In America, things are this big ...

When Coolio rapped all those years ago about walking through the valley and the shadow of death was he talking about Death Valley? Perhaps. Death Valley is often the hottest place in North America, with temperatures of more than 50C not uncommon during summer. Signs on the side of the roads regularly remind drivers to turn their air conditioners off and to refill their radiators with water. Alas, it was winter but the wearing of shorts was the preferred option as we drove to the valley early on Saturday morning to see what the fuss was about. That was after we cleaned up some Starbucks I managed to spill all over the inside of the car. Above to your left is me (in my coffee stained shorts) some 200 metres below sea level and what I'm standing in is not snow, but rather a big salt bed that stretched for as far as the eye could see.

It was a case of another day in another national park on Sunday when we drove from Fresno to Yosemite. It was Cousin Slugg's birthday and you would have thought the guy would have received something warm to wear on what was easily the coldest day on tour. He wore jeans and a t-shirt. Unlike the day before, there were no shorts as we saw snow and yours truly felt like his fingers were about to snap from the intense chill. My folded arms aren't a sign of being aloof or standoffish. It was seriously cold.

We saw some big trees and the waterfall. I also saw five months disappear right before my very eyes. Tomorrow would be my last day before my trip back to reality. We headed back to San Fran like many others were doing on Thanksgiving weekend and decided to ring in Cousin Slugg's 26th birthday with a few beers at that same Irish pub we were at eight days earlier. Then we retreated back to the hotel with a pizza. Luckily, my favourite movie (of the moment), Garden State, was on.

So, it was almost over. Earlier in the evening, we returned the car to Avis and had our picture taken with our car and map. It was no lie. For the most part, we traversed California using a map printed on the back of a postcard for about five per cent of what a real map would have cost. And I had so much to carry back home anyway. It's an awesome story, two Aussie lads making their way across a foreign land with a cheap postcard and the stereo their only companions.