I would love to write you about our day driving almost all the way across Texas in 13 hours. I really would.

I would tell you about the scrub brush, cactus and mesas and the long, empty, boring stretches of Interstate 10.

How brown it all is. The dead wild pig on the side of the road. That the first song we heard this morning was Hotel California.

That we went by towns called Welfare. Iraan. Comfort. That we saw dirty pickup trucks with real cowboys. And vast tracts of ranch land.

I would tell you about M. driving the Beamer full-out 100 mph on what I call the Texas Autobahn and rocking out to the oldy California Sun.

(I’m sorry Patrick. I know, imprudent. Dangerous. But it was in TEXAS. I promise we won’t do that in California so the CHP won’t have to ticket us. But at least I know there are no chain gangs in California.)

I would tell you that there are hundreds of miles without any cell coverage at all. That Riley was largely good but turned into psycho dog once.

I would tell you all that, but I’m really, really tired. We are in a Holiday Inn Express in a hole-in-the-wall town called Van Horn a ways out of El Paso.

We’ll probably make it to California in 4 days.

More laters. Peace/out.