Dem Sheeps

In the summer of 1975 I drove 1200 miles to visit a high school buddy and his family that had moved to Casper WY after our graduation. They lived on the north side of Casper Mountain and at the time, the land between their back fence and the mountain was undeveloped. It was awesome. Over the next 7 days we went to the Tetons, hiked above the timberline, cruised around drinking Coors, met and got friendly with a couple of local girls and it was a real adventure for a long haired 19 year old. Then the day came to head back home. The National speed limit was 55mph. I had an early 70s Z28 that never got over 13 mpg on the highway. I had adopted a puppy from the Casper dog pound. After packing and loading the tiny trunk, me and the dog left their house at 11am mountain time planning to drive home nonstop. 55mph. 9-13mpg. By 11pm mountain/12am central I was done for. Stopped at a roadside rest stop close to Dalhart and attempted to sleep in a sleeping bag on a concrete picnic table but with the 18 wheelers roaring by combined with the whimpering whining puppy in the car this didn't work out. Back in the car and off we go. 55 mph. 13mpg. About 3am I see the gas gauge needle was on the white line next to the E. This means about 3 gallons left. I panicked. To reduce parasitic loss from the alternator I turned off the radio. A few minutes later I turned off the lights. A few seconds later I turned them back on. Bad idea. In the far distance I can see the lights of Amarillo. 13mpg. No way I'm gonna make it. Gonna be out of gas on the side of the road at 3:30 am with all my stuff in the car and a 3 month old dog. F word ! Then like an oasis in the desert I see lights ahead on the other side of the highway. It's a truck stop. I exit, cross the over pass, roll up to the pumps and shut the car off. YES!!! I fill it up till fuel runs out of the neck, lock the dog in the car and go inside. Here is the story ....... There are two guys in there. One behind the counter and a trucker on a stool at the counter. I order a coffee and make the mistake of looking at and nodding at the trucker. After getting the coffee and sitting down at at table the trucker gets up, comes over, pulls out a chair and sits down across from me. " Where you headed?" He asks San Antonio I sez. "Where you coming from?" Casper Wyoming "Ah. I used to work on a sheep ranch in Wyoming." Then he leans in towards me and in a low voice says

"you know.....dem sheeps'll get pregnant by a man don't cha?" (Pauses when I freeze up) "but they can't keep em because they miscarry."

I said, Oh, finished my coffee in one gulp and out the door I went. I used all 330 horses to get that Camaro back on the highway and was back home in S.A. by noon. I will never know if he was serious or if both of them were laughing their asses off watching my tailghts disappear into the darkness.