The California desert is criss-crossed with dirt roads. When I hike across the Mojave, more often than not, I'll spend at lest some time following an old jeep route. But where do they go? I'll follow the track across the desert and it'll just end, way out there, in the middle of nowhere. At one time there was a logic to all that road building. Mines now filled in, old homesteads, blown away by the desert winds, World War 2 bombing ranges and observation posts. I'm sure this road was well used when this photograph was taken, and there was a reason for these three people to be there. But what was it? There is a small building in the depression in the background.
There's a whole story to that shot. Perhaps the two older men are brothers and that place off in the distance holds fond memories. Now just a ghost house.
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