Rolling bushes, rolling basses; guitars like a sandstorm and a thunder-like drum. Tequila is the only drink that can swep away that dirt. That goddamn sun is burning onto the roof of the mustang 72'. The lips are dry and the smell of gazoline got stuck in the nose. We're on our way to the mountains. It's cooler there they say. Gasguzzler sit's behind the wheel since they passed the last gas station. Hellrider drove the last 8 hours. Firefucker, who we picked up at an bordertown in mexico sleeps with a burning cigarette on the backseat. The Toenails' latest record «Kings of the Mountain» drone's out of the speakers. It's the perfect soundtrack for a trip like this one. Gasguzzler put's his sunglasses on and is proud. This soundtrack is his own. 'Therewith we're on the right way' he thinks and steps on the gas.