Gun guilt ravages my intestines all through the night. The heat inside the Avion doesn’t help. Or Wipeout’s wet nuzzle inserting itself between my chin and the toilet seat as I vomit. This is not the first night I imagined.
At least I’m prepared. Meet my portable hospital, stuffed with everything from snake bite kits to antibiotics. All it needs is a cure for traveler’s paranoia.
Follow this bonus-material blog and ride along on a one-year road trip that inspired the memoir The Drive: Searching for Lost Memories on the Pan American Highway. On sale now. Get yours through the buy-the-book links at the bottom my teresabrucebooks.com website landing page or here or here. Like The Drive’s Facebook page and tweet back at me @writerteresa.