The first day of the journey passed
easily enough.
Quantum and I joked about the "historical
markers" (which we never did seem but which signs for appeared
every several miles or so) and the trend of some of the farmers to
purchase the same maddening color of red paint. We figured some
enterprising salesman had a huge vat of paint to sell. In Texas we
also took note of the lack of actual "rules based" (speed
limits) and informational signs (route numbers). Meanwhile there was
plenty of signage for the darn historical markers and whatever group
had adopted the roads. We went an entire 30 miles between two towns
without a single pointer as to what the speed limit was. Quantum was
sure it was a speed-trap setup.
At 2am we pulled into a truck stop
parking lot and got a few hours of cold, cramped sleep.
So far things were going too easy, and
both of us suspected that was going to end soon, but didn't want to
voice it. There's a reason hobbits don't like adventures.
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