Near the U.S. border with Mexico, at an elevation of 5,300 feet, is the tiny town of Bisbee, Arizona. My brother Brandon lives there with his fiance. Alexis is from Arizona originally and one of her dreams was to live there one day. The three of us drove down from Tucson yesterday afternoon. While we were still a few miles outside of the city, snow began to fall. I have witnessed Arizona snow storms on two out of four of my trips here. A white desert seems odd because it is odd.
Bisbee is home to many artists and crafts people. The town’s principle reason for being has gone. Mining of the Bisbee area’s precious resources halted some time ago. What remains of it are the gated ruins of a future time. The land has numerous mining related towers, and other structures in good repair. The desert is ideal for the preservation of discarded things.
Brandon wanted to take me to his favorite hot-dog restaurant for lunch. I ordered an Italian sausage with marinara, provalone, and hot peppers. The ladies at Jimmy’s were right; it was the closest hot-dog I’ve ever eaten to the flavors of lasagna.
The three of us also walked many of the steps which serve to make up the Bisbee 1,000, climbed Castle Rock, walked through a dozen shops, and admired the Peace Wall. The people are very nice here. Shopkeepers are used to dealing kindly with gawkers.
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