mommy won't approve
We drove up to Santa Cruz today, and about a hundred miles from our destination on the 101 in some town called Gonzales, the type of place that seems to serve only as a pit stop featuring gas stations and franchised restaurants, the back right tire of the Jeep exPLOded. It was crazy. From the noise I thought we'd run over a renegade mailbox. My dad handled the situation very well - we drove right onto the shoulder with no issues, except for the fact that the tire had exploded. It was a very interesting experience, the sort of thing I only glimpsed from a successfully moving car. But this time we were the main attraction for all those long-distance drivers, blasé from all the miles of crop fields and cattle herds. "Hey look - glad we're not those people," as they poke their heads out the windows and at seventy miles per hour, the current whips their hair into their eyes and mouths. After the hourlong delay we were back on our way. And I love it here! I had more to say but my dad's yelin' at me to go to bed. Bye.