If there were to be a track to this travel story it’s Rihanna’s Desperado — blaring from the windows of a white pickup truck speeding from California to New Mexico, in search of the entrancing gypsum dunes of White Sands Monument.
Gotta get up out of here
And you ain’t leaving me behind
I know you won’t, ’cause we share common interests you
Need me, there ain’t no leaving me behind
Never know, no, both flying out of here yeah
Once we’re gone, ain’t no going back
The scenario was as such, seeking a change of pace from the urban sprawl of Los Angeles, two babes borrow a pick up, pack their bags, and chase the sun towards New Mexico. A dashboard littered with crystals and bunches of sage, the scene was perfectly set for an enlightened journey.
Sitting in an old Monte Carlo
We’ve both had our hearts broken
Take it easy
I’m not trying to go against you
I can be a lone wolf fishing
The ivory sculpted sand dunes emit a vast mood of noiseless aloneness — the type of place where thoughts can multiply into the infinite space. Beginning as a two day trip, it quickly grew in added hours as they put home on pause for more days dancing in the dunes.
If you want
We could be runaways, running from
And it’s out of luck
Yeah, yeah, there ain’t nothing
There ain’t nothing here for me
There ain’t nothing here for me anymore
I don’t wanna be alone
The wardrobe consisted only of bare feet, billowing white fabrics, eclectic jewels, and micro bikinis — all you need in a locale where the temps hit high of 100 in early spring. Dashing from the park rangers to shed their clothes and run free, they bounded over the sand hills, and under the sun’s rays for what felt like endless moments until the desert turned pink, then black with night, and it was time to return to California.