Just a normal night in college for Queer and I. He can't sleep. I can't sleep. What else is there to do in the middle of a cold night in the winter? Drive to Blair's of course, the 24/7 grocery store in our little college town of Wyoming.
"Feel like going to Blair's?" He asked.
I stared at my phone for a moment. 1:13am.
"Yeah, but we have to be quick. I have math in the morning." No one makes me miss my math class. No one.
"Yeah, I just want to get a quick something to eat."
We get in Bjorn- the name of his Toyota Turcel- and make our way on this five minute adventure. When riding past the parking lof of Blair's, Queer says," I'm not tired. Feel like driving to Lovell with me?" About a good forty-five minute drive.
I look at the clock in his car. "Fuck it. I'm not tired either."
I remember it was a crisp night. I always loved nights like that- not the cold, but the feeling of his super hot heater on my legs, the loudness of his little car as we trucked along on the highway, and the volume of his stereo. Not the best, but I associate that stereo with a lot of good memories. (This being one of them.) Nothing was said between us for that first forty-five minutes. Nothing usually ever is. Just enjoying the presence of each other is always enough.
We pull up to the gas station. "I'm not really hungry anymore. I've never been to the mountains past here," he says,"feel like exploring?"
I look at the time again. I look to him, smile. He turns around and heads in the direction of the mountains. I can always tell when he has something to say. He'll light up a cigarette, roll down the window a crack, and reach to turn down the music.
"You know they've seen UFOs out here. A large number of sightings."
"I believe it. With it being so open and all. No one would want to be in Wyoming except damn aliens."
We chuckled softly,"Yeah," he agreed, "Remember that one time?" And he didn't have to finish his sentence. I remember. I'll always remember.
The further we went up the mountains, the more snow on the ground, naturally. The road went back and forth, back and forth climbing the mountain. We reached the first stone wall looking over the towns below and he pulled off to the side. "I have to pee."
"Me too" I admitted.
We look at each other for a second.
"Can we pee off the side of the mountain?" He asked with a big smile.
"Can we please?!" I asked excitedly.
We hopped out of the car. "Look," I said, and pointed to a few Semi trucks coming up the mountain.
"Guess we better hurry before they come up."
He ran to a rock, stood on top of it.
I ran to a rock with a bush shield. Stood on top of it.
"MY TERRITORY!" He screamed.
I pissed myself laughing.
I mean not myself. But it was easier to pee. Ehh? EHHH? SEE WHAT I DID THERE?!?!
Whatever. On with it.
By the time I was finishing up air-drying, the semi was coming up the way.
We laughed and ran back to the car, marveling at all the little light clusters.
"I think that's Lovell!"
"That's Powell for sure."
Waited for a truck to drive by, then we were off again. Up further into the mountains.
After a rush like that, we usually always put on the Sounds or Monarchy or some other band that gets us pumped for dashboard dancing and impromptu kareoke.
Along the way we stopped at some rest stops, trying to marvel at some of the waterfalls in the moonlight. Finally, we reached a plateau where there was no more going up, but occasionally down. All of a sudden we saw the sign: SHERIDAN 70 MILES.
I looked at him. He looked at me and smiled. I looked at the clock.
"Feel like going to Sheridan?" He asked.
"Eh, we've come this far, let's go."
On we drove. I didn't take caffeine pills like the popper in the driver's seat, so I dozed in and out, feeling the loud hum of the car, listening to Eric Hassle.
We watched the sun rise, smelled the crisp air time and time again as he rolled down his window for a cigarette. Saw the glistening of the dewy grasses patched with globs of untouched snow.
Then we saw it, winding down the side of the mountain, the widely spread town of Sheridan. We explored all over that town. Looking at the residential areas, admiring the old-style houses, each with their own character and clearly well kept by all that inhabited them. We even came to a road that had wild turkeys blocking it.
"Your turket call!! DO YOUR TURKEY CALL!!" Queer told me excitedly.
You see. On a roadtrip with my family to Mississippi years back, my older brother's gal at the time taught me this wonderfully accurate sound. It has been most helpful to me.
I let out my gobble at the turkeys. One of the guys lifted his ass feathers.
"Go get him! MATE WITH HIM!" Queer screamed at me.
I just stared for a moment and with us both laughing hysterically, I called to the turkeys again. We drove slowly toward them, but they ran like a bunch of freaks away from the car and into an alley way we couldn't get to.
"Want to look up haunted places? Like we did on out Spring Break trip?" He was referring to the epic 2 week road trip we had taken that previous year.
He whipped out his phone, still having the website saved from said trip. The website telling us of all the hauntings in Sheridan. We drove around the town for a bit, picked up a quick McD's breakfast, and headed to what we were most curious about in the town- the graveyard. It was a big one, on top of a hill overlooking half of the city. We saw the mark of the Masons on a lot of the head stones. Cj explained to me what it meant and talked about some of the conspiracies.
After an hour or so in the graveyard and spotting deer, and some creeper off in the distant graves, we began our journey through the town to head home.
We headed for the highway and saw another sign that caught our attentions:
SOUTH DAKOTA 180 MILES.
He looked at me and smiled. I looked at him and smiled back. "We just never stop do we?" I asked.
"This is what we do." He said. We both looked forward, turned up Midnight Sun, and kept driving.
"Feel like going to Blair's?" He asked.
I stared at my phone for a moment. 1:13am.
"Yeah, but we have to be quick. I have math in the morning." No one makes me miss my math class. No one.
"Yeah, I just want to get a quick something to eat."
We get in Bjorn- the name of his Toyota Turcel- and make our way on this five minute adventure. When riding past the parking lof of Blair's, Queer says," I'm not tired. Feel like driving to Lovell with me?" About a good forty-five minute drive.
I look at the clock in his car. "Fuck it. I'm not tired either."
I remember it was a crisp night. I always loved nights like that- not the cold, but the feeling of his super hot heater on my legs, the loudness of his little car as we trucked along on the highway, and the volume of his stereo. Not the best, but I associate that stereo with a lot of good memories. (This being one of them.) Nothing was said between us for that first forty-five minutes. Nothing usually ever is. Just enjoying the presence of each other is always enough.
We pull up to the gas station. "I'm not really hungry anymore. I've never been to the mountains past here," he says,"feel like exploring?"
I look at the time again. I look to him, smile. He turns around and heads in the direction of the mountains. I can always tell when he has something to say. He'll light up a cigarette, roll down the window a crack, and reach to turn down the music.
"You know they've seen UFOs out here. A large number of sightings."
"I believe it. With it being so open and all. No one would want to be in Wyoming except damn aliens."
We chuckled softly,"Yeah," he agreed, "Remember that one time?" And he didn't have to finish his sentence. I remember. I'll always remember.
The further we went up the mountains, the more snow on the ground, naturally. The road went back and forth, back and forth climbing the mountain. We reached the first stone wall looking over the towns below and he pulled off to the side. "I have to pee."
"Me too" I admitted.
We look at each other for a second.
"Can we pee off the side of the mountain?" He asked with a big smile.
"Can we please?!" I asked excitedly.
We hopped out of the car. "Look," I said, and pointed to a few Semi trucks coming up the mountain.
"Guess we better hurry before they come up."
He ran to a rock, stood on top of it.
I ran to a rock with a bush shield. Stood on top of it.
"MY TERRITORY!" He screamed.
I pissed myself laughing.
I mean not myself. But it was easier to pee. Ehh? EHHH? SEE WHAT I DID THERE?!?!
Whatever. On with it.
By the time I was finishing up air-drying, the semi was coming up the way.
We laughed and ran back to the car, marveling at all the little light clusters.
"I think that's Lovell!"
"That's Powell for sure."
Waited for a truck to drive by, then we were off again. Up further into the mountains.
After a rush like that, we usually always put on the Sounds or Monarchy or some other band that gets us pumped for dashboard dancing and impromptu kareoke.
Along the way we stopped at some rest stops, trying to marvel at some of the waterfalls in the moonlight. Finally, we reached a plateau where there was no more going up, but occasionally down. All of a sudden we saw the sign: SHERIDAN 70 MILES.
I looked at him. He looked at me and smiled. I looked at the clock.
"Feel like going to Sheridan?" He asked.
"Eh, we've come this far, let's go."
On we drove. I didn't take caffeine pills like the popper in the driver's seat, so I dozed in and out, feeling the loud hum of the car, listening to Eric Hassle.
We watched the sun rise, smelled the crisp air time and time again as he rolled down his window for a cigarette. Saw the glistening of the dewy grasses patched with globs of untouched snow.
Then we saw it, winding down the side of the mountain, the widely spread town of Sheridan. We explored all over that town. Looking at the residential areas, admiring the old-style houses, each with their own character and clearly well kept by all that inhabited them. We even came to a road that had wild turkeys blocking it.
"Your turket call!! DO YOUR TURKEY CALL!!" Queer told me excitedly.
You see. On a roadtrip with my family to Mississippi years back, my older brother's gal at the time taught me this wonderfully accurate sound. It has been most helpful to me.
I let out my gobble at the turkeys. One of the guys lifted his ass feathers.
"Go get him! MATE WITH HIM!" Queer screamed at me.
I just stared for a moment and with us both laughing hysterically, I called to the turkeys again. We drove slowly toward them, but they ran like a bunch of freaks away from the car and into an alley way we couldn't get to.
"Want to look up haunted places? Like we did on out Spring Break trip?" He was referring to the epic 2 week road trip we had taken that previous year.
He whipped out his phone, still having the website saved from said trip. The website telling us of all the hauntings in Sheridan. We drove around the town for a bit, picked up a quick McD's breakfast, and headed to what we were most curious about in the town- the graveyard. It was a big one, on top of a hill overlooking half of the city. We saw the mark of the Masons on a lot of the head stones. Cj explained to me what it meant and talked about some of the conspiracies.
After an hour or so in the graveyard and spotting deer, and some creeper off in the distant graves, we began our journey through the town to head home.
We headed for the highway and saw another sign that caught our attentions:
SOUTH DAKOTA 180 MILES.
He looked at me and smiled. I looked at him and smiled back. "We just never stop do we?" I asked.
"This is what we do." He said. We both looked forward, turned up Midnight Sun, and kept driving.
No comments:
Post a Comment