Captainkirk's Duster project

Journey's End
In the days we sweat it out on the streets of runaway American dreams//At night we drive through mansions of of glory in suicide machines
Bruce Springsteen; Born To Run
Here was the turnoff into the MHP. I down shifted to third, and then the minx whispered in my ear;
"You don't have to go back just yet..."
Well, I was thinking; the guys are waiting....
The two beers spoke up; " They drank up your beers. Let 'em wait!"
Two Beers had a point. Still....
"It's a cool September night. You worked hard today. What's your hurry?" taunted the li'l red minx.
Two Beers chimed in; "Romp on it!"
Uhh...if you insist.....
I blew by the MHP at 60 and found fourth again. Or shall I say, it found me.
A short distance ahead, Mingo narrowed from 4 lanes to two. I eased over into the left lane. A little further on down was in intersection with another 2 lane highway. I thought about hanging a Leroy (left) at the intersection, and then the minx spoke up again;
"Why don't you check out what's straight ahead?"
That was a kind of stupid question for a li'l red minx, or anybody else to be asking; what lay ahead was a two-lane gravel road that went to..... who knows where?
"No sense of adventure?" taunted Two Beers.
Shut your pie-hole. I'll go where I damn well please.
I went straight.
This tendancy was to rear it's ugly head again recently when I resumed riding street bikes. It's like mind-control; bending spoons and whatnot. You see the intersection, your conscious mind says "We turn left here, to go home" and the bike says "The hell you say!" and blows right on through and you wind up in lower North Fork, Idaho when all you were doing was going for a quick ride.
Try explaining THAT to your wife.
Anyway, it was obvious the minx was driving now, not me. Now, class, does anyone know what happens when tarmac meets gravel at 65 mph?
Two Beers spoke up from the back of the class; "Loss of traction?"
Teacher; "EXCESSIVE loss of traction"
Ever been on a Tilt-A-Whirl? Well, that's kinda like what I was feeling......frantically I countersteered the fishtailing rearend; first one way, then the other. The minx was nowhere to be found; She'd punched the "EJECT" button and I was driving again. Two Beers was uncharacteristically quiet. Bumps, jars, a large crunching sound like a pile of books dropped on concrete, and then....
Silence.