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It wasn't really a shortcut. Julie could have taken more direct routes home, by I-15 or along at least two heavily traveled numbered highways. But where was the fun in that? This narrow, winding two lane didn't even have a line painted down the middle most of the way, and it must have been laid out by following a drunken cow through the hills and dry washes, cause it sure didn't know anything about the shortest distance between two points being a straight line. It did have one thing going for it though, and that would be the desolate desert scenery. Oh, and it led to Death Valley and then the scenic backside of the Sierra Nevada Mountains on her way back home, and Julie never tired of that part of her trip. And she rarely saw another car when she followed this road, so she savored the solitude after the tedium of five days of sales calls.

Julie didn't take this route in the summer, because passing through places named Furnace Creek made no sense in the heat, but in February there was a slight chill to the air, and on this day it was even raining. Pahrump always made her laugh. It was the first town she passed through after Vegas. In Pahrump, lined up just at the county line, was a row of legal brothels. Imagine naming a town that sounded like two people fucking away on an old bed set too close to the wall. Passing through the funky little town, she checked her fuel gauge, because she was heading into some lonely country. She went north on the highway, and after a few miles turned left on the barely paved narrow lane. The small sign on the shoulder warned, "No Services Next 52 ...

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