Loosed across the desert floor as a stone loosed from the hand of God himself, skipping across the surface of the otherworldly terrain though we were bright yellow flat-edged stone. The Camaro quietly ZRINGs underneath my right foot as we gently accelerate toward the next gear. We may as well be on a paved Martian road for as desolate the horizon, not another living soul in sight. For the better part of an hour, things remain as such. The world seems stagnant and immobile, stopped, frozen, yet we move rapidly through it. Making haste so as to not be stuck out here in this stuck world. The scenery is beautiful, yes, but I’d rather not become part of it. Clutch-in, select 5th, clutch-out, hammer down.