My truck got sniffed by a drug dog on my second trip ever through a Border Patrol checkpoint.
Coming back up from Nogales the road signs were in kilometers all the way to Tuscon so I had no idea how far away I was from anything.
Every back road I wandered onto had a big sign warning drivers to beware of drug smuggling and illegal immigration. Complete with bullet holes.
A rooster somewhere in the vicinity of my camp kept crowing every day at what I guess he thought was morning but which I considered more like the middle of the night. That got me to wondering how we even still have chickens, given the number of downright murderous coffee-deprived people I run into at such early hours.
Tuscon Mountain Park, Tuscon, Arizona
Added to the Travel Map:
The Museum of Alchemists and Magicians, Prague, Czech Republic – pretty much exactly what it sounds like.