LOCKED AND LOADED

We're in the Queen Mine RV Park here in Bisbee, AZ.  The place has 25 spaces in an area that should by all rights only accommodate a dozen.  Claustrophobic!  I guess if you don't mind that sardine feeling, listening to your RV neighbor fart and snore or hear their dogs howl, it's the place for you.  For me, it double-sucks.  We are here  because this place is the ONLY RV park in town and there is no where near to dry camp.  OK, enough bitching.  The saving grace was our neighbor J.J.

Originally a fine arts graduate of the Chicago Fine Arts Institute, which over 30 years evolved into computer programing, J.J. now buys land in New Mexico for later selling to augment his upcoming retirement from programing with a Las Cruces firm.

"I'm never without this," He says, as he pats his Smith and Wesson 357 double action pistol.  "Do you mean *everywhere,* J.J.? I ask.  "Yep, everywhere, 24/7," He assures me.  I give him a sideways guy-smile and continue, "What does your wife say to that when you turn out the lights?"   Without missing a beat, he replies, "Oh, she carries too."  I can just hear the metal clashing at midnight.

                                        Main Street in downtown Old Bisbee. 

We rode our bikes from the RV park to the highest part of old town, where the courthouse and St. Patrick Church are perched.  Ironic, the rule of man and the rule of God, side by side atop Calvary hill.  It was a, spill the guts, hard ride by bike, we'll need a day of rest after that spin.

St. Patrick

"LOVE"   The 60's lives on in Bisbee.

We'll be pealing the lid off this sardine can of an RV park in a couple of hours and heading for open spaces.  One stop in Sierra Vista's Walgreen for some script meds and then on to see if we can find a little  people'less BLM bliss.  Not that I don't like people, nor am I  antisocial...I just need a place to fly my kite for a couple of days.  Jackie too is feeling the crush of idiot surround-sound and it just plain old wears a person down after a while.