A warm desert night closing in and the two days of sleep deprivation from the Greyhound wearing on us, we set out to find a place to sleep in Palm Springs. Walking the nearly deserted streets Bob and I found a large dirt lot across the railroad tracks that looked dark and inconspicuous. Near the eastern end of the lot were stacks of giant cement pipes that looked like a good place to roll out for the night. Spotlights in the distance and the echoes of amplified music told us that the Coachella music festival was in full swing not far away. A gruff “Can I help you?” erupted from one of the tubes as I started to climb in. We weren’t the only ones who thought they were a good place to hide out for the night. I don’t generally like to sleep in proximity to people I don’t know on the road, so Bob and I abandoned the idea of sleeping in the pipes and set out in search of another place. Soon we found another vacant lot next to a mini mart, and a hollowed out space under a clump of small trees that kept us out of sight of the road. The area didn’t have any signs of recent residents so we rolled out our sleeping bags, bought some beer from the mini mart and retired to our cozy tree-tent for the night.