Without planning it that way, I have spent a lifetime looking for the Anasazi. In books. In clefts in cliffs, as Gary Snyder put it.

We flew into the cape and drove north, but at Todos Santos I reminisced about a better way: through the desert in a 1979 VW bus.

My report on the political crisis in the tiny Carribean nation that happens to be located in Central America. Nobody could phone out the story as it happened because the phones were all sabotaged.

With every trip to the San Luis Valley and back to Santa Fe, I grew fonder of the place. Christopher Columbus liked it too, if my translation is right.