We arrived in El Paso a little after rush hour. The freeway congestion has not yet fully cleared. I watch a truck, then a van, then a compact car drive off the free way, down a gravel embankment, and onto a service road paralleling the freeway. A car already on the road honks as one of the traffic defectors cuts him off. This is what we've been trying to avoid.
My driver was resolute, we would not take the 10. At least, we would not take the 10 until we reached El Paso. It's pretty unavoidable at that point. But, until El Paso, we would stay on small isolated roads where our view would be of mountains and grasslands, rather than the next car's bumper. So I plotted a course hugging the Mexico border.
There is something about old ghost towns that attracts oddities. Last year, we stayed overnight in Bisbee, Arizona—an old mining town that was resurrected by a group of artists. Today, we took a pit stop at a neighboring town where all that is left is one street, Erie Street.
All we wanted was a view. And a place to cook. We had intended to make it out to some hot springs in Truth or Consequences, but after wandering through the Biosphere 2 and shopping for supplies for the night, we looked at the sun and were determined not to have another night like the Great Kofa Compromise.
Cults, pseudoscience, and an oil fortune meet in the Arizona desert of Oracle, outside Tucson, with Biosphere 2—a money pit turned research facility.
Leaving the Superstition Mountains, we made a not-so-bee-line for Tucson, Arizona. In an effort to avoid tiresome highways, we happened across Casa Grande Ruins National Monument. This collection of ancient structures is remarkable for the size of the titular, free standing "Great House."
The morning broke with fire in the sky. This is certainly one of the upsides of nomadic life. If I spend too much time indoors, I gradually approach a nocturnal sleeping schedule. On the road, we often rise in anticipation of the sun.
Now for some more camping but of the free variety. We are headed back to Arizona and the Kofa Wilderness Refuge for some dry camping and some hot cooking. I'm picking up steaks to cook in the wild.
"What brings you to the Las Vegas Hard Rock Hotel?" Asked the man behind the counter. We looked at each other and sigh, "Showers."
Finally, my new lens has come in handy to photograph the rarest fish found in the wild. The Devils Hole Pupfish only lives in a subterranean cave isolated in the Nevada desert. Technically, this site is an annex of Death Valley National Park but it is quite a distance from the main National Park. Think of it like Hawaii, relatively small and distant from the main 48, but a treasure unto itself.