Long Road to Farm

Driver's Ed for me took place on Park Avenue in the middle of afternoon rush hour. I learned to weave in and out, anticipate the orderly fashion that lights changed, and decipher the language of taxi honking. Living in Manhattan, there was not much need for me to drive all that frequently when a) hailing a taxi was much easier, b) finding a spot was a full-time job and I was in high school, and c) "my car" was actually my grandfather's Cadillac El Dorado.

Fast forward a few years to college and I quickly jumped at any opportunity to drive as I was still in the honeymoon phase of driving. Spring break my Senior Year was a trip to Las Vegas, Sin City. Being the cultural young adults we were, we also wanted to partake in the neighboring sights, including the Hoover Dam and Death Valley. After an exhausting day of travel, we headed back in the rental car for the long drive back to our hotel. We were all wiped, and to my delight, no one wanted to drive. Woo hoo! I get the wheel!

The road is straight and deserted. It is dark. We are the only car for miles. I drive, most everyone falls asleep. We drive for quite some time. I suddenly hear screams. Over the years, the story has changed multiple times, but apparently a bird/eagle/pteranodon flew into/onto/near the windshield. Somehow, while I WAS DRIVING, I missed this fact.

Gotta love a road so straight you can fall asleep, narrowly escape a dinosaur, and still get back to your Vegas hotel room in one piece.