We left Seattle shortly after Michael returned.
We were hauling over two days to Salt Lake City, breaking up nights at a Flying J.
The first day Michael drove several hours without help.
The second day he asked if I might be willing to drive.
I have never driven the bus and I have never wished to drive it.
It's one of those things I could go my whole life without doing.
But Michael was so tired and this particular road seemed pretty tame.
So... I offered to do it.
He pulled over.
I hyperventilated.
And I slid into the driver's seat.
I got a crash course on the control panel in the dash.
Michael slumped down onto the couch. Maeryn wanted to snuggle.
I tried not to scream out loud... too much.
I drove about 45 minutes.
That was enough.
No one died.
This is winning.
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