This is my first truck, which I somehow named “Ol’ Boy.”

In the late summer/early fall of 1996, Ol’ Boy and I drove from Virginia to The Grand Canyon. Along the way, we stopped for several nights in Santa Fe, NM and the surrounding vicinity.

This photo was taken at a campground near Lake Abiquiu. I stayed there with a girl I had met in Tucumcari, several hundred miles east of Santa Fe. We had coincidentally run into one-another again in downtown Santa Fe. We had lunch. Then we camped at Lake Abiquiu together.

It all seems rather hippie, I’m sure. But I assure you, everything was on the up-and-up. There was no…um, romance involved. I was a perfect gentleman, as I was apt to be, then.

But we were the only two at that campground that night, basically in the middle of nowhere. Which is incredibly strange to me now. If it weren’t for a few pictures, I almost wouldn’t believe it.

I must have seemed quite trustworthy, because while at the Grand Canyon several hundred miles later a German guy asked me for a ride to Vegas.

I’d like to find Laura and that German guy again and reminisce with them about solo highway travel, and why so many of the stories I tell from that trip sound like they’re set-ups for a horror film where somebody gets hacked up.

Oh, and the reason I’m posting a photo of Ol’ Boy is that according to the Twitterverse, somebody went and made a movie about him.