Ludlow, CA, is a far cry from its British namesake: Ludlow, the prettiest of English towns; half-timbered; with an old castle - nothing, but nothing, could be less like the god-forsaken couple of gas stations and crumpled buildings that greet one about forty five miles outside Barstow, on I-40. But one always ends up stopping at Ludlow (this has to do with gas, and distances between gas stations, and my refusal to buy gas in Needles, where it's always outrageously expensive.
(and yes, I'm back on the road, with a basket containing a Deplorable, aka Walter Gomez, in the back seat ...)
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