speaking of impulsive
A roommate and me were kickin it last night, talkin from about 10 till midnight. We started fantasizing about roadtrips. Wanting to go to the beach, either northern or sourthern Cali, maybe Vegas. I remembered that there was a town close by in NV where we could go gamble. We should go sometime. We could go now. Wanna go? Fuk it, let's do it. About to head out the door at midnight, we found out the town was 2 hours away. Bars would be closed by the time we got there. Ok, let's go to WY, it's only an hour. See, bars close at 1 am in UT, so we had to go to a different state, or just wanted to. We jump in the car. Wait, why are we going to WY. What's there? Maybe a strip club. We should go to Moab. Yea, Moab. It's only 3.5 hours away.
Now, it's 12:30 at night. We grab some blankets, jump in my 1987 4 runner I just bought, no backseat, perfect for car camping. We're on our way. After about 20 minutes we see a sign that says our road is closed for construction. FUk it, we're going, we'll take the long way. For awhile we're cruisin, CD player blastin punk ska - less than Jake, Operation Ivy, The Vandals, Catch 22, The Dead Milkmen. Shootin down the highway, no car in site, moon high above us, a sky full of stars, the big dippers just to our right, doin 100 - Gotta get to Moab.
Our high speeds end. Turn onto a small windy road, drivin up the mountain. My poor 4 cylindar truck is doin about 35, strugglin.
It's 3 AM, we need gas. Fuk, my truck is getting 14 miles to the gallon. We still have 2 more hours to go. I'm tired, he's tired. Maybe we should just sleep. We find a nice place to pull off on the side of the road and crash out in the back of the truck. 4am.
Wake up at 8:30, hit the road. Drive home. Stopped at Cabela's on the way, the place is friggin huge. Only takes 2 hours to get home. My back is killing me.
We spent 60 bucks drving through the mountains to.... I'm not sure. We both just needed to get out of town. Reminds me of being 13. I use to sneak out of the house and just wander the streets. I always felt so free in those moments. NO one knew where I was, it was late, no one else around. I could go anywhere, do anything. The world was at my finger tips. Back then I never did much either, just went home. But last was the same feeling. As if I was on the road again, free, no obligations, just cruisin. It was great.
Now, it's 12:30 at night. We grab some blankets, jump in my 1987 4 runner I just bought, no backseat, perfect for car camping. We're on our way. After about 20 minutes we see a sign that says our road is closed for construction. FUk it, we're going, we'll take the long way. For awhile we're cruisin, CD player blastin punk ska - less than Jake, Operation Ivy, The Vandals, Catch 22, The Dead Milkmen. Shootin down the highway, no car in site, moon high above us, a sky full of stars, the big dippers just to our right, doin 100 - Gotta get to Moab.
Our high speeds end. Turn onto a small windy road, drivin up the mountain. My poor 4 cylindar truck is doin about 35, strugglin.
It's 3 AM, we need gas. Fuk, my truck is getting 14 miles to the gallon. We still have 2 more hours to go. I'm tired, he's tired. Maybe we should just sleep. We find a nice place to pull off on the side of the road and crash out in the back of the truck. 4am.
Wake up at 8:30, hit the road. Drive home. Stopped at Cabela's on the way, the place is friggin huge. Only takes 2 hours to get home. My back is killing me.
We spent 60 bucks drving through the mountains to.... I'm not sure. We both just needed to get out of town. Reminds me of being 13. I use to sneak out of the house and just wander the streets. I always felt so free in those moments. NO one knew where I was, it was late, no one else around. I could go anywhere, do anything. The world was at my finger tips. Back then I never did much either, just went home. But last was the same feeling. As if I was on the road again, free, no obligations, just cruisin. It was great.