We covered the fifty miles to Checkpoint #2, A bull statue at the Mr. Happy Burger in Logansport Indiana, in just over an hour. Rachael had missed at least one of the turns out of the right, left, left coming into town and we got crossed up for a few blocks until we saw other Drag Weekers and just followed them. I pulled up relatively close so I could get a decent picture in the dark, but Rachael parked back further. She was walking towards me, the two or three other Drag weekers, and a crowd of 15 or so locals when I made a joke about her getting us lost.
She was instantly belligerent and yelled, "If these podunk little towns would take care of their street signs, I wouldn't have to drive around like an idiot! One of those poles didn't even have anything on top of it!"
I was as furious with her in a flash as I was last year, and I promised myself that wouldn't happen again. I spun on my heels, marched directly at her, and grabbed the back of her arm as I met her.
"Come with me...right now", I blurted out.
"Hey...that hurts!"
"I'm sure it does", I relaxed my grip as she turned and followed me across the street, out of earshot from the crowd.
"Some of those people in that crowd probably grew up here, and are proud to call this place home. They take time out of their day to come here and greet the Drag Week cars, and the first words out of your mouth is to denigrate their home? Does that represent the Spirit of Drag Week? Does that represent this sport, your home, your family?"
"No, I...no it doesn't", She looked away, then looked at the ground.
"Then get over there, play nice, and be your normal, jovial self...and get your pictures so we can get back on the road!"
The directions for leaving Logansport had a left-right-left-right sequence as well, but Rachael showed me an alternate route on her phone that was a mile or two longer but would only require one turn.
"Sure, we can do that if you like", I agreed.
We hadn't driven a mile when my phone rang, I dug it out and it was Pops.
"Yeah Dad, what's up."
"Listen. Rachael is driving off-route, and she won't listen to me. The Motor-home that's been driving the whole route is following us, and she is going to get us disqualified!"
"OK Dad! Tell her to pull over on the shoulder immediately, and I'll take care of it!"
"Alright Son, I'll tell her!"
"Great, my Dad is calling me on the phone to tattle on my Daughter! Which one do I put in time out? Do I need to separate them? I've truly entered the Twilight Zone", I thought to myself.
The Motor-home drove around them, and I pulled in behind them, got out and approached the passenger's side. Dad held up the route sheet and was pointing at it as soon as I walked up to his window.
"Don't worry about the Cruise America Coach Dad, that's just a bunch of Swedes that wanted to follow along."
"Ok, but we're still off route..."
"I understand that, but only for three miles", I pointed at his sheet for emphasis, "then we will come out on this line where it says Indiana 29".
"So we'll be good on the route from there?" Dad confirmed with his finger.
"Yeah, but let me go get the confirmation sheet for the motel, that way we can just drive to it when we get close", I smiled at him and patted his shoulder, "For the first time in the history of Drag Week, I finally got one that's on the route, before we arrive at the track!"
After I gave them the motel information and got back in the Valiant, I finally exhaled. Rachael had remained completely quiet during the entire exchange, and hadn't made eye contact with either of us. I didn't think she had that kind of self-control, but I was thankful for it; then again she might have been planning our deaths!

We rolled up to the Baymont Inn and Suites in Indianapolis a little after midnight, and Rachael was snoring in bed thirty minutes later. She had pretty much carried her bag to the room, showered, and crawled between the sheets, without muttering more than five words. I was beginning to suspect that her actions and mood of the entire evening was based on nothing else other than pure exhaustion!