Four hundred and seventy horses
Straining at the bit
18 wheels spinning like tops
We power through the night
This is my first trip
Feeling relaxed at 65 MPH
Andres feigns relaxation
Mentoring from the passenger seat
A crunched gear here and there
We survived a blind backing
Now Interstate 20 to Georgia
You keep your lane good
Andres was impressed early
Six weeks later it was still
My only compliment
By Van Horn he slept
An uneasy night was ahead
Veer onto the ripple strip
Hit a rough road surface
A head would pop through
The curtain asking are you alright
Then back to sleep
Bouncing up the highway
10 hours later I tired
Andres took over
I jump into his bunk
Bloody plastic on the mattress
No bedding just plastic
Not ideal conditions
I had my sleeping bag
Sadly I may have outgrown it
Like sleeping in a straight jacket
Bouncing all over the place
Sleep was not my friend
What a stupid bloody idea
I must have slept
Because I woke up
Six weeks I craved weekends
Two or three beautiful nights
In non moving motel beds
Covered in sheets and blankets
We saw Florida Georgia
Memphis Nashville and more
A near miss in Atlanta
Had us discussing the skills
Used when driving in rain
Our hearts beat like hell
We became friends
Laughing at each other
Not liking each other
Visiting Subway twice a day
Between it all I learnt to drive
Thanks MARQ1
