Nick's Tardy Recap: J Tree through LA

Nick: My phone number is 317-694-5766 and my email address is nickison1@me.com. You may consider this the complaint hotline for any readers that might like to express their displeasure at the very delayed post as it was, in fact, my turn for quite some time. Now down to business:
When it was finally time to say goodbye to Joshua Tree (which was sad, because Joshua Tree was probably one of my favorite segments/locations of the whole trip) we realized that it was Friday which meant that we would be able to attend the horse races that had been rained out the previous week. With free admission, two bets and one dollar beers, this was truly cause for excitement.
We parked Lucy in a large largely deserted lot then headed in to figure out the ins and outs of a sport neither of us had participated in to any degree. Horse racing, it seems, is more complicated than it might initially appear. In addition to voting on the horse you think will win a given race, you can bet on a whole myriad of combinations including choosing the top three positions which can in turn be spread over the span of several consecutive races. All the combinations had bizarre names, the horses had bizarre names, and the machines used for betting and printing tickets seemed a bit confusing. Perhaps Coors Lite would be illuminating... Indeed it was. (thanks beer, you've done it again.)
After a few rounds of that great pilsner taste, we made all our bets then headed out to the tracks. The first of several interesting encounters that afternoon came in the form of an aging hipster guy that claimed to know quite a bit about the horses. He was friendly, talkative, and was more than happy to show us around the park. We consented. The next was a young Hispanic gentleman named Gabriel who offered us a fantastic combo deal on a haircut and medical marijuana. Weird. While we made friends, our horses sucked wind. We both came close to winning a couple times, but our steads just didn't have the juice to finish as strong as they'd started. No matter, Brian spotted a horse shoe in the bushes, and seeing as we were headed to Vegas in a few days, we decided it would serve as the perfect lucky companion. Not wanting to get thrown out before the final race was run, we continued conversing and imbibing.
At some point, and old lady walked up and, having spotted the horseshoe herself, mentioned something about us possibly retreaving it for her. Guess what old lady, you're out of luck, Brian and I believe in equality. You can hop the fence and dive through the shrubs with me, and I'll race your old bones for it fair and square, but this is America, and we're not down with treating the elderly different just because they're elderly. Well, the final race was finally upon us. Despite all odds, (literally, the odds were like 40-1) my horse pulled it out and won us 60 bucks, which made that Friday the first day in a long long time when either of us made more money than we spent in one 24 hour period. As soon as that gallant mare crossed the line, I made an equally desperate rush over the fence and into the bush to retrieve our prize. To our disappointment, the old lady opted out of vying for the coveted charm.
Shoe in hand, we headed out to meet Marie, an aquaintance of Brian's from back in Bainbridge. We hung at her place for a while, then headed out to a local bar to shoot some pool and chat. It's been some time now, and my memory isn't so sharp, but I seem to remember the walls being covered in photos? Perhaps Brian will have a better recollection of the establishment. In the morning, we got up early, purchased one too many ice cream sandwiches, then headed off to Palm Desert where we would relax with Max and his family before heading into Vegas. If only we could have known what horrors awaited us there...