We flew for what seemed an awfully long time. It was getting dark, and I held on to that road, but the town of Cynthiana, Kentucky, and the lake at Williamstown didn't show up on schedule. More time, another cigarette and a check of the magnetic compass with the light from my Zippo (of course I didn't have a flashlight). Hmmm, 320 degrees seemed to be left of what we should be holding, but who knew how accurate that compass was, or maybe the road curved northwest here. Two or three cigarettes later I realized the "highway" was getting narrower and, whatever it was, it wasn't I-75. Relax … we're somewhere north of Lexington — probably northeast — so if we fly due west, we'll surely find the big interstate going north.