Bob Marley, west of Elko, Nevada

My love for the American West increases, to the point where I am close to not wanting to go anywhere else.

All I have to do is look out at the landscape that surrounds me, filled with emptiness filled with sage filled with rock filled with mountains that are filled with mountains, to know there's nowhere else for me to go.

Not that I've seen it all, but I've seen enough to admire places where the internet has a hard time catching up to me or where it can't find me at all.

The American East is now an Oligarchy served by a Bureaucracy, but the American West hangs onto its cherished freedoms at least as far as Winnemucca.