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Low flying in the desert of New Mexico
I hitchhiked a flight from Albuquerque in January, and for miles and miles there wasn't a road or any sign of a civilization until we passed this plateau with a desert ranch in its shadow. It was January, and the side that hadn't seen the sun all day was still covered in fresh powder. We flew lower around an archeological dig site and then Arnold, the pilot of the home-built, two-seat airplane, said something I will never forget: "I'm going to cut back a bit and then we will follow the Rio Grande up to Sante Fe." I wondered when in my life I would ever hear that again.
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