About a month ago, I got that familiar nagging that often happens when I've been a couple of weeks in once place. On this particular afternoon, I dipped off Interstate 17 heading North to explore a string of ghost towns along a winding dirt road. Immediately off the exit, I dove onto a perfect, dusty highway straight into the sun.
A little dot on the map, Cleator, Arizona is a town that has been run by the Cleator family since it closed the 1950s. All that remains now are a few small shacks and a bar -- the perfect watering hole in the middle of nowhere. I met some of the last residents in town there; old miners and desert rats with more words of wisdom than they had teeth. Those afternoon laughs are some I won't be forgetting for a long time.
Driving back to the freeway, I took one of my favorite portraits of the year against the blue moon sky. You never know quite what you'll find down a dirt road, which is exactly why you should take the journey. Keep your wits about you, leave your expectations on the freeway, and drive.