Driving down State Route 80 down into the belly of Cochise County in the badlands – right on the edge of the Arizona-Mexico border – is a little town you might have heard of called Tombstone. If you were to blink, you’d miss it ’cause it’s genuinely one of the smallest little hamlets in the territory, second perhaps to Patagonia or Portal. It’s a strange place, to be sure. It’s also kind of an easy place to dislike because it really is little more than a town banking on the history; it’s undeniable that Tombstone is a small town – a town without much going on – masquerading as a theme park.
I don’t really care.
I happen to have a huge fondness for the place.
The performances are fun, the costumes are as authentic as they get, and the tequila tastes…like tequila.
I’ve never had a bad time in Tombstone. Living so close for so many years, I’ve been through the town more times than I can remember. Fun street performances, amazing costumes, fascinating history, local folks happy to chew your ear off with conversation, and enough booze to murder a herd of elephants – what is there not to like?
Just be prepared to pay a little more for your beverages and dive in.