Wagoneer
By Ben Moser | October 10Don Perkins, squinting against the evening sun, looked long and hard into the rearview mirror of his 1980 Jeep Wagoneer. Ahead of him, it was all idyllic sunsets and fresh breezes, but just a few miles behind were dark skies and a clear rain curtain. He knew he should have checked the weather before leaving his hotel. The flat plains of Kansas were no place to be during a storm. There was little risk of a twister, he knew, it wasn’t the season. The summer months had passed, and it was late into October. He’d have liked to have spent the day taking in the trees in all their autumn splendor, but unfortunately he found himself in the middle of a long journey through a land where trees seemed hard to come by.
