dokodemo

After taking the (always futile) photos of the sunset, I got back into the van and turned on the headlights. About 100 yards down the road, I thought "the lights are sure not very bright". They were not on. I pulled onto the next little turnout pad, a big pile of mud on the side of a cliff. Luckily for my safety, there was a log on the edge to keep me from plummeting over the side. I checked fuses, wiggled the switches, and received no light joy. I spent the night there.

All night I was laying there half-awake, waiting for the police to pound on my window, reminding me that camping on the side of a treacherous mountain road is not safe. I would then explain, startled and sleepy, that driving without headlights is also not safe. The cop would say "ah yes, that is also illegal. Lets go downtown, boy".

These fears were in vein, though, since no cars came by. Well, one did right after I stopped, and another came by around 4am. The one at 4am layed on the horn the whole time they passed me.

I sat there awake, waiting for the sun to rise so I could drive into a town and work on the lights. In the morning, the lights worked.

The road I was on was a designated scenic route. As I approached Safford, AZ, the scenic designation ended, and sure enough, I suddenly happened upon a horrible and sad stripmining area. Bleach. I had to roll up the windows, it was so dusty. Some cool mega dumptrucks, etc, but thats not enough to say its worthwhile. I have been a consumer of cinderblocks in the past, so I guess I support this industry, but geez is it nasty.

Long story short, the headlights are still busted, intermittantly. I spent the weekend in Tucson, and have an appointment to have the lights worked on. Story of the Tucson weekend to follow.