The road trip, it has been by immortalized many an author, from Kerouac's stream of consciousness, to Steinbeck's descriptive narrative, to the frenetic, drug-fueled musings of Hunter S. Thompson. It's an American tradition.
Tires humming beneath me, chewing up endless miles as they roll west. The loneliness of the small hours of the morning, the only company my four-legged companions snoring contentedly in the back, and the music - Tom Petty, Janis Joplin, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, all whose lyrics I belt out at the top of my lungs, windows down to let the cool air wash over me and keep me alert.
Gas stops pared down to minutes - fill the tank, let the dogs stretch their legs, grab a drink to make sure caffeine levels remain high enough
Tires humming beneath me, chewing up endless miles as they roll west. The loneliness of the small hours of the morning, the only company my four-legged companions snoring contentedly in the back, and the music - Tom Petty, Janis Joplin, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, all whose lyrics I belt out at the top of my lungs, windows down to let the cool air wash over me and keep me alert.
Gas stops pared down to minutes - fill the tank, let the dogs stretch their legs, grab a drink to make sure caffeine levels remain high enough