The wagon ruts were quieted when the transcontinental railroad was built in 1869. Now people fly, or drive across Interstate Highways missing all the little whistle stops that are quiet along the nearby two-lane roads. The landscape here has often been crossed in search of something more. It now contains a bypassed space that is set apart, and left alone. What remains is a new breed of people influenced by the past, while creating a new life with remainders of the land. Carbon is to unquenchable desire for experience and resource, as County is to its untenable, bordered end.