The remoteness of the town of Cancionero was suggested by a trip I once took up the old Apache Trail.

Then it was only a dirt road, one and a half lanes wide, that skirted the cliffs and hillsides, without any barrier between the edge and the abyss.

If you met a car or a pickup coming in the opposite direction, one of you had to back up until you reached a spot that was wide enough for you to pass.

Once a year (or so) the state ran a bulldozer over it to flatten the soil; but at other times, it was left to the mercy of the elements.

They may have paved it by now; civilization eventually overruns everything, like creeping moss. . .