To willingly traverse the Mojave Desert in the middle of July is either indicative of ultra-dedication to the hobby, or that one's brain cells have been over-exposed to the intense heat and sunlight. The hot-box detector at Balch once read out 122 degrees as my train exited enroute to Yermo. I miss the incredible scenery, but not the heat. I will enjoy the Cima Sub from the cool comfort of my desktop via the lens of this talented photographer, and leave the desert railroading to my many friends in Vegas. Great catch, Mike. I love the intensity of the blue sky.
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Tom, we all know it's a dry heat!
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