Great piece. Sounds like a semi-miserable, fully memorable trip. Reminded me of a trip I made with my parents when I was about six to Yosemite. The Sierra portion of the trip was great. But I recall dropping down into the San Joaquin Valley around Merced and then driving north to Sacramento on Hwy. 99 at mid-afternoon in July. Must've been around 110F. This was in the '60s in a car with two adults, three kids and no air conditioning. I remember the sound of the cicadas, the unrelenting swelter, sitting in a pool of sweat, my splitting headache, and then full delirium by the time we rolled into Sacramento with my dad finally relenting and checking us all into an air conditioned motel, after my mom saying something like, "Ben, we're all going to die if you don't pull over right now and find someplace cool that has ice." Good times.