It's strange how emotions change with memory and vice versa. I remember the burning sun, the salty breeze, my hands hurting from the gas, the grease, the oil and the salt, all combined drying and breaking my skin are four hours of being stuck in the middle of the salt flats trying to fix Joel's bike. In the end it was only the coil and we were lucky to carry one and had all the tools we needed. At the time, wanting to make sure it wasn't going to eat dark before we could leave was weighting on my mind as I was trying to problem solve and make sure I wasn't messing anything else. It was. It wasn't my easiest day but also I kept a positive attitude. Today, I can't think of s better place to break down but such astonishing magical place. It's engraved in my memory because I was standing there for so many hours, often waving at the keeps passing by with people in their roofs looking at us like animals in a zoo, just very curious after all. It makes me want to be there again, broken down and feeling alive.