"Why would there be a parking lot if there were nothing to see? People who drive sedans don't go up a dirt road for nothing."

Death sat self-consciously behind them all, its bloodthirsty depths and time-stained teeth awkwardly out of place among the picnic tables, r

There was something creepy about being so close to something so big.

"Oh look! A cairn." Mom veered toward a little stack of rocks. I sniffed the pile. "Hello, Karen. My name is Oscar."

"Heights... I can't... I'm too scared to get close enough to take a good picture," she admitted. "I was kind of hoping you'd do it for me."

The monster halted and let out a screech like a carrion bird. Then it backed up for a closer look.

"Oh well. I suppose you've learned your lesson. Please move out of the way so we can go."

A dog on a road trip goes for a trail run on BLM land and discovers they're in a hunting ground.

The car-house picked up speed as it rolled toward the blinding whiteness. As we zoomed in, the grid lines on the ground began to show.

Even the raindrops were prickly, as if it were raining wasps. Beside the trail, the bristle bushes bloomed with food wrappers and underpants

"Imagine that! A truck stop! Who does she think she’s talking to?" Mom pulled the seat leash across her chest like a diva cape.

"Sheesh, there's absolutely nothing here," Mom narrated. "There have got to be trails around here somewhere."

Mom splashed out of the bushes and opened the door. I took a flying leap inside and shook the wet from my fur into the blanket. Mom humphed

Mystery drew me forward until the rocks spread in a wide circle. I followed the rocks' instructions and stopped in the center of the henge.

The trail turned shiny as a mirror and the river turned to stucco as we ran. I squinted to keep the rain out of my eyes as the world outside

This looks more... residential. Like the sort of place where people live when they aren't allowed within a thousand feet of a school or play

The leash may have been gone, but the bond we'd built over so many thousands of miles could never be unhitched. When Mom let me off the lea

The little cove wasn’t a bad place to be shipwrecked. The cliffs shielded the beach from view so passing ship would never see you burying yo

"Seriously, what's gotten into you?" Mom asked as we walked back to the kitchen end of the car-house. "I'm calling this whole trip off if yo

With all the trip's mysteries already solved, Mom might follow her wandering mind and get stuck in its darkest corners like a Roomba until t