With a name like Death Valley, what could go wrong?
I love the desert. It calms me.
My husband planned a surprise weekend away to Death Valley for my birthday. Into the vast emptiness. Into the suffocating heat. With an infant. Because that’s the kind of geniuses we are.
From the very beginning, it felt as if the trip was cursed. Erratic traffic almost caused a handful of accidents before we left the city limits. The gas pump at the station wouldn’t work. And worse yet, the Popeyes drive-thru ran out of biscuits! If that’s not a sign the world is ending, I don’t know what is.
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