Monday Morning, after two days in Bend, it was time to move on.  On Thursday, I’ll be in Salt Lake City. Before I get there, it’s time to visit the first National Park of the trip.

I’ve been to Crater Lake before, on my previous epic road trip. This time, rather than visit on my way home, I’m visiting on my way “there.” Somewhere between Bend and the park, my trip odometer rolls over for the first time—1000 miles down. The car and I get along well. Like a pair of shoes that are just broken in. The weather is a bit cooler now, so rather than suffering the heat, the sun comfortably warms the face.

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The lake is still stunningly blue under bright sunny skies. As I make my way along the rim, I see the high point of the park. Mt. Scott towers over me. I climb. At the top, I’m winded, a bit woozy, but triumphant. I blame the altitude; it won’t be the last time I make that particular excuse on this road trip. Eventually, I find myself a bit chilled and make my way back down to the rim road. My clockwise tour continues, until it is time to leave. At a state park with lower elevation, I set up my tent and sleep. It comes easily that night.

The next morning, I turn east. I’m well south of home, and before I stop for the day, I’ll be further south still—my destination is in Nevada today, and my friends are just two days from here.

Southern Oregon is very different than what I am used to seeing in the North. It is more isolated, more rugged, and more forgiving. The passes are higher, but so too are the “lowlands.” Everything here seems to be formed to deceive me. For 200 miles, the only humans I see are cowboys. At one point, I had to duck in behind their truck to ford a sea of cattle; the road was impassible to my Miata without them. Otherwise, I just drove miles of empty, but well maintained roads.

At some point, I followed a fast right turn and was met with a sign: “Welcome to Nevada.” The state changed, but nothing else did. Even the highway number stayed constant.

After so many days in the sun, I finally had to give up. It was in a lonely section of northeastern Nevada that I finally raised the roof on the little car. I had fought the sun for long enough, but it finally won. In solace, I turned up the air conditioning and drove the last 100 miles to Winnemucca in the shade.