Tombstone

It’s a bit unfair to call this post Tombstone when actually I spent most of the day outside of Tombstone.

I went out for a breakfast which was huge. Two eggs, bacon, hash brown, toast and two cups of coffee. I was pretty surprised that I ate it all considering I had just eaten a half-rack of very meaty ribs the night before. But there you go.

After breakfast, for which, by the way, I was surrounded by cowboys, I head back to my room for a Skype and to pack my bag for the day. It’s hot and sunny today and my mood is vastly improved from yesterday. I’m OK with leaving. Yes, I could stay, but home calls, and that’s nothing but good.

I head out to visit Boothill Cemetery, the old Tombstone cemetery from 1878 where a number of Tombstone’s famous and infamous old residents are buried. It’s very close and very good. It was used up until 1884 then fell into neglect until some Tombstone residents decided it was time to sort it out. Years of hard work, tracking down relatives, searching through archives and such have paid off, if you ask me. Some superb graves providing a fascinating image of the west as it was – the vast majority have been shot.

The brothers who were shot at the OK Corral

From Boothill I head to Fairbank, a ghost town not far outside of Tombstone. My hopes are high but realistically, given my recent history of ghost towns, I’m not too expectant. Good job too as Fairbank, while definitely a ghost down, doesn’t have much going on. I see a trail sign saying I can walk to the old cemetery or the old mill, and decide to give the cemetery a go – it’s closer, after all. I walk and walk and walk.

The going is slow as there are around a quadzillion grasshoppers. I’ve never seen so many. With every step I take, a thousand of the things jump out of my way, and rustle in the bushes. The inevitable happens, and one jumps and falls between my foot and my flip-flop and I squish it with my foot. At least it wasn’t one of the big ones. The sign at the start of the trail told me to watch out for poisonous animals so every rustle I hear is either a rattlesnake or some kind of tarantula coming to get me. The path is so overgrown and so filled with grasshoppers that I find a branch and use it to sweep the ground ahead to scare away any monsters. Call me paranoid but I’m the middle of nowhere and I’m very much aware that if – albeit it a big if – I get bitten, things could go wrong. It’s very exciting.

The sign said it was 0.4 miles to the cemetery. I don’t know if a mile is a different thing in America, but it wasn’t 0.4 miles. It also said the mill was 1.2 miles, which I thought was too far but after a while I round the corner and there’s the mill. Oh well. There’s not much, but I climb about and take some photos.

Nice view

I head back, pretty happy that I’m on the way back. I pass a couple who are just marching through the undergrowth, clearly not afraid of poisonous creatures and I feel a bit silly with my stick. We have a chat and they tell me the path to the cemetery is completely overgrown, so don’t bother. Fine by me.

I’m pretty bloody hot by now and am very relieved when I get back to the car. And my water (I know, I know). I crank down the windows and air dry on my way to Bisbee.

I’ve never been to Bisbee but it looked good when I passed it so I’m looking forward. I am not disappointed. The town sprung up because of – you’ve guessed it – copper mines. All the houses and stores are perched on the side of the mountains and it looks like a cross between an English and Austrian town. Very cute. There still is a massive mine around the corner, but Bisbee is very much a tourist town, less so than Tombstone mind you, there is a thriving community here, and it shows. First off, I hit the excellent mining museum, which is affliated with the Smithsonian Institution. It’s really, really good. Lots of information about Bisbee and mining, as well as a beautiful collection of minerals and rocks. I’m very pleased. I head out for a walk about.

I see a woman heading up the biggest flight of stairs I’ve ever seen and decide to follow her. There are an awful lot of stairs. At some point we acknowledge each other, but she keeps the lead as I keep stopping to look around. When we get to the top she heads left and I head right. Good view. I see her climbing some rocks so decide to see where she was going and as I clamber over the rock and round the corner I almost bump into her. She’s just chilling on a fantastic boulder that is perched over the town. She’s a local so we talk about the town and Tombstone. I tell her how it looks as if things aren’t great what with all the for rent and for sale signs in Tombstone and she tells me a couple of sad stories about recently opened – and closed – businesses in Bisbee. But she loves it here, and I tell her I’m not surprised. It’s lovely. I hope it survives.

I walk past an antique shop and can’t help but pop in – there are war things and comics in the window. I make my way to the end and see an original At-At Walker. I had one when I was young and tell the owner. He seems pretty happy about this and we talk about how badly we treated our Star Wars stuff when we were young. I used to line up my figures and shoot them with an air rifle. I think they’re mostly buried in the pond now.

I make my way down and head to the Mile High Desert Market and Café (Bisbee is a mile up from sea-level). I buy a Mexican Pepsi although I have no idea what I’m really buying. I have a salad and copious amounts of fluid and realise I have no idea what the time is. It’s just over 3. Blimey.

I head back to the car feeling very pleased. On the way back, the sun is shining, there’s good music on the radio and I feel very happy. I crank up the volume and sign loudly along to Fleetwood Mac. You can go your own waaaaaaay. I’m a little sad I won’t be driving across Arizona anymore, so want to make the most of it.

Almost back in Tombstone, I see a sign for Gleeson out of the corner of my eye. I recall there being talk of a ghost town in Gleeson so turn around and head down the road, not really sure of where I’m going. I’m surprised to find the road is paved. It doesn’t look like it should be, going from the map.

Oh, there it is.

I pass some cows and not much else. I twist and turn and keep a good look out for any ruins. The only ruins I find after around an hour aren’t much, but what the heck – I’m just enjoying the drive.

I decide not to push on so head back the way I came. I pass the cows and give baby cow a good scare. Poor cow. Perhaps it knows that there’s a likely chance it’ll end up on my plate one day. Mama cow seems to have accepted her fate and just gives me that look that only cows can give, and just carries on chewing her grass, which itself has accepted its fate. Circle of life.

Further on the road, a Roadrunner runs across the road. It is, just as the cartoon says, very fast. I curse myself for not having my camera right at hand, but just as I’m over cursing myself, another one runs across, and pauses for a second. It’s not the best shot.

I get back my room at 5, and crack open a cider I bought. I sit outside for a little bit and enjoy the evening then head down to eat. I have fried chicken. My internal organs can’t wait to get back to Denmark.

I take some photos and head back to my room.

Early night tonight. Got to get up early tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about the morning. I’m going to visit Pima Air and Space Museum, which is also home to the Boneyard, where aeroplanes go to die. It’s only open Monday to Friday, and if I hadn’t extended my stay, I wouldn’t have been able to visit, so it all works out well. Expect a lot of photos. Well, more than the usual.