Crater Lake To Stanley, Day 6 : Amusement

I’m biking my way out from Christmas Valley, having decided to go east and bypass Summer Lake and Paisley because it’s clearly too hot to camp. Around me the desert scrolls by, and no cars are forthcoming, and I’ve had Spaghetti Western themes running through my head all day, so…

“Ahem. …

Dunna dun dun, da-dun da-dun DUNT

KEEP YOUR HAND ON YOUR GUN

DON’T YOU TRUST ANYONE (da-dun da-dun DUNT)

THERE’S JUST ONE KIND OF MAN THAT YOU CAN TRUST – THAT’S A DEAD MAN

OOOOOR A GRINGO LIKE MEEEEE”

I can probably be heard for half a mile, but there’s no one around for much more than that… I hope…

“Dunna dun dun, da-dun da-dun DUNT

BE THE FIRST ONE TO FIRE

EVERY MAN IS A LIAR (da-dun da-dun DUNT)

THERE’S JUST ONE KIND OF MAN THAT TELLS THE TRUTH – THAT’S A DEAD MAN

OOOOOR A GRINGO LIKE MEEEEE …”

(Ennio Morricone, Gunfight At Red Sands)