The Unknown: The Red Line.
  Vollman ended up following us about two hundred miles, too. I don’t know why that guy had it in for us. We were riding, for the Arizona leg of the tour, with the Angels, riding on the backs of wide Harley Davidsons clinging to the backs of gigantic men with tattoos and smelly denim jackets. They trashed the bookstore in Tempe, until Dirk calmed them down with a very inspirational reading of Four Women by Maya Angelou. Vollman was riding a bike. We never saw him in any other vehicle and we wondered how he could go so far. Not that we weren’t stopping for the occassional beer. But still.  

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