In the desert, many people build the cheapest barns possible, then just hope for the best.
I was driving south on New Mexico Hwy. 25 and spotted this little farm near mile 71. I got off at the next exit and pulled in. A man named Francisco beamed at me as he gave his permission for photos.
“I’m not the owner,” he told me. “But I’m in charge. Go ahead.”
Francisco disappeared on a tractor, leaving me free to poke around.
Don’t ever throw away an old tire.