No Rest for the Wicked
May 22nd 2009 When I saw the sign marked “Rest Stop”, I pulled over. North-central Oregon was starting to look like west Texas, and my mind was starting to wander. The signs kept promising “Port” this and “River” that, but I hadn’t seen any water so far. Besides, that ham wouldn’t last much longer unrefrigerated, and I was hungry. I hopped onto a picnic table, made myself a sandwich with a n
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