Independence Day, July 4, 2007

After Nogales/Nogales it was back to the two-lane roads. Arizona 82 up to Patagonia -- where the street was lined town-border-to-town-border with stranger-welcoming folks in lawn chairs or curb sitting folk or fender sitting folks all awaiting the Independence Day parade that was amassing at the high school on the north end of town.

I may have missed San Xavier yesterday, but I did not miss this little shrine by the side of the road, somewhere between Nogales/Nogales and Pagtagonia this morning.

Scented candles and plastic flowers and braided wreaths and Mary and Joseph and The Man Himself there up off to the side of the road in a little cave. Erected by the 19 century ranch owners, it's maintained now by their descendents. May not get as many many-thousands of annual visitors as San Xavier, but it got my visit to be sure.








Then I continued through this section of the Coronado Nat'l forest, through the little town of Sonoita before hitting the 90 and down to Sierra Vista. I'm somewhat older now than Francisco Vasquez de Coronado was (he was 30 years old) when he began his expedition into what is now the American Southwest in 1540. Unlike mine is, his expedition was considered a failure. Mine's a resounding success already. Though like him -- tho many many years from now (clutching my clicker) -- like Coronado, I probably will die in obscurity. (But not yet.) Nothing wrong with obscurity, that's what I say. Not so anti-fame as I am pro-obscurity these days. Anyway, down through Sierra Vista -- a military town -- who knew? -- very quiet on Independence Day -- and on to the Coronado National Memorial -- and then outta the forest and on to Bisbee and to Naco/Naco (one Naco on this side of the border, one Naco on the other side of the border, then more desert on the way to Douglas/Agua Prieta. Douglas on this side of the border, Aqua Prieta on that side of the border. (My translation: Agua Prieta = Dark water.) Sure there was fence at Dark Water.















But more than dark water and more than fence, there in Douglas/Agua Prieta, there in this border town, was beautiful, muralesque wall-signage and sure evidence of the lineage, if not the birthplace, of El Caliente, (My translation: El Caliente = The Hot One.) the Master of the Flames: (Women want to dine with him. Men want to grill like him. Or, for some women and some men, vice versa)