The campground was just around the bend from Atlatl Rock, where Native Americans carved symbols into the soft stone (apparently, the warning sign wasn’t posted hundreds of years ago). An atlatl is the device that gives extra velocity to weapons like darts and spears; presumably, the early travelers thought the rock would project their ideas far and wide.
Further around the bend was a delicate natural arch that has withstood the elements for ages. By 8 a.m., I could barely stand the sun’s heat. If I had to guess, it was the main reason for the name of the state park. That, or the flame-red rock … or the bite-burning fire ants … or the Africanized honey bees – yeah, the ones that can swarm like a wildfire and sting you to death.
On my way to meet TJ, I only made one pit stop to fuel up and check out the scene in Temecula for potential future travels. I managed to arrive in San Diego as scheduled, avoiding all the temptations along the way: dropping my remaining cash at the Las Vegas slots, joining up with one of the many foreign families touring the West in rented RVs, settling down as a camp host with Duck from Indiana, or adopting the wildlife I glimpsed: antelopes, foxes, jackrabbits, or prairie dogs – even the 8-foot one in Kansas.
In some ways, my journey flew by, but considering what lay at my destination, it sometimes seemed to drag out longer than it should have. Maybe it’s because I missed that exit back in Missouri.
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