Ivanpah Lake sparkled like the basepaths of a freshly tended infield. Their BMW X5 floated across the dry lakebed and sliced through an unattended gate at the California inspection station.
They raced past Baker and its foul collection of disgusting bathrooms, made a stop for gas on Lenwood Road in Barstow, curled down the Cajon Pass and cut across the 210 into Los Angeles.
Two hundred miles behind them, traffic crawled in both directions across Ivanpah Lake.
