After lamenting the lack of interactions, this day was full of them. First up at the dunes overlook was a Brawley local who was scoping out the area for a slip and slide, as one does. I didn’t tell him about my opinions of his city but he was at least impressed with my choice of dinner location. 

 

As I was preparing to leave the Glamis store, a fellow cycle tourer turned up - heading westbound on the Southern Tier. Really nice guy from South Carolina with a drawly Southern accent. Swapped some words on roads passed and ahead as well as camping options. 

 

Into the afternoon I was flagging in the heat and stopped at a gas station, the only shop for miles around. As I sat outside, Misty came and sat near me and took out a cigarette from an enormous Tupperware box. Misty was accompanied by highway patrol and was clearly on familiar terms with law enforcement. And I presumed not because she was about to buy them lunch. The cop was friendly but a bit concerned about me being out there in the heat and told me to take care as they pulled away. At the same time an older guy who was emptying the bins came over for a chat - the usual where are you from, where are you heading. He then rather out of the blue asked me if ‘I knew Dorothy’. I was a bit taken aback and wondered for a second if he meant what I thought he meant. He then clarified  by explaining ‘it’s something you say to gay people’. I wasn’t sure how to take this so nodded politely as only a foreign bicycle tourer in a small town can. When he began offering me to stay in his friend’s RV at the trailer park over the road I made a hastened getaway.  

 

The final act was staying at Blythe’s evident social club, the B&B Bait Shop. I’d arranged with Warmshowers host Wayne to stay, although on arrival it turns out Wayne sold the shop seven years ago but the new owners continue the tradition of allowing cyclists to stay out back. I’d evidently turned up on the right day as not only was I welcomed into the collection of characters and handed a beer, but informed I’d also be fed. Despite the warm welcome, these were not necessarily people you’d want to get into a serious conversation with and there were a few comments which made me pretty uncomfortable. The arrival of the town Mayor did not seem to deter the drunkest man at the party climbing into his Jeep for the drive to wherever home was. Beats sitting alone in a tent, I think.