Beyond, we pass a cemetery, then the city limit sign. Riding two abreast, we look like desperados about to lay siege. If it were high noon, I would expect Gary Cooper to face us down. But it is four o'clock in the afternoon and we approach unchallenged. Gravel turns to pavement and we clomp down the main street of Tombstone.
Cars dive to the roadside, their occupants gaping.
Even tourist-laden stagecoaches rein to a stop. Passengers and teamsters crane their necks for a better look. We reach the boardwalk section of town where the OK Corral still stands. Here the Clantons met their match, but no Earps embarrass our day. We continue past Big Nose Kate's, a saloon with a sign advertising baths for a buck.