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Writer's pictureJason

Head West I May Have


The American West* is a beautiful place. I so enjoy its mountainous terrains, from the northern ice capped behemoths to the red arched ships of state through Utah to the fir and mesquite covered crags and ravines of southern lands. Once upon a time, a personal dream was to live upon a secluded mesa top with only helicopter or climbing access. (Though I would, of course, have a hidden elevator sunk within the mesa in order to descend swiftly and secretly to my fleet of totally cool mobiles in my J-Cave garage.) Anyway, as I mentioned, secluded mesa: rooms with a private view. Now I'm here, and though it's not a mesa (and doesn't have either helicopter, elevator, or fleet of anything faster than tumbleweeds), it is secluded with a private view. Oh, and barely a hint of electronic access.


The struggle is real, folks; witness! I'm currently smackdab in one of the least covered areas remaining in the continental US and my cellular and wifi service is sporadic and often feeble. I'm not even certain this message will get through in a timely manner, but I swear I will faithfully carry forward, no matter the odds, to keep sharing heroics with all the RBE family. Whenever you read this, take heart: I shall return!


*Mae West is rather a beauty herself, as the story of this 1936 flick aptly indicates.


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