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<p><span class="lead">Paul and I agreed on a plan:</span> wake before dawn, rent a car from the airport, find ourselves a map, and just drive. We hit the sack almost immediately. By 4am we were awake, showered, fed, and out the door. By 5am, we were on the road to San Francisco.</p>
<p>I volunteered to drive the first shift, but my conservative driving quickly wore at Paul's patience.</p>
<p>In less than an hour, Paul offered to take over. Demanded, actually. I was in no mood to argue. Besides, Paul made better time than I ever would have.</p>
<p>Every 40 miles or so, Paul let go of the wheel and steered with his knees so that his hands could attend to more a pressing matter: his hash pipe.</p>
<p>The needle never dropped below 100.</p>
<p>This made me tense. But I let Paul drive and tried putting my mind elsewhere.</p>
<p><a target="_top" onmouseover="window.status='{ continue }';return true" href="06.html">My thoughts turned toward Mike</a>.</p>
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<td valign="middle" align="right"><img width="384" height="484" alt="The needle never dropped below 100mph." src="stuff/desert2.gif"></td>
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