Hitchhiker maybe escaped prisoner....really?

            Leaving the sweet, secluded womyn’s land in south western Missouri, I’m still stressing running on diesel. I realize I won’t find a veggie oil mechanic most likely until I reach either Dallas or Austin. I’m contacting all my old wvo contacts – everyone is either denying they know about veg oil or not responding to my emails. The normally trusty Craigslist has resulted in zero leads plus my facebook friends are not finding anyone in their networks.

            Driving out the 3 or so miles dirt and gravel roads, I decide maybe I should soak the filter I cleaned a couple of days ago. It looked clean but maybe there’s a film I can’t see that’s blocking the fuel.

            A few vehicles drive past me with my cab tilted over and I don’t know if I’m relieved or pissed that no one has stopped and offered their assistance – or at least asked if I needed help. So much for friendly country folks.

            I leave the dirt roads and get on 54 across that lower corner of Missouri driving thru a mass of sickening gun billboards with huge replicas of military-grade ugly weapons announcing cheap automatic rifles and blazing gun shows.

            I don’t feel I should stop and change my other filter.

            So off toward Dallas I go. I’ve decided to cut south from Preston along the edge of Oklahoma and Arkansas border, avoiding the fees on the Oklahoma turnpike.

            I’m pleasantly surprised at the gentle rolling landscape with lots of greenery surrounding this little two-lane highway. The sun is bright and the temperatures mid 60’s, a relief from the freezing cold and rain of eastern Missouri – but still not warm enough to inspire my veggie oil to run.

            I see a sign saying “Entering Wyandotte Nation”. After leaving Wyandotte Nation I see a ridiculous sign saying “Warning: Hitchhike might be an escaping inmate”. Really? Like it’s fuckin easy to escape from prison here in Oklahoma? Hmmmm

            After seeing yet another sign saying “Entering Shawnee Nation” I decide to buy diesel at a casino so at least I’ll be supporting the Nation. I also find a dirt parking lot off the side of casino where lots of tractor trailers are parked. I decide this would be a safe place to park and change my filters.

            No one is around to neither bother me nor to ask if they can help. I get the filter changed, cross my fingers, and start back on the road. When the engine is hot, I switch to veggie oil and am thrilled it seems to be working.

            Right, for a mile or so, long enough to burn the fuel already in the system then the truck tries to die and I have to switch swiftly back to fuckin diesel. GRRRR

The last sign I see is “Entering Choctaw Nation” before I cross over to the interstate where I will stop at the welcome to Texas center to spend what remains of the night before heading into Dallas.