Highways on Fire: The Beginning of the End

It's a strange day in a strange land, here in Arizona.

Last night, as I stood outside drinking in the cool desert air mixed with a camel cigarette, pondering Scorpio's never ending pursuit of Orion, it struck me that we were on the eve of the last leg of this great journey. Run on sentences abound.

Today, we face one last trip until reaching our destination. One final burn through the Mojave desert, and then into the heart of Los Angeles traffic. While this is the shortest part of our trip, I feel that LA alone will make it the most arduous. I've mastered Harrisburg, and Philadelphia, and even Jersey... but the convoluted traffic system of LA seems a little daunting, even to me. And all the bastards have guns.

After today, my sister will as far away from home as possible without needing a passport, and I will have completed this little pilgrimage. To be quite honest, I could give two shits about Los Angeles. From what I've seen, it is noisy, polluted, and big. If I never cared for New York City, how will I feel about the City of Angels? No, my friends, this trip has never been about my personally getting to California. It has been about going west, and seeing what this great nation has to offer. It has been about getting as far away from the insignificant toils and snares as possible... those little things that distract me and weigh heavy on my mind, while in the end the answers are simple, and the problems small.

This has been about whiling away the long highway hours deep in thought. Just set the controls, son... let the on board computer take care of the speed while you untangle your brain and your sister sleeps.

And, above all, this has been about getting my lovely sister safely across the country on her way to her own great adventure... hopefully teaching her a thing or two about loosening up in the process. She needs this California thing, just as much (if not more) than I needed the trip itself. A change of scenery, a change of mind? This will be good for her, through all the good and bad it may produce.

And so, we ready for the last dance. All that lies between us and Los Angeles is 380 miles of open road, a lot of sand, and the most high strung, cracked out, traffic jam of America.

It's a good thing I brought my crowbar, folks, because this is Bat Country, and there's no stopping now.

- Rev.