29 Palms and No Fingers
I’m in Lake Las Vegas for my first night of our Cinco de Mayo ride from San Diego to Utah. Given my love for the topography of Utah, it has always struck me that the universe wants me to pay a handsome price for getting to and from there. When I lived in New York, that involved a four hour flight back-and-forth. Now that I live in San Diego that price has to do with…

