He had a rock-n-roll dream. She had a guitar and a few chords. Together they longed for something that they just couldn't find at home. The highway was the great wide open. The highway was the freedom now and the dreams fulfilled later. The highway called.

He didn't have much to take along. She left behind things that wouldn't be there when she came back. If she ever came back. In the small towns along the way, from Gallup to Barstow, to San Bernadino, the small faces didn't know where they were going, but wished they could go along for the ride.

Together they had a song. Together they wrote a story. It was all about the journey.

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