One thing I won't miss about Tucson is their mall culture. There ain't nuthin' you can do without a mall. So everything has all the ambiance of a used car dealership.
Some wispy clouds arrive to see us off as we depart Tuscon.
Spawned in the fracked shale of North Dakota, Rodzilla and Broadzilla advance on the evil corporations that disturbed their teatime.
Rodzilla crunches down on that cockle shell. "Crunchy!" exclaims Broadzilla.
Broadzilla demonstrates the food-chain principle: Subway to Human to Petroleosaurus.
Don't forget about me.
We pull off at Desert Centre. More like deserted centre.
What happens when the "Nearest Fuel" feature on your GPS doesn't work out.
No one home at the Cafe either.
Yet the chairs are set - the condiments are ready.
Those darned tripods are always such a hassle.
Once a palm garden.
Pull up a chair - the view's great!
Fire in the sky for the final run into Palm Springs.
Where a lively street market awaits right outside our hotel.
We happened upon this heist as it was about to go down.
Palm Desert, ready for X-mas.
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