Borderline

Well, yeah, I did leave Studio City at 4:30 a.m.









Nashie was not happy.










I played the slots by the beautiful Salton Sea.







It was too early to find a date shake on the 86 south but not too early to lose at wheel of fortune. I was not happy.



I saw some migrant field workers, south of Mecca, (Mecca!) (my second infidel Haj) north of Brawley. I didn't take any pictures of the field workers. I kept driving. I won't tell you the Gary Soto poem they made me think of, working there. Or maybe I will tell you the Soto poem. I'll tell you later. During poetry hour. I went down to Calexico to see the fence. That's Cal on this side of the fence, and that's Exico on the other side of the fence. Or Calexico over here and Mexicali over there. With a fence between the two.
I took two lane blacktop 98 as far along the border as it went, probably about 30 miles. There was more fence along the way:

Then the two lane road ended and I joined the fast-lane people on the Interstate and before I knew it I was over in Yuma. I had to turn around, returning once again to California to get you-know-whats:
Back in Yuma at the Chevron station I spotted a happy sight from my childhood. (Hola Scott.)







I don't remember where but somewhere I was asked by three Border Patrol young men in uniform who I am and where I'm from and where I'm going and where I was born. Believing me, they waved me through. The desert was so very very hot on July 3rd -- maybe 114 degrees -- maybe more -- that I jettisoned my intention to go down to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and pitch my tent like Yerbooty, Sheik of the burning sand, and look at the stars and the cacti and maybe some wildlife and hike the trails and listen to the night and think about Kris Eggle, RIP, and see the border towns of Lukeville and Sonoyta. Plus, I was still fresh in the rolling mode, not ready to stop yet -- too soon -- so I stayed on the Interstate, hydrating, listening to Fuego (channel 90) on my XM all the day long (thanks, J--- M), I love it when Karla Rodriques (K-Rod) says "schnizzel" en espanol, never get tired of that. Later passing by the military plane bone yard -- looking south I could see it from the highway, but it was too late in the day to stop -- until Tuscon, where I turned right and, hydrating, headed south to Nogales. I could see my other planned stop -- San Xavier del Bac Mission -- the lights were on -- it was calling me -- but, still hydrating, I kept rolling to Nogales/Nogales. One Nogales on this side of the border, one Nogales on the other side of the border. I didn't take any pics of the fence in Nogales. I ended my first day there, where I was, where it was cool and green, rather than where I had been, where it was hot and hot.