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Baker and eggs in Death Valley

The materials are an egg and the sun. The laboratory is the roof of the Fiesta.

Or more truthfully, the 'Gateway to Death Valley' – baking Baker, a small town whose sole reason for existence is the world’s tallest thermometer.

Named, with somewhat Freudian wit, Big Boy, the 14-storey high monolith registers the Fahrenheit temperature spelled out with light globes.

Several of which seem to be blown when we turn up in the Ford Fiestas. But we’re not volunteering to climb up there and attend to them in what Big Boy says is 108F, but which the Fiesta’s more modern ambient gauge reads as 118. And we’ve got an important scientific experiment to undertake. The materials are an egg and the sun. The laboratory is the roof of the Fiesta.

We crack the shell, carefully pour the yolk and white on the hot metal. And wait. It shimmers, it starts to coagulate... we’re hopeful. But no, it doesn’t cook. Perhaps with more than 30 minutes up our sleeve, it might have a chance. But there’s a limit to the amount of time we want to stand in a truckstop watching an egg dry on a car roof. Even in the name of science.

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