We’ve driven down south for the weekend at the invitation of our friend Arturo Silva, who asked if we’d be interested in camping out with him, his son, also named Arturo, and a family friend, Ricky. With Arturo on the grill and a chance to hang out in the wilds of southern Arizona, there was no question if we’d go.

The campfire grows small as it gets late out here, not far from the old ghost town of Arivaca near the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge. We love camping.