Some people will say that the desert is a haunted place. They are mostly right. However, the devils in the desert are not the kind that lay hidden in the sage, waiting for some lost soul to stumble upon them. No, these devils are yours alone. The alkali wind stirs them and draws them to the surface like the sweat on your brow. The desert is as haunted as you are. And we are all haunted.
I've known about these devils since a young age, and they are what draw me into the hills, and valleys, and mesas, and solitude of the desert. It's the only fitting battle ground to have it out with these sonsabitches. With the distractions of city life these devils can hide and disguise themselves as things you think are important. But not in the desert. The openness brings them into sharp focus. Scalpel sharp. And once the bastards have finally shown themselves, it's up to you to put the boots to them and leave them on the prairie where they belong.
Not every battle is won, and sometimes you and that devil have to help each other limp back into civilization to nurse your wounds. And not every trip into the sage is a battle, but there are quite a few devils out there.
I have left my fair share of devils in the dust, and lord knows I still have a few to go.