“We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the logs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit clogged; maybe you should drive...."
And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge logs of shit, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas.”