Left from St. Louis, drove down Highway 44 towards SW Missouri.
Drove into Tulsa, OK and got gas. Kept driving towards Texas.
Stopped in Lubbock, Texas for some late afternoon coffee to keep on trucking.
Texas started getting real flat, real fast. And hot. It was the middle of August. We had all four windows down in the little faded gold sedan that was currently hurtling down the highway doing well over 90.
Three shirtless dirty-blonde haired boy-men shat shirtless, sweat soaking into tan cloth seats. The overwhelming noise of the wind was drowned out by miraculously powerful speakers blasting Rainbow Kitten Surpise and three off-key baritones belting passionately.
We kept flying.
Darkness crept in unoticed. Conversations started drifting to sleep, so we searched for a campsite. Unpacked, setup, middle of nowhere New Mexico.
It rained that night, but we debated well enough and flied down properly.
Onwards towards Arizona, desert growing and growing, flatness as far as the eye can see. Even I pushed a century with that gas-sipping four-pot and standard transmission.