As we took a last look at the San Diego Zoo, I set the navigation on my phone to the pin we’d dropped in the morning. Walking out toward the sea of parked cars, my wife pointed out that my neck was now a vivid shade of scarlet. My hat and UPF 50 shirt had done their job—but my unprotected neck now resembled one of the tropical birds we’d admired earlier. Note to self: finally order that UPF 50 balaclava that’s been sitting in my Amazon cart.
A few more minutes of strolling and my phone cheerfully announced, “You have arrived.” Our hearts sank as we began wading through the ocean of cars, pressing the panic button like desperate treasure hunters. We weren’t alone—everywhere we looked, other weary zoo-goers were hunting for their rides. Every time a horn beeped, hope soared… until we realized it belonged to someone else’s find.
Twenty minutes later, our prize appeared. Unfortunately, the rental agency’s purchasing manager clearly had a streak of cruelty: a black car with a black interior baking in the California sun. Opening the doors unleashed a wave of heat like opening an oven. I started the car, cranked the A/C to full, and suggested waiting for it to cool down. I was overruled. Now we had two hot, tired, cranky people wedged into a rolling sauna. Tempers flared briefly before the cool air brought peace and highway miles smoothed the mood.
The drive to Palm Springs was beautiful—sun-washed desert and mercifully light traffic. Pulling into The Wesley, our small mid-century modern hotel, my wife was sure it was on HGTV. I parked while my wife read the check-in instructions aloud. The gate code came with a warning: it locks automatically after three minutes. I didn’t pay much attention at the time—something I would later regret.
We hauled our bags to the room, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. It didn’t take long before I decided the pool was calling my name. I changed, told my wife I’d see her there, and stepped outside—straight into the furnace-like desert air. As I headed toward the water, I noticed a young Asian woman hurrying back into her room. Odd, but I didn’t think much of it.
My wife joined me, and we claimed a pair of chairs before slipping into the pool. Moments later, two things happened: a friendly couple from L.A. joined us in the water, and the woman from earlier reappeared—this time with two friends. They set up at a nearby table and began an hours-long selfie marathon in their bikinis.
The L.A. couple and I hit it off quickly, covering topics from real estate to traffic, weather, and of course, bourbon. The selfie trio, meanwhile, never once put down their phones. Lucky for them, it was dark by now—no chance of them seeing their own reflections and wasting away. (If that confuses you, consult your Greek mythology under “Narcissus.”)
Eventually, it was time to call it a night. We toweled off, headed back to our room, and wrapped up day two of our California (mis)adventure. Definitely an improvement over day one—but still not without its quirks. What challenges await our heroes on day three? We turn up the heat.
Lost in the Zoo, Found in the Desert: Day Two of Our California RV Adventure
Sorry for the delay. Work, that dreaded four-letter word, intervened. When we left our heroes, they had just finished a tour of the zoo, unaware of the parking lot tour…
