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| Hand shown actual size |
Annie grabbed her smartphone (Computer Age girl) and I grabbed my stick (Middle-Aged girl), and we set out for a walk.
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| I didn't include this for its photographic splendor. |
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| Howdya do? Howdya do! Best be going! Yep, me too.
This area planned to be a housing development. We knew better, so it was good to have Annie's newfangled find-yourself-thing. We ended up bushwhacking our way home. We were so invigorated that we jumped into the Tracker and bumped off down a "road."
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Finally, I understand the backpacks (thanks, Lucy). Coyotes sell these "survival packs" (bottles of electrolyte solution, cans of food, a dollar-store can opener) on the other side of the border. They get hopeful immigrants to the US side, point toward a city 60 miles away, and buena suerte.
A couple of miles down the "road" a pair of big dogs headed after us and chased us, with intent, for a mile. We were not on foot.
