Be mindful when collecting rocks for the fire pit around here...
In spite of Tim's uncanny sense for the Mexican border and superconscious determination to point the car that way, we managed to find ourselves in Tombstone, AZ (tourist town in perpetual reenactment mode...that I was surprisingly into!) and eventually to a campground in New Mexico.
I hadn't expected to see his old tent, the one I had been borrowing for the first leg of the trip, again so soon. It had been shipped back when I finally bought a tent of my own. Admittedly, since the new tent, I realized I'd been swearing a lot less during the whole camping process. I can't tell if I miss it or not.
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