I don't think this is the Durango Bob Dylan was singing about. There aren't any hot chili peppers in the blistering sun, just a really crappy Best Western motel and a tourist railroad that runs to Silverton that seems like a nightmare to someone such as myself, who is always looking for an exit from crappy tourist adventures. In any case, there won't be much blogging this week -- we're heading to Monument Valley in search of the ghost of John Ford. I'll let you know what we find.

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