Indianapolis has long since vanished from the rear view mirrors. Our Mobile Support Unit toils down the Kentucky highways at a factory preset top speed of ball busting 90 km/h (55 mph)

Aboard: 5 people, 2 bikes and a radio with poor reception - whaddafuck, can’t hear it anyway inside this noisy truck. Every stop, every refreshment is a gift, especially if it reminds us of that nice, frosty time we had up there in Northern Canada - like this Klondike ice-brick.

Anyway, we are beginning to see the end of our mission time window, but not the end of the mission itself. Gotta keep on rollin´, rollin´, rollin´ … .

… but then, quite coincidentally our gaze hits our truck’s dashboard…