Finally, I motioned for Rachael to join me outside the tent, and had her look up and call all the hospitals in the Bowling Green area to see if Steve was a patient. Once we came up empty on that search, Rachael got with Tonya Turk and Donna Smith and explained the situation. They gave her all the contact numbers they had for both Steve and Ken from their registration files, once again no luck.

The awards presentation ended, everyone said their goodbyes to old friends and new friends alike, and a procession of trucks and trailers began to file out of the facility. Once again we were nearly last, huddled in a group near our rigs trying to formulate an exit strategy.
I told everyone that I didn't feel comfortable about leaving without a resolution to the Bowyer family's problem, that I felt guilty somehow that I didn't take a more assertive approach earlier. They talked me through the events and assured me I had handled it as best I could.
The framework of our plan was Dad, Boone and Darren would take the Kodiak and the 48' trailer and head to Memphis to pick up the Charger. Dale and James would take the 1 ton and the open trailer and go to St. Louis to pick up the Gremlin, while Rachael and I would head to Oklahoma, and see the rest of them before we made our way towards Phoenix. The part that I couldn't get an answer to was if we were going to stay at a motel in Bowling Green and leave Saturday morning, or if we were just going to drive as far as we could tonight and sleep in our respective rigs. I had handled all the motels up to this point, and now everyone seemed to be sitting on their hands unable to make a decision. To compound that, Darryl was waiting as well, he planned to drive Friday night, and would prefer company unless we decided to get a motel, and he would go on by himself. All the adrenaline of the adventure was burned off, and I was left with anxiety, frustration, and weariness from a long day and week. At that moment I was in a profoundly dark mood, so as a truck driver, the only cure I know for that is putting miles under the tires. I told Rachael to get in the truck, and I told Darryl that I was ready to roll, and a few minutes later I was headed out of Beech Bend Raceway Park. Two minutes later my phone was blowing up, I answered Dale's call.
"We decided we are going to get a motel and hang out here until morning, you are welcome to join us."
"Nope, too late, I'm rolling".
"You need rest as bad as anybody, just follow us and I'll find a place."
"I'm putting this thing on the big road and heading to the house", I hung up, and threw the phone on the seat, it quieted down ten minutes later.

Darryl and I made it about 125 miles, found a small truck stop, backed into a spot, and called it a night. He and Rachael each took the front seats of our trucks, while I crawled in the back under my camper shell. My bladder forced me up before the other two just as dawn was breaking, I went inside, washed up, changed shirts, and felt pretty good as I went out to get them moving. My phone rang as I reached the truck.
"This is Donna from Hot Rod, is this MoparBilly?"
"Yeah, what can I do for you?"
"Steve passed away last night, and his family would like to know if your offer to help is still available?"
I felt as though I had been hit in the solar plexus with a sledge hammer, and I leaned back against the truck as all my air escaped. "I'm a, I'm a hundred miles from the track right now...but yeah, we'll figure something out...uh, my family stayed there, so I can get them to handle it."
"Ok, I've been in contact with his sister in Minnesota, can I give her your number?"
"Certainly...yeah, have her call me, and I'll get in contact with my family."
I hung up, then noticed Darryl was standing a foot from me. "Steve's gone isn't he?"
"How'd you know?" I asked.
"Was thinking about it as we drove last night, only thing that clicked. You call your brothers, I'll go grab us some breakfast."

I called Dad instead, he didn't take the news any better than I had, and told me in a quiet voice to give Steve's sister his number, and they would take care of whatever was needed.
She explained to me that the keys were still lost and that Ken was too distraught to continue the search. I gave her Dad's number, and promised we would get everything to Arizona. Once again, my only solace was the road. I met Steve for the first time at Drag Week 2006, he was in a power chair, and had no legs, the disability did not define him in any way. His love of fast street cars in general, and Mopars in particular was what moved him, the chair was just a tool.