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.
Clean water costs a quarter more.
As we ride through, camcorders follow our every move, whirring like Gatling guns. Kodak-armed tourists take careful aim and fire at random. We turn down a side street, dismounting for the last time beside the waiting horse trailers. With two hours before dinner, a few of us mosey up the sidewalk. Like buckaroos at trail's end, we wind up in a music-filled saloon.