The only reason I stopped at that particular gas station was because they had a giant, brightly painted wooden sculpture of a squirrel (or maybe it was a groundhog) all dressed up in backpacking gear, out front.  You could see it from the highway.  My usual instinct when I need gas is to keep driving and fill up later, playing chicken with an empty gas tank. Continue reading Bye Bye Bison: A Hateful Story