In the distance I could not see what the two objects were. As I got closer, they were two people carrying so much. It was late July and 97 degrees in the afternoon heat. The man in the front had sweat and salt stains running down his face. The small woman behind him seemed to have a bigger bundle of possessions. I did not ask why. I asked only Where are you going? He said only two words - Los Angeles. They were passing though a small town in Northern New Mexico called Las Trampas. I watched them go on up the hill, their expressions never changing. It was as if they had gotten used to carrying so much. That weekend I had a garage sale. There was so much that I did not need. There was so much I still wanted.