Made some phone calls, got my ride. Got picked up by a friend of my roomate. The guy was wrapped a little tight. Just graduated and is about to be licensed as a chiroprator. Chiropractor's have always struck me as guys who didn't get good enough grades in med school, so they said,"Hey, what about chiropractics" He immediately got lost for two hours in his home town.

We got on the road and the weather started getting really awful. Blowing snow and ice. And he's driving a rear-wheeled suburban with a v8 350. The pot smoking got cranked up.

We got stopped in the middle of fucking nowhere, on I-80, in Iowa, from midnight 'til 1 in the morning. A semi had jacknifed. The truckers buddied up. I got high. The guy in the car in front of me got head.

It was so desolate out there. I feel for those people. If I had to live in Iowa, Kansas, or Nebraska, I would be absolutely stoned to the gills everyday. There appears to be nothing else to do.

My ride(joe) gave up at four in the morning. So I took over and the sun rose. Put in Pink Floyd's 'division bell' and had great memories from college, and a friend who passed.

Then, in the early morning, the Rockies broke out in the distance, shrouded by mist that burned off in the glare of the western sun. The Snow Capped Peaks were a pleasure to my eyes, a balm to my soul.

Got to Denver and almost ran out of gas.

Pumped gas w/o a coat on.