I remember being impressed by Texas Canyon when I was 26 and leaving Colorado Springs for a job at The Arizona Daily Star.
Back then I was piloting a 1973 Datsun pickup that contained my entire life, including a motley mutt name of Jojo who followed me everywhere like a debt collector.
This time around I was 55 and herding a 2005 Subaru Forester full of bike crap, camping gear and journalism tools, and the only dog in the hunt was me.
But it’s still an impressive sight. Looks like God had a few rocks left over and decided to store them here.
Mad Blog Media 