Being in Arizona is being surrounded by a wild west setting. Not in the least because Arizona really is the wild west: in crossing the entire state, we saw a police officer pull someone over once or twice; I see that happening at least double that amount in my twenty minute Saint Louis morning commute. Apart from that, it’s clear to see all of the movies were shot in Arizona and there isn’t a bar that doesn’t hang a picture of a movie set, honoring the local heroes that featured as stable boy extras.
Of course, seeing a place like that leaves you with only one option: horseback riding. And so that’s what we did. We visited the Goldfield ghost town just out of Phoenix, which turned out to be the busiest ghost town in the history of Arizona. Hundreds of people roamed the streets, visiting the brothel, not going into the church, and listening to the guitar-playing cowboy that sings Johnny Cash songs and magically appears wherever more than 100 tourists gather. We decided to escape the crowds, hopped on a horse, and drove out into the wild. Actually, we were guided on to our horses, patiently waiting on each other, and drove out on the beaten path, but if you squinted your eyes, it sure looked like wilderness.