The World's Most Dangerous Road (cont)

Jason and Tim had been backpacking partners for years. They met at a small cafeteria in Greece. Jason had a system for ordering food in foreign countries. It almost always worked flawlessly. He would open the menu up to the third page and order the fourth item down. Not only was it a way to get around the language barrier but it was also a way he could experience different aspects of cultural cuisine. Jason left it up to fate and fate always delivered something delicious.

On this occasion fate had chosen amelitita. The waitress cracked a smile at his selection.

“Dude, you just ordered lamb testicles,” an American from behind him said. Jason turned to see a short blonde teenager, probably his same age, with a backpack resting against the table. Jason had placed his on a chair.

“Are they any good?”

“If you like sautéed rubber. Here, I suggest getting the stiffado.”

“What’s that? A donkey dick?”

“No no. Far from it. Stiffado is a rabbit stewed in red wine and onions. Very tender and very filling. A wise choice to keep that backpack satisfied and in motion.”

“Thanks a lot. I can’t imagine what I’d do if lamb nut got lodged in my throat.”

“I’d probably Heimlich it out of you, look I’m certified.” Tim pulled out his first aid card and showed it to Jason. Jason read it carefully.

“So, you’re from Orange County? Tim is it?”

“That’s the name and yes, I’m from the OC.”

“Me too.”

“No way. I’ve never met any Californians on my trips. I figured they’re all hung up surfing the breakers.”

“Well, you’ve just met one. Are you here alone?’

“Yes. I always travel alone. Not by choice, but, like I said, Californians are riding waves, not the continental divide.”