[Engine off, dead silence, wind] Somewhere along the way I dozed off. Don't remember when, where, how. Woke up in bed. Next to my wife. Truck parked in what I thought was rest area. Looked out passenger side window. Nothing but sheer drop. One tire from going over. Don't remember how I got there. Don't remember setting brakes. Don't remember getting out of bed. Only lone vehicle there I could see. Wife says we made it. We're okay. I reach in my shirt pocket. That extra charm that grandmother gave us for good luck. It's warm. We weren't alone on that road. Something was watching. Something on that running board. Coyote head in the road, eyes in my window. Maybe Route 66 don't forget who helps its people. Maybe that charm did what it was supposed to do. Older truckers told me strange things out there on 66, I never thought I'd be part of story. Now I tell you — if you get tired on that stretch between Bitter Springs and Holbrook, past Winslow where the road gets lonely... You pull over. You don't be hard-core. You pull over. Because next time, that sheer drop might not be a rest area. And that charm might not be in your pocket. [CB static fades to wind]
