You don’t need any signs to explain what you’re looking at when you’re near Arizona’s Kayenta Mine. All you need is a copy of Ed Abbey’s The Monkey Wrench Gang.
Like any good preacher will tell you, there’s a long line of people waiting for salvation, and on this road many of them drive tractor-trailers. So you wait, and the waiting makes you see where you really are.
We look at one another. Are we really going to camp here? We’re in the middle of nowhere Mississippi, we have no map, there are no other people, and the forest may or may not be haunted by Nazi ghosts…
It’s night. A group of figures sits around a counter as light streams out of the building. You don’t know who they are or what they are thinking, but the scene feels familiar nonetheless.
