My wife Pam and I are back in Arizona for a week, in the same Dragoon Mountain area.

Before I left home, I happened to check the internet ship traffic site for the Strait near where we live. The first ship icon I selected was the ocean tug named "Cochise", of all things. Put your consciousness on some subject, and you can't get away from it. I have been explaining to people that I go off into Apacheria. Apacheria was the term for the time and place of the Apaches, ending with the surrender of Geronimo. The place roughly exists today, but clearly it is short on Apaches. The real Apacheria exists partly in place, but is largely a "virtual" realm, as all history. I am spending another week here, in and out of Apacheria.

Today we drove through Middlemarch Pass and south around the bottom of the Dragoons, which means I now have been all the way around. On the east side, after the Pass, and a bunch of miles on red dirt roads, we came to Pearce. Pearce is described as a ghost town, one of many mining villages that have faded. It still exists on the map and as a crossroads with a few occupied structures, and a former post office. Going south on another dirt road I figured this was probably the most miles I would drive in Arizona without seeing a motorhome. Come to think of it, we went most of the way without passing a car. This area is not a big draw for tourists. In bright sun we drove for miles through mesquite covered desert, occasionally seeing old mine diggings. We passed two more ghost towns which still showed adobe walls and foundations.

After a total of about 80 miles, we came west to Tombstone, which put us square back in Touristland. Back in the late 1800's, there was a time when Tombstone's population of 15,000 surpassed Tucson's. Today its population is swelled each day by visitors who want to see something of the cowboy and mining era. We had to go through it on our way back, plus we wanted to visit the old courthouse, now a State Parks museum. The courthouse was excellent, and my favorite thing was the account of a witness of the execution in December 1883 of the Heath Gang, who had robbed a store and killed a few folks.

In particular it was the last words part of the account that I liked. Heath, the leader said, "I'm not afraid of death. I've been close to death before"

The next bandit, when asked, "What have you to say?" replied, "Nothing. I guess deserved it.

Bandit Dowd said "Since I'm a cowpuncher, I'd have to say a bull broke my neck."

Bill Delaney: "This is the damndest choking machine I ever saw."

Bandit Kelly: "Let 'er go, Gallagher."