friends who left Fort Collins, Colorado last summer for Las Cruces, New Mexico.
Everyone he knew thought he was crazy: who would leave the Rocky Mountains, the
brewfests and the biking for a border town in the desert? I thought the move
was risky but brave; nothing good ever comes without a bit
of risk right? Little did I know that I would instantly feel a special kind of
affinity for this place, the southwest, and I’d venture to say that Josh didn’t
expect this either.
|This is Josh, a damn good fiction writer at NMSU.|
“single day’s journey of the dead man,” with no gas, no signs of civilization,
and no warning that this area was once the most feared and deadly to pioneers,
and still meant trouble if you weren’t paying attention today. Needless to say,
I was humbled in my air-conditioned car as I thought about trekking this route
by foot beneath the unforgiving high sun.
the border crossing, dogs, and endless checkpoints, but we walked right into
Mexico without any hullaboo.
|At the border.|
We spent the whole day walking around in circles in the marketplace. There was
so much to take in!