Damn it, where was my wake-up call? The front desk out here is worthless. If it weren’t for the view, I’d check us out. I know this was rustic and cheap, but the website said nothing of the dysfunctional generator, broken windows, and half a door. Oh well, I try to remind myself that the pioneers didn’t have blogs to whine about trying to fix a broken wheel in the rain one hundred sixty years ago while marauding hordes of bandits circled the wagon trains stealing their animals. After collecting up some dead grass, starting a fire, and making breakfast, I was off for a day of adventure.

But first, I’ll have to find my way out of here. Don’t go squawking on about how a GPS would come in handy right about now; I have a built-in GPS called “sense of direction,” and I’ll do fine – like I always do. Heck, I even have fresh tire tracks to follow; how difficult can this be? It’s not like I’m the first guy out on the Great Plains breaking trail on my way to discover gold in California. I’m just looking to find a little fun today out here in the resort city called Bisbee. By the way, how many others hate these signs that tell us to “Watch for Animals”? I watch and see nothing. I drive through anywhere else where there are no signs and knock off rabbits, javelinas, and other assorted four-legged creatures; I flatten snakes and lizards, even had birds crash into my windshield, but I swear if the sign says “Wildlife Ahead,” I’ll never see it.

The travel guide in our room said we’d find a spa out here with aroma and massage therapy. Haha, funny guys, what am I supposed to do, smell the forest and roll around on the rocks? If I don’t find something fun to do soon, this day is gonna be one giant waste of time that I could have better spent watching the rerun of season 3, episode 6 of Dancing With The Stars, which I swear was one of the greatest moments in television history I have ever witnessed, next to Richard Hatch winning season 1 of Survivor.

I can only assume I took a wrong turn down the wrong dirt road that took me into that forest. Back out on the highway, endless vistas and desert stretch as far as the eye can see, which probably also correlates to the curvature of the earth and how far the horizon is from our vision before it dips below the curve, but it seems far away anyhow. The scattered fluffy clouds interrupt sunlight’s journey to earth, casting shadows where sunlight would otherwise burn brightly, like off on the mountains in front of me. This suits me fine as months from now, I’ll beg for respite from the orb of scorchidness.

Unable to find thrills, a beach, the spa, or any other meaningful entertainment besides all this looking at the desert, I pulled into a now-defunct drive-in theater. It is so closed that nothing, not an inkling of detail, remains to identify this patch of land as a former drive-in theater. Only this panoramic screen stands as a testament to this old 1950s icon. I pulled up to watch a showing of the 1988 B-movie classic “A Sunset to Die For” starring Sage Peterson, Star McBride, and Deedra Bright Sun in her first role onscreen.

Then, just before the sun finally set on this day, up in the sky, curls of fluff atop the clouds began to crest and roll for the celestial surfers who must have been just out of sight waiting for the sun to finish its disappearance so they could come out and catch a wave. So that was my day, Caroline spent hers back in Bisbee playing fiber artist for another day – yawn.