It was my idea, after the kitten rescue and the leaving again, to show David Foster Flat Road, a gravel road leading west from the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, almost chiefly because of its monotony. Get over the ridge, see, I urged, and you can see forever and forever of the same.

I had driven several miles down Foster Flat Road a couple of years ago, when I was in the area alone. I finally lost my nerve because of the nothingness and the sharpness of the rocks, which led me to worry about getting a flat tire.

David drove in and within a mile we had a flat tire.

This evolved into limping into Burns, Ore., on our doughnut, finding a Les Schwab* and hanging out in Burns for the day while they shipped us our tires from Ontario, Ore.