Well, New Mexico it may be, but I figure out pretty quickly that this is not PIE TOWN. There is a sweetness to the air, a spirituality to the atmosphere, a quietude. Things are vast without being empty. I turn questioningly to the girl, who is already puzzling through her notes. She points to a diagram, says We must’ve taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

I say There are no accidents. We decide to explore for a few minutes before we recalculate and head back to tunnel underground again.

The landscape is wide and seems to stretch forever. There are small brushlike desert plants, animal burrows, and over to the left an arroyo, which I feel like following. I turn to the girl and gesture with my thumb: How about it?

Of course she’s game.

This is Day Eighteen.