One day I walked up the highway to the turnoff for Bayhorse.
Four miles in to the ghost town.
Just a little bit further than I want to ride on the bicycle.
Nope, not taking a small house on wheels in there either.
I would take the Honda 90 in though but it has a dead battery.
So that’s not happening.
I asked the camp host about it. He told me they haven’t been there yet. He heard the road was bad (washboard) but supposedly the county was regrading it. It looks as such.
Just beyond that bridge was this nice log cabin home.
It looked like no one had been there for some time.
On my walk back along the highway was this scene of an accident.
Imagine the force of impact to sheer off these large posts
and crumple up that heavy gauge metal barrier.
I enjoy walking along highways like this.
Maybe in another life I was a hobo.