OK, first off... this is what I was pulling: Car weighs 3350 lbs, trailer weighs around 2200 lbs, and I've got 250 HP to four of the six wheels. So I'm in Boise, Idaho for some gas and food (or was that food, then gas...?) when I'm at a stop light and Ricer McRiceroni pulls up next to me in his pimped out HX coupe and starts revving. I rolled my window down and asked if he wanted to be humiliated and he said that he was going to beat me because he has a turbo and a GSR swap. Just looking at his car I knew this was BS, but I bit. I said that if that was the case, he should have no problem beating a girls car pulling a trailer. Light turns green, he has me off the line. Then the CT26 spools up and it's over. It was probably the first time in history that anyone got U-Haul flashers owning them. At the next light I tell him that the trailer weighs about as much as his car, and if he'd like, I can unhitch it and really stomp a mudhole in his ass. He flips me off and makes a right turn and is gone. Nebraska and Iowa still suck. I got so bored, I was honking at the cows and flipping them off. Fucking cows... I stopped in Kearny, NE for the night. BIG mistake. If you're ever driving through here, DO NOT STOP! Turns out that the town has a meat processing facility, and the whole town smells like death (shit, piss, blood, fear). It permeated EVERYTHING. I could smell it in the shower; I could smell it in the sheets I slept on. If it wasn't midnight when I got in, I would have kept going. Iowa... So I stop there to get some gas and behind the counter is Cornfed himself, overalls 'n all. I've heard that Iowans talk funny, so I asked him what state we were in. He kinda stares off into space for a bit, slack jawed, and then says, "Iowa." But it doesn't sound like "eye-oh-wah." It sound smore like "aaah-wuh." Then I asked him what they do for fun around there, and he kinda thinks for a minute (I use the word think loosely), then smiles, and says, "We grow corn!" I shit you not. I nod and smile and say cool, and run for the car, locking the doors, in fear of a Children of The Corn reinactment about to take place. Other than that, it was an uneventful five days. 60 MPH the whole way. I got between 14.4 MP and 22.9 MPG, which is kinda interesting because the car's window sticker says 15 City, 25 Highway. So who's gonna buy me my first East Coast rum 'n coke?