Five miles up I-74 West, Skippy called me to complain that the Belvedere was already at 220. I told him to have Rachael back off my bumper a couple of hundred feet to allow more fresh air through the radiator, and to tape over the gauge!
"Don't call me on this again, unless the thing is whistling like a tea pot and spitting water out on the windshield", I explained to him.
Fifteen miles later we jumped off on IL-136, and spent the next fifteen miles on a picturesque little two lane bracketed on both sides by farm houses and mature corn fields. Twenty miles in, Skippy was already done!