The Final Voyage Chapter Two

The Final Voyage 
Chapter 2
Heading West

The old truck started bucking and losing power just shy of Wichita, Kansas. The morning sun had not looked so good to me in a long time. I pulled the old truck to the side of the road when the engine completely died. There I was with just a few dollars in my pocket and nowhere particular to go. Another smoke and a few moments to think brought me a few ideas to mull over. Morning commuters began passing by, so I stuck my thumb out and caught a ride into Wichita. My benefactor said his name was Charlie and he worked at a truck stop over on the interstate at the edge of town. We pulled into the Petro stop and Charlie offered to get me breakfast in the kitchen. His girlfriend worked there so it was free to Charlie and me. We ate some delicious eggs, bacon and biscuits. His girlfriend Nancy was the morning chef and that girl could cook a wonderful breakfast. I thanked them for their kindness and said I was going out on the lot to hitch a ride. Charlie asked what I was going to do about my truck. I reached into my pocket and tossed him the key. Out on the lot I went from truck to truck asking for a lift. The third driver asked where I was going. I replied “West.” He said he was headed into Denver and I said that would be great. Ron was his name and Ron was a victim of too many big meals in truck stops, but he was a nice guy. We rolled along listening to country music and the occasional breaker over his old CB radio. Interstate 70 through Kansas seems to go on forever without change, but Ron was a funny guy, so time passed with enjoyment as Ron spoke about his wife, his girlfriend and a crazy fishing buddy named Leroy.

We rolled into Leroy’s place just across the Colorado state line a little before dark. Leroy greeted us with a round of cold beers. We had a second round and Leroy suggested we catch a few fish for supper. I said I didn’t have a license, but Leroy assured me I didn’t need one. He went over to a little shack behind the barn and came back with a half-stick of dynamite. We walked down through a wooded area to a large approximately 10 acre pond where Leroy had his boat. Leroy lit the fuse and tossed the dynamite a few feet out into the lake. The dynamite exploded, giving us a cool, refreshing shower. Seconds later our supper floated to the surface and we gathered the fish and headed back to the house. After scraping off the scales we filleted the fish and fried up the best supper I’d had in a long time. A few more beers and we settled in for the night.

The next morning Ron was up early and ready to go. He was anxious to see his girlfriend in Denver. I would have liked a few cups of coffee, but Ron popped a top on a beer for breakfast and said, “Let’s go!” He grabbed six more on the way out the door and he fired up the big diesel in his truck. I climbed aboard and Ron wound up the truck heading down the Interstate. Ron’s excitement grew with each slug of beer and the speed of the truck kept climbing the closer we got to Denver. We were 20 miles shy of Denver when the flashing red and blue lights appeared behind us. Ron pulled over to the side of the highway and soon thereafter this tall, lean ex-Marine looking state trooper motioned Ron out of the truck. It was a dead giveaway when Ron  tripped climbing down the side of the semi and knocked the trooper to the ground with him. The trooper barked out, “I am arresting you on suspicion of driving under the influence.” Ron was handcuffed and put in the back seat of the patrol car and I was given the option of calling someone to come and get me or ride downtown with them to headquarters. Since I did not have a cell phone or anyone to call I took the ride, thinking I could hitch a ride out of Denver.