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6:07 p.m. - July 25, 2009
Montana, yes, Montana
One moment of letting go, just pure joy and excitement and exhilaration, came when I was driving back towards Missoula and crested a steep hill at 95 miles an hour, and took my hands off the steering wheel all the way down and dared chance and fate to step in. They didn't, of course, but the immense pleasure of the moment is a rare one I'll carefully store away.

Every man should rent a Mustang convertible in July and drive it in a state where speed limits are (apparently) rarely enforced, shouting in pleasure and singing off-key to 80s hits, with the sun setting so you're driving half in shadow, half in sun, the wind whipping your hair and swirling your laughter all around you.

A magical moment.

And thus my trip to Montana came to a close on a high note.


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