My favorite food is my sister Kenya Willow's lamb couscous. Still, the fried chicken, biscuits, and pie in the truck stop go down just fine.
I feel like I'm back in the game. My moment of near-disastrous self-doubt at the Hiss-imposter's lair in Pensacola, Florida did not slow me down by more than a few minutes. Poison Oak Kitty and her cronies are on the move, and so am I.
Thankfully, the traitor among them enables me to follow, posting news of their travels in an Internet blog. I don't know all the details, but I do know where they'll be and when. I know I'm on the right track, and I know I have plenty of time to catch up to them.
When I do, I'll put my doubts to rest forever. I'll sort out who's who and what's what, whatever it takes. The Ninjas and Apaches taught me a hundred ways apiece to do that.
I pay for my food and get back on Interstate 10, headed west. I'll be riding state route 45 all the way from Mobile, Alabama to Tupelo, Mississippi. Along the way, I'll say my prayers and make my plans. Think of what I'll do if I expose the imposters; think of what I'll do if I prove they're not imposters at all.
And I pray an extra thanks for the traitor among them, who throws down the trail of bread crumbs. The traitor without whom my warpath would be lost.
God bless Knox Pittenger.