It was when the clock struck 2 a.m. that we realized this trip would be different from the last. We were in Richmond, Va., the same city from which we had launched our first Whizzbang Adventure, and we could not find a hotel room for love or money.
Had we been pulled over by the cops, our situation would have appeared ludicrous. Here we sat, in our gimcrack Hawaiian shirts, driving all 720 horses of a Ford F-150 Raptor R, rolling aimlessly around the back roads of Virginia. We could already imagine the conversation with the trooper:







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