I'm not talking about a tropical paradise, where the crystal blue water laps at the white sand beaches and the faint smell of tanning oil catches in the breeze through the palm tress that shade you while you sip your frozen strawberry daiquiri. No, the kind of paradise I'm talking about is much different. In this paradise, the weather is hot and dry and the horizon stretches for miles with no other signs of human life. The ground is dusty and covered with cactus and other scrub brush. The only relief you get from the heat is in the shade of your Stetson and the only thing to quench your thirst is the contents of your aluminum beer can. Your sources of entertainment include picnics under a Madrone tree; shooting rattlesnakes with a 9 mm; feeling the wind in your hair as you ride in the back of an old pickup as it races down a long dirt road; grilling on an open flame; watching the wild havalenas as they come down to feed; singing along with a guitar and a guy who thinks he sounds like Robert Earl Keen....
Yes, this is true paradise; and I was lucky enough to experience it for three wonderful days with the best of friends.
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