I didn't know what to expect from this first day, except a lot of driving. Joe Foss Range was a wonder of modern gun range amenities. The buildings and range looked to be about 6 hours old. Thomas (office manager) and Fritz (range manager) were the epitome of courtesy and professionalism, although the 15 minute live fire to 'however long it takes' ceasefire is a bit lopsided to a muzzleloader...not a lot of shots - oh, well, less $$ spent on ammo.
The Casa Grande Range was unsupervised so you had to rely on the intelligence of your fellow users not to blow your head off.  Of the the three ranges, I chose the one without the automatic fire and children without hearing protection. Uh, the cast iron pan didn't make it. Four wonderful interviews, in addition to the 2 at Joe Foss and I called it a day.  Drove to Tucson, had my bourbon, went to bed.  
Woke up to what proved to be a more frustrating day.  But that's for the next post. 

One of the more pressing issues when planning a road trip is the music needed for the drive. Fourteen days on the road (where the radio options are likely to be mediocre classic rock[argh], new Country[blah] and Jagger’s Gospel Radio Station) requires a variety that will maintain wakefulness and yet comfort the soul.  And, as I am of a certain age, I prefer the conceptual feel of the album over a collection of individual songs – although now that Ms. Swift has made her stance on the issue known, it may be that the ‘album-as-a-unified-whole’ is ripe for re-emergence. (The last album on this list being the exception because, well, it’s George Jones, sheesh)  I've given this much thought, and here's what I'll be listening to:

Heart Like a Wheel
Pet Sounds
Guitar Town
Ragged Glory
Lipstick, Lies, and Gasoline
All That You Can’t Leave Behind
Back In Black
Sheer Heart Attack
Close to the Edge
Jagged Little Pill
Led Zeppelin II
Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars
Get Closer
Goldberg Variations (GG)
Prisoner in Disguise
Three Pears
5 Days in July
Darkness on the Edge of Town
Hard Bargain
Dwight Sings Buck
Rumours
Humble Pie: Rockin’ the Fillmore
The Essential George Jones

The preparations for this road trip have kindled thoughts of the Titans; a group of early to middle-aged guys who 'peak-bagged' the Adirondacks in the 1990's. We scrambled and fell, laughed and grimaced, pushing ourselves hard over rock and through brush, wishing the vagaries of late autumn weather to turn in our favor. At the ends of the day as we nursed the cuts, sprains, and aches there were shared smiles that acknowledged the 'all things must pass' of our years. Our wives looked in askance at the need of 'guys-like-us' to endure such self-inflicted damage, but the camaraderie they understood - the sharing of life.
But this one's different.  A solitary journey is inherently introspective, but I have no burning questions, no unsettling issues to resolve. This journey is not about anything. It's not a mid-50's guy not buying a red Porsche, there is no crisis, no need. It's just a whim. Someone asked if I'm doing a documentary, getting the views of gun-toting folk in the back-country of the southwest. At first I thought, 'Well, that's just wrong'. But then something itched...
The ranges I've chosen are off the well-worn track - but not to those who use them. This is their home.  I'm a visitor, an outsider asking to share a piece of their space.  I come bearing arms from centuries past; two centuries now. A century idealized and romanticized. I'm probably, no, certainly carrying those ideals and that romance with me - and these may inform the beginnings of conversations. So the journey is not so solitary at all. But it still has no purpose...unless you count smackin' a steel circle at 150 yards at sunset a worthy purpose...uh, I sure do.