We now temporarily abandon our trusty Montero (which is becoming more and more
important to us as we get further and further away from civilization and
closer and closer to a ‘non-existent’ government installation). We strayed
out away from the dirt track, carefully walking along the border through the
scrub. We peered across the border, looking for anything. What we would find
as we walked was a huge chrome sphere mounted high on a steel post. This post
was in-line with the border. We cautiously approach it, thinking back to the
first time we saw H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds. Is it just a marker?
Maybe there’s a camera inside recording our slow movements. (Smile!) Maybe
it’s capacitors are charging as we stare into it. Possibly getting ready
to cook us from the inside out if we decide to insanely make a dash across
the border. Imaginations can easily run wild out here. There’s certainly
nothing sane around to stop them.
We headed back to the Montero, occasionally glancing back to make sure the
strange silver sphere hadn’t moved or change in some sort of way. We piled
back in, closed the doors and glanced at each other. Both of us wondering
if the Montero was indeed going to start. We’ve defiantly been conditioned
(through T.V. programs and horror movies) to believe that there was no way
in hell it was going to start. In fact, the actual program would probably go
something like this. The setting, out in the middle of the fucking desert,
two poor souls looking for excitement around secret government facilities. They
see something in the distance. Then stop the car and anxiously grab the
ignition. They turn off the car and run to identify what it what they saw.
They get only three feet away from the car when a bright, white light blinds
them from the south. They quickly turn, and flee back to the car screaming
in terror. One fumbles with the keys, frantically trying to ram the wrong key
into the ignition. Finally, orientating the correct key, the terrified
driver, crams the key in the ignition and turns. Nothing happens. Then the
film breaks and the man running the projector leans out his square window and
apologizes for the mishap – back to reality.
Our trusty Japanese, beast turned right over and gave us a roar of relief.
We then headed back a ways to the start of the ‘Freedom Ridge Expressway’
(again pointed out to us by Mr. Campbell’s informative viewer’s guide). This
‘expressway’ has he humorously likes to call it is another 4 wheel drive track
which runs up the side of a fairly steep hill to ‘Freedom Ridge’ (also cleverly
named by Mr. Campbell). We now switched the transmission to low 4WD and slowly
begin our ascent up the side of the hill. The sun has now reached the
horizon and things are getting harder and harder to see. The faded orange
posts that is. The ‘expressway’ at times, runs incredibly close to the border
of the neutral zone, um, I mean restricted zone. Both pairs of eyes are pinned
on the orange posts as we wind close then away then close to the border.
The sun has almost disappeared now and our eyesight has withered away with it.
About half way up the track our new driver(a.k.a the art director, a.k.a the
Den-man) spots a few spooky objects in the distance. We grab our 40 U.S.
dollar, 10×50 binocs and try and get a better image. What we see on the other
side of the border is another mysterious chrome sphere and tripod. The sphere
was exactly like the other we examined earlier. The tripod stood there
carrying an enclosed video camera, a relay antenna and a small solar cell
obviously used to power the camera and transmitter. Unidentified movement
was spotted in the distance a little farther from the equipment. There was
defiantly something out here interested in us. Later we both assumed it was
more anonymous Jeep Cherokee guys. We cruised by the camera (smiled!) and
continued up to ‘Freedom Ridge’.
Once on top of the ridge we had a clear view of the non-existent installation.
We could see the dry lake bed (a.k.a. Groom Lake), several huge hangers,
satellite communications equipment, a whole city of buildings along with the
7 mile long runway (one of the longest in the world I might add). We watched
as a pair of Cherokee Jeeps drove away from their latest contraption which
stood on a nearby ridge on the other side of the border. Even with the 40
U.S. dollar binocs we couldn’t really tell what they had left behind to
monitor us with. All we could see was another tripod setup with something
of some sort pointed directly at us. Was it a camera? A new security device
perhaps? It was also draped with camouflage netting. Actually, it looked
like a really bad attempt at mimicking a Joshua tree. This particular tree
was made out of aluminum and had three shinny trunks instead of one dull
brown one. Nice try. It was also up here where we met another curious person.
Please forgive me but neither of us can seem to remember his name and no, we
didn’t get a chance to interview him on the 29 U.S. dollar recorder. I know,
I know, pretty lame. I can tell you though, to us, he seemed quite genuine
and friendly. He was a man from Las Vegas who had heard the stories and
rumors also. He had read articles and seen pictures of the non-existent
base, as had we. Basically, he wanted to see if this non-existent nonsense
really did existent. He wasn’t here to look for UFOs (although that’s what I
like tell people who ask me), but just to see something that our honest
government says isn’t here. Mr. Campbell sums it up nicely by offering you the
“chance at espionage without ever breaking the law”. We talked with the
gentleman for awhile, exchanged backgrounds and recited stories which we had
heard. We then returned to the comforts and high tech amenities of the
built-in Montero observing deck. (Our observing deck consisted of the roof
of the fabulous Mitsubishi Montero, a pillow or two and our 40 U.S. dollar,
10×50 binocs – very plush I know). There we stayed, watching the stars
appear from their light draining sky. Of course we also kept a close eye
the non-existent base as it tightened down for the night.