It's an inhospitable 48 degrees. The long straight roads are so hot you can't see them clearly.
Scattered across the arid, desolate landscape, a cluster of big bright RVs suddenly emerge on the horizon.
We've arrived at the Californian border with Mexico, the site of an unusual migration.
Much has been said in the past 18 months about Mexicans wanting to cross into the US. But in a vast car park, we meet streams of Americans trying to go the other way and into a town called Los Algadones.
It's Independence Day, a public holiday, but these Americans have spent their break travelling across states, some taking two flights to get here.
They want what Washington can't seem to give them - affordable dental care.
As we make the short walk to the other side of the borders, promoters wearing scrubs greet us with wide smiles and loud offers.
One shouts: "Welcome to Molar City," before listing what discounts we can enjoy.
A military veteran dressed in fatigues approaches them and says with a look of relief and exhaustion: "I really need my teeth fixed."
He's quickly led off - today he could save thousands of dollars.
There are lots of elderly people, but families too. The whole street is lined with dentists, waiting rooms are full.
This is a city that was built on caring for teeth. It's flourished because its wealthy neighbour puts a high price on the cost of a healthy smile.
It is a potent and humiliating illustration of America's divides.
The rich spend more than £1bn a year getting whiter teeth. Others wait in long lines at charity clinics and hospital emergency rooms, to treat their neglected teeth.
Some, unable to afford expensive root canals and crowns, have them pulled instead.
According to the National Association of Dental Plans, 114 million Americans don't have dental insurance, including 46.3 million people aged 65 or older.
Even among those that do, some often can't afford the work. In the winter months, up to 6,000 people come to Molar City each day. They're such a regular sight here, the locals call them "snowbirds".
They travel from Alaska, Canada and all over the US. Many stay at a nearby casino.
Remarkably, for some, it is cheaper to take a flight, hire a car and even have a flutter than go to a dentist in America.
I meet one man who's driven five hours to have all of his teeth replaced.
"In the US it will cost me $16,000," he tells me, adding: "Here it's $2,000."
Universal dental care and cutting costs isn't a priority of either political party in America, where dentistry was long seen as a luxury.
President Donald Trump is focused on repealing and replacing so-called Obamacare, but the current House of Representatives bill doesn't make any commitment to boost dental insurance.
The Dental Association has warned changes to the Medicaid social health care programme could mean poorer families and children lose what little coverage they do have.
We meet Dana Kennedy, who is in a lot of pain. She tells me she's on the minimum wage and has no insurance. She bravely lets us film her having a tooth removed.
Afterwards, despite the discomfort, she quickly sits up with a wide grin.
"The care here is wonderful…this would have cost me $200 dollars back home. I'll pay half of that here," she says.
She says she's saved thousands of dollars over two years of coming here.
Like most of those we met she voted for Mr Trump, undeterred by his warning about Mexican rapists and drug dealers. Some of the clinics hire deportees.
Dr Celsa Salmeron says 98% of her patients come from America. So too do her materials, she says.
America's broken dental system has created Molar City and there seems to be no rush to tackle the root of the problem.
Crown and implant: Mexico: $190; US: $600
Implants: Mexico: $1,100; US: $4,000