I was picking away at a plate of chicken curry in a small Whitehorse restaurant while the midnight sun was barely setting outside our window, and this excerpt from On The Road was ringing loud in the back of my head. I’m not sure if Gully, or Harookz, or Judd, or Parker, or anyone else in attendance realized who was with us that evening. But I felt like it really was the spirit of the west sitting right there, just across the table from me. Read More