Just Deserts

You see I've been through the desert on a bike with no name

It felt good for the first few days

In the desert you can remember your name

Cuz there ain't another goddamn thing to distract you forever and ever and ever...


I write to you, in a state of culture shock, from a Starbucks in Del Rio, Texas, population 35K souls, some saved, most just hoping for an inattentive, forgiving deity. Last night, we created our own Canadian community in the desert, population 2 transient souls, heavenly all-access pass... doubtful. The crazy pace, lightning-fast wifi, and shocking demographics of Del Rio are making our dirt-spattered heads spin - in a mere half hour, we've already seen over 10 people under 50! So this is where the young people go... Emer can barely cope with the sudden, suffocating near-peer-group immersion.

After 23 days of being surrounded by every manner of botanical prick, we are bidding the desert adios -Texas Hill Country awaits our pleasure. Over the next few days, the trees will go from stunted to stunning, the ground from gravel to grass; a decompression chamber where, deprived of sensory stimulation for weeks, we gradually reacclimatize to surface life. Some people are drawn to the desert. Some people like to cut themselves. I'm just sayin', I'm glad it's over.

(We're on our way to [Bracketville] tonight, {home} of all variations of asides). With luck, the firepeople or sheriffpeople will allow us to erect our tent aside of their dominions, maybe even under a tree. 

This is the bridge to the desert, over the Pecos River. Back in the 1800's, they said there was no law west of the Pecos. Now there are two less people. Peace out.