I need to stop taking drugs every time I get bored, I said. Did that actually just happen? We were speeding away from The Crater of Mad Mike, looking for the next place to devour any kind of alcohol and substance absorbing foods.

Hey, isn’t that CA Man? I asked, pointing to a man walking on the road a few miles from the RV camp. Did he just wander the desert at all times of the day? How on earth was he still barefoot? After a half-hearted debate, we decided not to stop.

We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold. That is where CA man lives. Or, at least, that's what we would remember. We'd been driving for hours. Our last stop was somewhere just east of the Neva...