It was October vacation time. The Lady of the House and I were staying in Tombstone, Arizona.
“Let’s go to Bisbee,” I said to The Lady of the House. This is the mile-high town where I once lived, about 20 miles from Tombstone.
Often when I tell tales of when I lived there folks around here wonder if I was in an open-air asylum: It’s a town full of characters, alternative thinkers, artists and tourists.
We hit the road and in a short bit we were driving through a tunnel that opened up to Bisbee, county seat of Cochise County, Arizona.
We motored through the downtown section of the burg known as Tombstone Canyon, full of shops, art galleries, tourists, folks asking for handouts, hippies and young people in dreadlocks.
“I once thought about having dreadlocks,” I said as we drove past the town’s open pit mine. “I don’t think I have enough hair. And they’re a lot of work.”
The Lady of the House chuckled as she looked out the window.
We continued on through the various sections of the old town, once the most populous in all of the Arizona Territory because of the copper mining.
I took a turn down an old road and headed south.
“Where are we going now?” asked The Lady of the House as we passed a Border Patrol SUV parked by the side of the road.
“The border,” I said. “See those mountains? That’s Mexico.”
“I don’t need to see the border,” said The Lady of the House.
“But you can see Mexico.”
“I see Mexico,” she said pointing at the mountains in the distance.
I did a u-turn and headed back to Bisbee.
“A town of characters and small businesses,” she said.
“They say if you want to make a small fortune in Bisbee, come with a large one.” I said.
“It’s a tourist town with hippies and kids with dreadlocks,” said The Lady of the House. “I like it.”
Grant McGee is a long-time broadcaster and former truck driver who rides bicycles and likes to talk about his many adventures on the road of life. Contact him at: firstname.lastname@example.org.