Wow. It's day 3 and I'm now in Wyoming. This is the sort of thing I pass at 85 miles an hour. Some things I've learned about myself so far:
1. I talk to God. A LOT.
2. I'm scared of passing 18-wheelers because of that movie "Duel" with Dennis Weaver. Thanks a lot, Stephen Spielberg.
3.I especially talk to God when I'm passing an 18-wheeler.
4. One person, one dog and one cat can generate unbelievable amounts of road filth: candy wrappers, soda cups, empty water bottles, wadded up napkins, hotel room entry cards, scattered change, cds (thanks Cory - I especially loved listening to Bowie as I crossed from Utah into Why-O-ming), technology (where's that damn phone?), and other ephemera. Not to mention the actual filth of the road.
Speaking of monster trucks, today, I barely made it around one that was ENGULFED in flames. Cops had passed me going about 100 mph, and that's never good. Then, over the next hill, there it was: a gigantic plume of black smoke about as big as an acre. There was a cop who was making some strange hand signals to me, pointing at one specific part of the road. After I passed him and glanced in the rearview, I realized he had been directing me to stop. In order to circumnavigate the catastrophe, I had to pass through the scary smoke cloud. However, after I was through it, I discovered that no cars followed me. For about 20 miles. Talk about squeaking by...
Still, in spite of my fear, I'm falling in love with this country. Even the crack-ho-bad-halter-top-wearin'-mullet-sportin'-country-folks I experienced at a Motel/Casino last night in Nevada. I'll try and check in tomorrow. Pray for me (and those 18-wheelers...)

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