Whenever you are heading west across the Plains states, there comes a moment when you sense, not even feel, the earth begin to rise beneath your wheels. There is no explaining the moment or the emotion but a traveler begins to become hopeful.

"There was never a moment I was not excited, and even in the aloneness of a sleeping bag on an empty beach or behind a boulder in a remote rest area, I was often too energized to even close my eyes."

Is there a list somewhere of things I am not supposed to say?” “Don’t try to be funny your first day on the job.” “When can I try to be funny?” “Not on our air.” “I suppose you’re right. Humor never works anywhere, does it?” “Look, we are a time, temperature, and news format.” “That’s a format?”

We were stopped by soldiers with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. They came up with a plastic bucket and were taking donations to support a political candidate. Not contributing seemed like a bad option when the soliciting party was armed. $10 got us on our way into the mountains.

“You need a tape. Nobody will hire you without a tape.” The DJ struck me as a leather-sandaled beer keg in a tie-dyed tee shirt, but he had a voice that suggested death coming round a curve...