And they say you can’t go home again

The next morning we head south-west, but rather than follow the road we cut through the low-lying hills. This cunning plan was an attempt to shorten the travel time, but it didn’t really work out like that.

The going is a little rough cross country, and sometimes our progress could more accurately be described as ‘falling’ rather than climbing, but I don’t want to be forced to stay the night in Nippton.
Sure I stayed overnight there a fair few times while I slowly looted the homes of its slaughtered inhabitants, but that was hardly my finest moment and I’d rather stay well clear.

It’s like a hundred voices cried out in pain, and then were silenced by the sound of sweet cash-money.

It’s like a hundred voices cried out in pain, and then were silenced by the sound of sweet cash-money.

The burning homes really help bring out the sun-set.

The burning homes really help bring out the sun-set.

Despite Joe’s attempt at mountaineering it’s getting late when we reach Nippton, but rather then stop we head north up through the canyons. By the time we reach the old train platform (the one where I’d once spent the night, back when I was fleeing Goodsprings), the sun is gone completely.

We rest there for the remainder of the night, but I set the Pipboy to wake us at six the next morning. I’m not normally a morning person, especially since I’ve become addicted to scotch, but we’re almost there now, and I’m eager to see how Goodsprings is fairing.

For the second time we leave the path I originally travelled when fleeing Goodsprings and we take a shortcut, cutting through the hills until we find the road north.
No stupid hangover is going to ruin my triumphant return.

We are attacked not long afterwards by a grey gecko. After fighting Fiends, Jackals, Nightstalkers, mutant wasps, raiders and countless other horrors, it’s actually a relief to see a grey gecko… which, all things considered, is basically dinner on legs.

It's like a post-apocalyptic meals-on-wheels

It's like a post-apocalyptic meals-on-wheels

Ha! Whose the bad-ass now!?

Ha! Who's the bad-ass now!?

I draw my gun and fire once, which is enough to kills the lizard and send it’s delicious, meaty body slumping to the ground.
And it’s not just good eating – as well as enough meat to feed me for a day or so, I’m also able to retrieve an impressive leathery hide from the gecko’s corpse.
I’ve really missed the simple ‘winner eats the loser and wears their skin as a cloak’ dichotomy of Goodsprings.

And they say you can never go home

Home is where your potential financial empire begins

It’s not too much longer before we can see Goodsprings in the distance. Feels like coming home.

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