We left Bisbee this morning after saying goodbye to a few of the local fixtures around camp. Along the fence line were two coyote carcasses, likely placed there to keep others from approaching the sheep pen. It was a jarring sight, but not surprising in this part of the country where ranchers have to protect their livestock. The desert can feel harsh at times, and reminders like that make it clear how thin the line is between wild predators and the animals people depend on.
This morning we stopped by Tombstone. It’s an old frontier town best known for the gunfight at the O.K. Corral in 1881, when Wyatt Earp, his brothers, and Doc Holliday faced off against the Clanton and McLaury gang in a shootout that left three men dead. These days it’s a full-on tourist destination, with reenactments, saloons, and plenty of old Western buildings to wander through. The town really leans into its Wild West past. Locals stroll around in cowboy hats and boots, and some even take part in the daily shootout shows.
We spent some time this morning exploring Yuma’s Historic Downtown. Once a key stop for riverboats and railroad travelers, the area still looks like an old Western town, with brick storefronts, sun-faded signs, and a few buildings that feel frozen in time. Our visit was short, but I managed to grab a few photos and take Bruno on a leisurely walk before we hit the road for the five-hour drive to Bisbee.
I took Bruno out for a long walk around the Silver Strand neighborhood, and we eventually made our way to the pier. There we came across a large group of sea lions. Bruno usually loves to bully animals, but this time he wisely kept his distance. He seemed to understand he was undersized for this crowd.
This morning, we set off on our coast-to-coast journey! Although this family photo would suggest that we’re all going, it’s just Bruno (the dog on the left) and me. Jean has to stay behind for work, and Benny, as much as I’d love to bring him, is getting older. I don’t think he could handle all the time on the road, not to mention the heat and humidity. The old guy has gotten very used to the cool weather in San Francisco.
Last weekend, I made my way to the California Delta. The rivers and streams were vibrant and the land looked so lush. It also appeared as though the marine life was thriving. In fact, this was my first time ever seeing a California river otter in the wild. Unfortunately, this otter had met a tragic end, likely sometime earlier that night. However, I’m sure its friends and family were still thriving.
Last year, I spent six weeks backpacking across China. I explored waterways both far in China’s interior and near its coastline. My journey enabled me to witness firsthand the impact these waterways played in the cultural, economic, and urban development of local communities. It also allowed me to drift from place to place, learning about the lives, customs, and values of the diverse people that call these locations their home.
Last March, on my 38th birthday, I was laid off from work.
I wish I felt bitter. I wish I was angry that I was let go, or sad that I was forced to leave. At least then my emotions would fit with how I imagined I should feel. Yet, I felt none of that. Rather, that morning, I witnessed a tremendous weight lifted from off my shoulders. For years, I had grown increasingly restless with my current circumstances. I attempted to distract myself or to focus my attention elsewhere, but to no avail. Suddenly, however, I found myself with an abundance of time and an excuse to do almost anything. I was eager to make the most out of this opportunity.
For my final post, I had hoped to share an amazing story about my last meal. Unfortunately, in my haste to make it to the airport, I had no time to enjoy it. Instead, I’ll share a picture of my favorite breakfast from this adventure: pork noodles, soup dumplings, and soy milk.
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