(Random thought: What's with bugs and light? If they like light so much, why don't they just be daytime bugs?)

No matter what else is going on, a stop at The Thing? is mandatory . . .

Driving through Willcox, AZ (home of Rex Allen), I notice a huge flashing sign trying to spell out "FOOD" one letter at a time--only the D isn't working, so it spells out F O O, flashes several times, then repeats.

. . . if only for another Thing? squished penny.

Tucson: last time I was in this part of the state, I was on a bicycle. But, as long as I keep the tank as full as I can, Whip It!'s keeps running strong. I no longer long for a bicycle (although I do have the Creamcycle in the trunk).

Driving a car that would make such a great low-rider (you could fit a battery of batteries in Whip It!'s trunk), you tend to encounter a lot of gang guys. As I gas up at about 10 p.m. in Tucson, a carload of bangers approaches. No worry, though--they've always been friendly, and these guys are no exception. "You got it goin' on, or what?!" says one. "One of a kind, de verdad!"

Or another Thing? shirt.

11:30 p.m. AZ time. Through many dangers, toils, and snares: Home, finally. Whip It! had to fight for every mile, but she made it. Made pretty good time, too--for 60 miles an hour.

Seems as though a lot of my projects are illustrative of what Doctor Johnson called "The Vanity of Human Wishes."

I had wanted to get from Phoenix to Houston in two days, and return in two days. Though it happened differently from how I'd planned it, it still happened.

And of course one must stock up on essential supplies.

Maybe it isn't exactly the way everyone would want to experience 2,500 miles. But, as always, it was fun anyhow.