. . . heading West. Well, North West. I don't remember striking out right _through_ the lava. Do y'all? Mebbe we were heading South West — rather than North West like this guy.
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Three friends hit the road the summer after high school, 1973. 25 states, two months, three sunburned left arms, one smelly canvas tent, two printed cards illustrating the deaf alphabet, 721 armadillos, 39,438 pancakes.
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