himself for the door, bounced back off the skis, made another try, got out,ran round to the driving side and began pulling pieces of burning flooring out of the car flinging them on the road and stamping on them. The smoke was thick and black and the smell of burning rubber was horrible. Mike helped Nick jump up and down on the pieces of flaming rubber and I went and got the can of water in case it would help. With most of the front flooring torn away and stamped out, the fire seemed out. The smoke cleared and the three of us gazed in. We could see right through the bottom of the car past burnt flooring and black- ened metal surrounding a large hole, under which lay the remains of the muffler, and below that, the ground. Mike and I began laughing, finally Nick grinned, and joined in. We stood around the open door of the car, laughing and feel- ing relieved that things weren't as bad as they had seemed. It was a lovely morning. The air felt sharp and clean. We were in California and we felt fine. "On," said Nick, 'through fire and flood ..." We piled in, Nick with his feet straddling the hole, pulled the starter, the Ford roared into life and we were away. We rolled through Barstow i.n fine style, heading for San Bernardino, through it into Californian hills, rounded, and showing signs of brush fires. By eleven we were on the outskirts of Los Angeles in fairly heavy traffic. We got on to the Santa Monica boulevard and headed along it looking for Greenfield Ave. Just before Midday we bumped and banged across some railroad tracks into a quiet treelined road, to pull up before a low green coloured one storey house. We had made it. Nick and I solemnly shook hands and out we all got. We crossed the stretch of Grass in front of the house, skirted the water spray guarding the front door and knocked. The place was deserted. We gazed 34