I estimated that the town ahead of me was closer than the one I'd left behind, so I pressed on, praying that my fumes would carry me to Gassville. With a name like that, I figured they ought to have plenty of gas stations.
It wasn't long until I saw one. I rolled in on fumes, put more gas in my car than I thought it could hold, and got directions to the greenhouse.
On the way back, I stopped to take pictures of a dilapidated barn by the side of the highway. It shared the shade of the nearby oak trees with the cows that grazed nearby. Apparently, this old structure ran out of gas quite a while back.
Thanks to Kim Klassen for her texture, Pourvous.