The Algonquin Journals
Day 8

I could remember wakening to this oblivion that we are moving through. All to be seen, are the two red tail lights ahead, two head lights behind. I glance over at Mark, one hand on the steering wheel, the other, tightly clenched to a mug of coffee, eyes peered straight toward the rhythmic hypnotic broken lines, affixed to the center of the road. He has been traveling for hours, no one to talk to. The only auditory stimulation is the monotonous static that now comes from the radio speaker. I felt a relaxing feeling of limbo, sharply broken when Mark suddenly fell off to sleep. Simultaneously, as fear ran through me and a surge of adrenaline revived me, I yelled "Mark!". His head instantly bobbed up with the reassurance that he never dozed off. After reassuring him of his voyage into the dream state, I offer to relieve him of driving. He swiftly and unceremoniously agrees.

The car is now pulled to the side of the road, passenger and driver side door open, two bodies scurrying out, in a smooth transition of seats. The other three vehicles all in formation come to a stop. A question is queried to see if there is any trouble. A quick reassurance that we are switching drivers is exchanged. The other vehicles do the same. Doors are closed, the four cars now accelerate and fall into our cruising velocity.

It is now my turn to experience the feeling of sensory deprivation. Everyone in the car is asleep, except me. I reach for the radio and attempt to find a station with the AM car radio. I find nothing except static. I am now obsessed with my one and only responsibility: Stay awake, at all costs. Under no circumstances am I to fall asleep, for if I do, my four comrades and myself will sleep forever. There is salvation. as we are moving southward across the land, we are also moving through time and sunrise is near. The sky begins to turn from black, to gray, to light blue. The woods and roadside take shape and are enriched with color.

Next site is a joyous one for me. The vehicle in the lead puts on the signal light, a voice over the CB states we are stopping for breakfast. I can see the golden arches, as we pull into the McDonald's parking lot, somewhere in the northeast. Not knowing which feels better, the thought of food or the feeling of getting out of the car and stretching. An array of hotcakes, scrambled eggs, coffee, hashbrowns all served in styrofoam tantalize us.