Pictured Above: The Boy, keeping an excessively safe following distance behind me on the I-80 West somewhere in NV, 2009
The trip back to the edge of the Western world was a resounding success. No auto accidents, no speeding tickets and no one robbed or maimed us for sport or for profit (but there's plenty of opportunity for this last one in Oakland). Though I was too busy driving the hell out of the 16' Penske truck pictured above to notice anything except my quickening pulse, K reports that plastic bottles and jugs of urine littered the shoulders of I-80 from IA to, well, as luck would have it, our front lawn (long story; did I mention we live in Oakland?). A quick Google search revealed that these 'pee bombs' were not driving-induced phantasmagorias, but evidence of a particularly vulgar practice favored by long-haul truckers.
Perhaps sitting in the presence of one's own urine is more macabre than it sounds?