Sixty miles away, in a little farming community called Hainesville, a bright red Ford F-150 pickup truck rolled to a slow stop in the middle of a country road surrounded by flat farmland that rolled along toward the horizon for as far as the eye could see. In any direction. A checkerboard maze of flatland symmetrically laced together by wide swaths of freshly cut wheat fields. Dry country, easily apparent, as the two-mile-long dust trail the Ford kicked up while moving down the road rolled up and swallowed the red Ford completely from view. The white dust continued to move on down the road, the Ford reappearing from out of the mouth of the monster just as a second Ford pickup, this time a black one, rolled to a stop parallel to the other one. Both men waited for the second dust bowl to mov
