The air chills as we gain altitude cruising along a long straight stretch of the 127 heading North from Baker to Furnace Creek in Death Valley. The solitude of the road is a welcome change from the madness that races along the 15 to Las Vegas. The road stretches to the horizon and then disappears into the mountains splitting a basin, the green balls of creosote bush turning into a distant lattice of green pixels as the ground slopes up gently before giving way to rugged slopes of tan, brown, and chocolate mountains. A long band of cirrus clouds reaches up from the mountains their tips curled back like fingers beckoning me to come this way.