On the eve of the millennium melt down I threw a bunch of film in my 1984 Dodge Ram and hit the road. I wanted to get out of Florida, and had this girl I wanted to see who was living in California. I think I spent two weeks getting there.
The first stop I made was in Port Arthur, TX. I wanted to see where Robert Rauschenberg grew up. No artistic divine hand touched me.
I spent the first couple of nights along I-10 in the south at rest stops, once I hit Texas I got off the interstate and found this lonely road to stop and spend the night.
A day later I was in Marfa, TX to see Donald Judd's Chinati Foundation, other than getting to see the girl that day was one of the best on the trip. I barely had enough money for gas, so I spent every night in the back of the truck on a twin mattress with my sleeping bag and all the blankets I owned to stay warm. I broke down and splurged on a portable heater one morning after I though I might actually freeze to death (okay a slight exaggeration), only to read hundreds of miles down the road not to use in an enclosed space ... a choice cold feet or brain cells.
I was dying to see White Sands, so I stopped for a day or two in Alamogordo where I also found the Space Hall of Fame. I visited a buddy from college in Tucson, we hiked and photographed for a few days right before Christmas.
I didn't want to impose so I headed south to Tombstone and Bisbee for Christmas Day, it wasn't the first Christmas I'd spent on my own, and I was going to see the girl in a few more days.
Who knows how much T-MAX I shot, and I'm not sure if I knew going in I was going to print all the negatives as diptychs or not. I do know I shot a bunch of film in that Fuji 645 for a couple of years