I often find myself on the road, which is a good thing, since I write a travel feature each week.  But sometimes I have no idea where to go, or where I might end up. And, that is sometimes, the beauty of traveling.

Go west young man, Horace Greeley told Mark Twain, and though I ain’t that young anymore, I just head out in any direction to see what there is to see. And there’s a lot to see.

Recently, while driving Route 66 – yes, I like America’s road – I came across a road closure sign just a few miles east of Amboy. I don’t like road closures. It seems there’s a reason why that road is closed and I want to know why. Is it closed due to a government secret? Perhaps an alien ship crashed in the desert that the government is hiding it from the citizens.

Think that’s far-fetched? Think Roswell, New Mexico, my friends.

So, anyway, I came across that road closure sign but when I read the fine print – it clearly said the road was closed to through traffic east of Cadiz Road. Well, that made all the difference in the world to me. Perhaps, I didn’t want to be a through trafficker past this Cadiz Road. That meant I could drive down the road to Cadiz and turn around, if I wanted to.

Always study the fine print

What was a Cadiz anyway? Wasn’t sure but knew I had to go there. Turned out the true closed road was exactly at Cadiz Road. That’s where the government actually was stopping any traffic from traveling further east on Route 66.

What were they hiding? After a bit of research, it turned out there were no alien crash sites but simply the road was closed due to multiple bridges being washed out after some pretty heavy desert flooding in 2014. This section of highway has been closed for many years – many, many years. How long does it take to rebuild a few bridges? Apparently six, and counting…

Hmmm, I don’t believe in conspiracy theories, but I do believe in the occasional conspiracy. Maybe, just maybe, the Mojave Desert has a new Area 51.

I’ll check that out soon – I’m a professional explorer, so don’t try that on your own.

Back to Cadiz.

Turns out I had been to Cadiz. I had just forgotten momentarily, since it had been a bit over twenty years ago.

It happens to be one of the oldest constantly inhabited cities in Western Europe. This city, located on a piece of land jutting out into the Mediterranean Sea in Spain, is thought to have been founded in 1104 B.C. – oops, wait a moment. Wrong Cadiz.

Our Cadiz, the California one, was founded in 1883, by Lewis Kingman. He worked as a railroad engineer for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. This was the third railroad station located along this stretch of the Mojave Desert. Each station was alphabetical to its neighbor – Amboy, Bagdad, Cadiz, and so on. 

Driving into the area, the ruins of the Road Runners Retreat lines the south side of Route 66. This retreat was actually in what is now the ghost town of Chambliss – originally known as Chambliss Station. A water tower location for the railroads.

However, this resort had plenty of life in the 1960’s, when Roy and Helen Tull built the comfortable and welcome resort for travelers along Route 66. But when Highway 40 was built miles away to the north, the business lost its customers and closed its doors in the mid 1970’s. The café struggled until the early 1990’s.The buildings are boarded up. There’s no sign of life except for lizards, snakes, and possibly extraterrestrial life forms. I believe I saw a shadow run between two of the buildings. Can’t be certain, but the hair on my neck stood up. 

Not much left out there in Chambliss

Chambliss, as with the resort, faded to obscurity with that darn highway that made traveling so much faster, but also so mundane. In fact, records indicate that in 2005, the population of Chambliss was six residents and a dog. I didn’t see a dog on my visit.

The sign for the resort is still standing tall. One can imagine the neon lights flickering in the clear night, beckoning road weary travelers for a bit of a respite from the dry desert.

What's left of the Road Runner's Retreat 

Of course, there is the Bolo Station Bar/Grill and RV Park. It looked like life was percolating there. Well-kept buildings, tall trees, bushy bushes and plenty of space for RVs.  I drove in, asked a gentleman if I was in Cadiz, he pointed down the road and said three more miles.

Well, those three miles turned out to be quite interesting. As I thought I had been given erroneous information, suddenly there was the sign for Cadiz. There was no town. But, I did run across a smashed up vehicle on the east side of the asphalt. It looked like something out of Mad Max. Really cool.

Desolate and Mad Max worthy

Soon the asphalt ended and I was on dirt. I followed that dirt road to what appeared to be a large agricultural center. It should be noted that Cadiz actually sits atop one of the largest aquifers in Southern California. So much so, that it is listed as being able to supply water to Southern California for 400,000 residents with plenty to spare. The area is known for being in the forefront of water conservation and is earnestly working with the State of California, as well as the federal government for this very purpose.

As I drove into what was the labelled Cadiz Farm, I noticed what appeared to be a Christmas tree forest. But no, as I got closer and closer, the realization hit me that it was a gazillion acres of marijuana. 

Ah, a forest of green - hmmm, not Christmas trees though

I got out and walked through the fields for about ten minutes, or perhaps a couple of hours, or a week. Wasn’t sure, but when I got back to my truck, Jimi Hendrix was standing there playing his Fender Stratocaster. We laughed, exchanged musical lyrics and far too soon, he faded away – but just before he was gone, he smiled as only Jimi could and stated, “Cadiz you later.”

Cadiz you later, Jimi

Turns out the farm actually produces an array of other farm produce – it’s a huge agricultural business.

Is Cadiz worth visiting? I enjoyed my time there, but with all traveling, there are hits and misses. I’ll take the hit on this, and perhaps you can take the miss. But then again - - -

In full transparency - this article was first published by the Daily Press Newspaper - Beyer's Byways

Conspiracy Theory

It seems the month of November, especially this year, is the time of conspiracy reminders. With the 50th anniversary of President John F. Kennedy's assassination, the 150th anniversary of the Gettysburg Address (not to mention all the rumors surrounding President Lincoln's assassination), and the recent film regarding the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster and the 'stonewalling' surrounding the investigation into the cause of the accident, J and L decided to add to the phenomena of conspiracy theories. Not that we have anything even close to these monumental mysteries, but what the heck, these are the things which make America such a great, and interesting country.




During the course of research for an upcoming novel, Operation Scorpion, J decided to take a drive out to the Yucca Mountain Nuclear Depository. You know, the one located in southern Nevada which has supposedly had over ten billion American tax dollars spent constructing the facility, only to have it defunded and 'abandoned' in 2010.The remote location in the Amargosa Desert is home to the Nellis Air Force Range, and, coincidentally, also the location of the ever-fascinating Area 51. Yes, the same Area 51 around which stories swirl regarding little green men being dissected after crash-landing in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947.

Can it get any better than this?

J had written to the Nuclear Waste Department in Eureka County, Nevada, requesting a tour of the facility which had been under planning and construction for decades. It is a fascinating engineering project, designed to provide a space for the safe disposal of all nuclear wastes produced in the United States for thousands of years (please refer to the sites listed at the end of this blog for confirmation and further detail).

Our traveling companion during this adventure was the frequent fellow-explorer, Paul Bakas, good friend and photographer.

There had been no response from the Waste Department, so the adventure was afoot as we try to find our own way in, as did some of the characters in Operation Scorpion (due for release in 2015).

A quick three and a half hour drive north to Baker, then northwest to the town of Amargosa Valley at the junction of Highways 373 and 95, and we thought we'd be near the entrance, if not the footprint of the nuclear site.

We were wrong.

We stopped and asked for directions at three different establishments, including the Chamber of Commerce, but no one could give us directions to the facility. Rather strange, we thought, considering the scope of such a repository for nuclear waste, including a purported five mile long tunnel built into the Yucca Mountains before being defunded.

Hard to hide such a thing. Or was it?

Off to the hinterlands, four-wheeling in the trusty Toyota FJ for hours upon hours of searching, but to no avail.There were plenty of hard-packed dirt roads, large enough for construction vehicles, and a few signs for YMP (Yucca Mountain Project) personnel, but no discernible entrance to the increasingly mysterious facility.

Dusk was smothering the mountains as we decided to call it a day. We were dirty, tired, frustrated, and hungry. So we drove back to Beatty where we had decided to set up camp for the evening.

This is when it really got strange.

Sitting down to a nice dinner at the Sourdough Saloon with a cold beer, J's cell phone pinged and up popped an email from the Nuclear Waste Advisor (who shall remain anonymous) stating that there were no tours of the area because the program was shut down. The site had not been licensed to receive nuclear waste and all there was to see was an exploratory tunnel, but nowhere to store material.

Really?

I shared the email with my fellow explorer, Paul, and his eyebrows curled a bit upwards. "Rather odd to receive such an email right after we spent the entire day driving around the back end of the thing, wouldn't you say? Almost as though someone knew we had been there snooping around."

"Since I sent the first email weeks ago asking for a tour and explaining my reasons. Yes, I would agree with you."

Paul nodded. Not really much of one to dwell on conspiracies, his reply was to change the subject.  "And I agree this food is tasty and the beer cold."

Couldn't argue with that logic, but there was certainly a growing sense of confusion and yes, perhaps a little paranoia floating around in my cranium.

That confusion turned to something more quizzical as we left Beatty the following morning and headed into the very small town of Death Valley Junction for breakfast. We discussed our empty-handed mission of the previous day with a friendly waitress, who shall also remain nameless -- the reader will understand why. I mentioned our search and the contents of the email I received from the waste department.

"That's funny," the waitress observed. "My husband worked there and we have drivers coming through who say they already are delivering low level radioactive material out there. They have armed guards surrounding the entry gates to Mercury. Strange message to write saying it's not open when we all know it is."

And this is how governmental conspiracies begin!

Mercury - the Closed City

Yucca Mountain Project

Beatty

Amargosa Valley