Twenty-five minutes later, I was rolling through Parsons Kansas when I happened to look left and saw a bright red fox body Mustang with a trailer attached sitting in a grocery store parking lot with several guys working on it. There was a pickup shining it's lights on the situation, so I figured they had plenty of help, waved, and kept rolling. It was the first Drag Week vehicle I had seen on this trip since I left Dale's place. I stopped at the edge of town for gas, figuring I was 115 or so miles into the trip, and the Mustang growled by as I was pumping gas. Fifteen minutes further up the road, I noticed four way flashers on the right shoulder, sure enough, the Mustang again. I slowed as I pulled up on them, but they gave me the thumbs up and waved, so I continued.
Another 30 minutes down US59 North, and I was starting to feel the night close in on me, I had downed two sodas in the last fifteen miles trying to keep myself alert. I was driving towards a small hole in the wall town, and considered pulling over to rest when I saw the typical road sign with "welcome to Moran Kansas" on it, but at the bottom, hastily scrawled in red paint it said, "where stoker Big Block Fords come to die!" I got a shiver down my spine, in a "High Plains Drifter" sort of way, and decided to ease my way through town only looking at the dotted white line in the center of the road to guide me through. I dismissed it as a fatigued mind playing tricks on me until I talked to James (BBR,Moparts) the next day and he told me he had blown up the MudStang on the drive.
"Where did that happen?"
"Some little wide spot in the road called Mor.."
"Don't tell me anything else James", I plugged my ears, "I don't want to know!"