load the car up and head north, only stop holding hands to change gears, stop at the gas station to pick up chips and candy and a new lighter, slam on the breaks every time you see a hawk or a vulture, go slow on the logging roads, skip to the songs they like and stay there, don't forget the irish coffee in the thermos under the driver's seat, perch on top of the world and watch the blanket of fog snarl and smother the lower valleys, let the clouds of your breath mingle, let them hold on to you.

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