From El Paso, barreling east on I-10 for two hours past mountains of dirt, I exit at the town of Van Horn cruising past a sign that would have once been portentous, reading DIESEL FRIED CHICKEN. Off the county highway, the Chihuahuan Desert rolls out in an expanse of pale green grass to mountains floating like islands in the distance. Great tilted plateaus rise and drop off in concave cliffs, and a train of endless freight cars chugs along to the north.