On a trip to Las Vegas, our return was met with an insane amount of traffic. By the time we got to Baker, Google Maps told us to take a detour and rerouted us around several accidents along interstate 15. We get off at Baker, took a left and headed down Kelbaker Road. An isolated stretch of highway, partially maintained over the years, that seem to just run on and on and on. I had no idea where we were, other than the satellite view of our map of course, nothing to see for miles, until we rounded a bend and there stood an oasis of palm trees and a tiled roof. Of course at this point, I had been on the road for the last four hours of traffic, so I had no intention whatsoever of stopping, but I did see a sign, Kelso Depot, so I made a mental note and kept driving.

A year later I'm driving from Palm Springs to Las Vegas for a weekend at the Cosmopolitan. Realizing the drive was going to be a long one, I take the more venturous route up Hwy 62 to Kelbaker Road, and suddenly my memory springs to life. Kelso Depot. I remember that spot and I anticipate revisiting this isolated location. I enter the Mojave National Preserve, and realize what our ancestors braved through to settle Southern California. This is isolated wilderness with no indication whatsoever of civilization to the north south east or west. Imagine coming across this in a buck wagon and an old pair of trousers. Not the BMW air conditioned comfort that I'm not used to now. A few hours later, we arrive at the Kelso Depot and it is beautifully maintained. A true oasis in the desert. There is absolutely nothing else here, other than this train stop.

The train station originally opened in 1905, then rebuilt in 1923, serving as a stop for steam locomotives moving people and mining materials to the Los Angeles area. Back in the day, mining was the lifeblood of Southern California, and the Mojave desert is littered with remnants of this. Boron, a small town 2 hours drive west of here, is home to 20 Mule Team Borax, a cleaner first mined and produced in 1891, and is still available on store shelves today. 45 minutes east is Nipton, a mining town long dead, that has been purchased and is planned as a marijuana Disneyland.

Kelso Depot is under the protection of the National Park Service, it is maintained immaculately as both museum and memory of a time long gone. The train tracks still exist, but I don't think the train has come down these tracks in decades. The depot serves more as I stop over for people needing to use the restroom, and as a curiosity spot for tourists and hobbyist researching old Southern California and its mining past. I step inside and I'm met by park ranger, Mark, who has a dusty, cool smile on this 112 degree day. I look around, and there's what's left of the old Kelso restaurant, now a coffee counter with a small menu of burgers, fries, tacos and chips. But no one seems to be manning the grill, so I step over to the tourist rack and purchase a Kelso Depot poster for nostalgia sake.

Back outside under the palm trees I take a look around, and notice a sign identifying the old location of the Kelso jail. I love the idea that this jail is stated as built to "confine drunks and other unruly individuals," namely me in a couple more hours,. The jail was built back in the mid-1940s but is long gone. I'm sure somebody will have a grand idea to use some reclaimed lumber to rebuild it to its original specifications. That will be cool to see. Maybe they can take the backside of the old post office across the street. This abandoned desolate little building is a reminder of how small we used to be. This stop had a post office, and I'm sure at some point a bustling a little town built around it. Now it's just a leftover abandoned little shack as the trains have stopped rolling and mines have stopped producing and everyone just takes the 15 from LA to Vegas.

Thank you to the National Park Service for preserving this memory.