It was a warm late summer afternoon. The balmy L.A. air and the palm trees outside lent something exotic to life for a young kid form Oregon. Not even the ever-present smog could douse our spirits. We were on top of the world to quote an old cliché. Tom, Jeff, and I had been friends since middle school, now on that oft traveled road to maturity we had reached college and it was here that our roads would part but before that we decided to make our last summer together one worth remembering.
So we set out in search of memories. We headed east to the Rockies and climbed a mountain together. We came to rely on one another’s strengths. Tom, the quintessential negotiator, could talk the average innkeeper into dropping their price twenty percent. He quickly became in charge of our lodgings and general manager of finance. Jeff knew how to get anywhere in the U.S. without even looking at a map, making him navigator and primary driver. Myself, I didn’t see me as being all that important to the trips functioning, but the guys told me that without me and my charisma there would have been very little fun on the trip. I suppose they might have been right. Whenever we arrived somewhere I discovered myself looking fo
Tom quickly retorted “Meaa meaaa!”
On our way up north again Tom got the urge to visit the Grand Canyon. Jeff, ever the skeptic, whined, “who cares about a big trench?”
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