This wasn't going to be Walter's first Mexican adventure, and it certainly wouldn't be his last. This time felt different somehow… like a culmination of past adventures into a focussed mission. What that mission would be, he could only speculate. He told himself that it was all about just moving and trying to make something creative out of it, but there was something else at work here. He wondered to himself…
Why am I even doing this? I've got a nice little groove going on here right now. But that's just it… a groove. A groove can easily morph into a rut and before you know it, another year has passed in a blink. I've noticed that as long as I can keep moving and keep the images passing before me reasonably alien, I stay distracted enough not to notice the time. Or, something actually happens to the perception of time that slows it way down. Either way, I don't have to dwell on race eventually ending without having achieved some level of life satisfaction.
Walter had this idea a week ago, that if he could just get back into the zone again, he'd actually finish something spectacular this time. He had to at least try. A couple of days studying the map and weather forecasts and he'd found himself uttering the words, "One ticket to Tampico, Mexico please." The clerk, "Looks like you'll be on a nice bus all the way to the border. That is, if you get one of the blue ones." Walter, "I'm not too concerned about the Texas side. Have there been any problems in this route on the Mexican side? I just read a report about a few bodies hanging from a bridge in Tampico… just a few days ago." The clerk's eyes open a bit wider, "Yeah, I've seen that stuff on the news too. We haven't had any problems at all in that root"… as the clerk leans over to knock on some wood. The clerk, "One way or round trip?". Walter, "One way."
