The rabbits gaze wistfully into the distance. The trailers and containers stand empty. The wind blows unobstructed across the dusty expanses, as it has done for centuries. Tenpa of the Mojave has officially moved away, lock, stock, and two empty barrels. I am gone from the high desert, bound for the bright lights of Los Angeles County. Contrary to all expectations, it seems we will winter at the beach of all places. Who would have thought? Here I was... all set for high altitudes and snow shovels... but the doctor says my old cowboy friend won't find that environment conducive to good health. Blasts of the winter ocean salt mist are better?
Oh, well... any fight, any mission, any time, any condition.