You're On A Two-Lane Highway

Montana was fabulous.  Big sky, rolling hills, cows wandering across the two lane highway.  Well, maybe not so much the cows.  The little car didn't come with air so the windows were down to give some much needed relief from the sun.  My right arm, propped on the open window, glowed in its rays.  I realized it was quickly turning from farmer tan to flamingo pink but it felt so good I just couldn't bring it back into the shade.

Truth be told, I had no idea where I was going and that felt wonderful.  After months of studying and listening and assessing,  I needed some heedless wandering to open up my horizons again.  I needed open windows, snarled hair, and one bright pink arm.  I was going with my boyfriend to visit his cousins who lived somewhere in Montana.  I really couldn't tell you if we were heading to Missoula or Billings.  I was merely along for the ride.  The radio reception had ended about the time we pulled over at the Jerky Shack for a much needed bathroom break and a splurge on buffalo jerky.  It tasted awful so we decided to give it to the dog who was, quite possibly, having as much fun with the open window as I was.  Head out, tongue lolling, trying to catch every scent that tickled his nose, Zambi was in dog heaven.  I had only two complaints.  First, for reasons I could not explain, Zambi had developed a fanatical hatred of cows.  Being a city dog, I don't think he had ever seen one before this trip.  But the first time we zipped around a bend in the highway only to slam on the breaks to miss the herd of slow moving bovine, he started barking like his life depended on it.  After that, every time the wind delivered a whiff of sour cow dung, he would start growling and the ruff of his neck would rise.

But even worse than the barking?  The sneezes.  Huffing all that Montana air seemed to overload Zam's nose and after a while he'd let out a horrific sneeze.  It would rock his head head back and the whipping wind would blow dog snot all over the side of my cheek and pepper my tangled hair.  But the thought of rolling up the window and depriving us of the sun and the smells and the zip of the wind never crossed on my.

"Good boy Zam," I muttered as we passed a herd of placid cows who watched us with a disinterested gaze.  Zac crested a hill and we turned..... south? West?  I smiled and closed my eyes, feeling the sun fall onto my lap, content to let myself be taken away down this two-lane road.