We left the Colorado foothills at midnight on a Tuesday; and we sped across the Great Plains in the dewy morning; over Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains, sparkling and alive with fireflies, then out to the sandy dunes of North Carolina's Outer Banks to rest our tired heads. Two thousand miles in thirty-six hours; stopped twice but no tickets.
Naturally, we screamed Bright Eyes lyrics into the Nebraskan sunrise Wednesday morning.
We tried to nap in Lincoln, and wait to meet my friend Stephanie, but the road was calling us and we could not wait.
So on we drove, until we reached North Carolina, at noon on Thursday.
We swam and sunbathed, drank gin and tonics to keep cool during the hottest hours of the afternoon. At night we drank whiskey and wine and the darkness swallowed us because no moon came out. We lived like kings for two days then piled back into the car, in which, sun roof open, we headed north, across the churning Chesepeake, and through the quiet states of Maryland and Delaware, finally, finally, to be home in Pennsylvania.
this is our bridge, where we could hang out and no one would know that we were they and what we were doing which was mostly to drink wine coolers and talk, but the privacy seemed so devastatingly important back then.
hmm this looks scary.
yes this is exactly as scary as we thought it would be; also it is hard to climb this ladder carrying a sixpack and a flashlight wearing flip flops thinking about how horror movies always begin with young energetic folks deciding to explore dark weird places.
okay, through the looking glass.
finally it's not scary.
