Pearsonville

Last weekend Rocket Boy had to go to Colorado to deal with some problems involving our property out there, and the boos and I were left to our own devices. I hadn't had to take care of them for a weekend alone since, gosh, last summer I guess. So I was nervous about it. And my nervousness turned out to be justified. It's hard for me to take care of those two little guys for long stretches of time. In Ridgecrest. Where there's nothing to do and we know pretty much no one, even after two years. But somehow, barely, we survived.

On Sunday, we went for a long stroller walk in the morning -- got the newspaper, had a snack at the Starbucks inside Albertson's, walked over to Subway to get a foot-long sandwich to share, and then went home the long way. After lunch it was time for a nap drive, so we drove to Olancha, turned around, and drove back. On the way back we drove past Pearsonville, where there is a park.

Pearsonville is a tiny community on Highway 395 about 20 miles north of Ridgecrest. Wikipedia says it has 27 residents. It has a Shell gas station with a Subway attached to it. Pearsonville is called "the hubcap capital of the world" and has a huge wrecking yard, but I guess you can't visit that without permission.

Pearsonville also has an old park. Its equipment is aging, but the park is well kept up. Rocket Boy found it on a map and then explored it with the twins. Now, almost every time we drive north on 395 we at least consider stopping at the park. The boos love it and so does Rocket Boy.

I don't love it, actually. I think it's kind of creepy.

Near the entrance to the park is a 30-foot tall statue of a lady. It appears that she used to hold some sort of sign in her hand. I don't like the lady, I think she's creepy. But the boos like her. "See that teeny-tiny park, see that lady!" they shouted from the back seat. So we went to see that lady.

I should note that these photos were not taken last weekend (Rocket Boy had the camera with him in Boulder). They were taken a few weeks before. But it's always the same.

Some of the equipment in the park just looks like stuff I used to play on.

Other equipment is a little weirder.

What you can't tell from these photos is that Highway 395 runs very close to the park. Actually, just outside the park is Pearson Road, and then just beyond Pearson Road is the highway. So you're not really isolated when you're here, even though there is NEVER ANYONE ELSE THERE. I just constantly have the feeling of being watched. I also have the feeling that a murderer is going to appear out of nowhere and either steal the boos or slice them open. Or that the giant penguin cage thing is going to come alive and start walking towards me. These feelings are naturally lessened when Rocket Boy is with us, but do not entirely disappear.

When he's NOT with us, as he was not last weekend, I spend the whole time in the park looking over my shoulder and saying it's time to go home.

On the other side of the park is a big rock with a memorial plaque on it, to Andy Pearson, co-founder of Pearsonville. Someone (presumably his surviving wife) keeps the front of the rock well-supplied with fake flowers.

I hope this is not actually a gravesite, but I don't know. Rocket Boy and the boos like to climb on this rock, but I don't.

I don't know why this place gives me the willies, but it does. From now on, unless Rocket Boy is with us, I think the boos and I will stick to parks inside Ridgecrest city limits.