Driving into Lone Pine at night was not the plan. We'd gotten a late start out of Las Vegas because we couldn't pick Kevin up until 1:30 or 2pm or something unuseful like that, and then Sandy needed a half hour or so to demonstrate that not all Americans care about customer service.
The late start seemed OK at first, but as we watched the sun set in Death Valley I remembered oh yeah I can't really see for shit at night can I. And yes, 45 minutes later I was hunched squinting over the wheel like an 92-year-old. Just as we got into Lone Pine I started seeing something off to the side that didn't make any visual sense. It looked like some gargantuan formation was towering over the farms and pastures on the northern side of the road like a nightmare tsunami. The thing was so big, and my vision so useless, that the overwhelming feeling was a sort of primal fear.
Turns out it was just the Inyo Mountains and the Sierra Nevada. They just kind of loom.