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If you have crossed the American continent in the world's most beautiful truck, you prefer not to leave it forever. You think of it from time to time--stainless, flashing like a signal mirror in the Carolinas, in California, in Wisconsin, Wyoming, Oregon, and Georgia--and you want to climb back into the cab. Exactly thirty-six months after I said goodbye to Don Ainsworth and watched his chemical tanker as it slowly pulled away from the Port of Tacoma Truck Stop ("A Fleet of One," The New Yorker, February 17 & 24, 2003), I got back into his cab. While he was making a round trip between San Diego and Dudley, Massachusetts, I connected with him in Rochester for an ...