Three miles down US-40 was a large, well lit concrete parking lot oasis in front of Becks Hybrids, a big seed company. Since the parking lot was unused at 1:30 AM, we took up residence with our four Mopars. Almost immediately upon parking, Boone and Billy grabbed a Harbor Freight moving blanket and spread it out on the pristine concrete behind the Duster. While Billy made himself comfortable on the blanket with his pillow, Boone helped Dale remove the hood from the Gremlin.
"We could hang out here, maybe take a nap like we did at that checkpoint in 2014."
I was clearly directing the suggestion at Dale, but he took a moment to respond as he bent over the fender of the Gremlin and checked the oil on the ailing big block.
"I'm with Dave", Boone added, "It wouldn't hurt to get in a little rest, and it's nice out here right now!"
Dale raised up and shook his head slowly, "Guys...it can't be that much further and I'd rather push on and get to the motel!"
Boone and I consulted the route sheet as Rachael was handing out cold drinks and snacks to everyone. The fact that she was trying to get us loaded up on caffeine and sugar showed me which way she was going to vote.
"Looks like 41 miles left to go", Boone informed everyone.
"We can make that in less than an hour", Dale asserted, as he emptied his fuel jug into the five gallon cell.
"No", I shook my head, "Boone, Dad, and I can make it, but you will be in the ditch in ten miles!"
He took a long swig from the Dr. Pepper Rachael had handed him, and motioned towards her for another one.
"I can make it...honest, let's give it a try, and just pull over again if I get too bad!"
Boone just shrugged when I looked at him for a suggestion, so I agreed that we would keep rolling. I was reminded of losing a front tire with twenty-two miles to go last year and hoped that our luck would even out.