A dysfunctional suburban family just after Rance has lost the man who was his father. After 10 yrs of depression following tragic loss of wife; he had in effect, become the
Man upstairs that Rance had cared for and enabled since he was 15.
   Now he was going to los Angeles
He's 25 ,an aspiring writer and armed with a nice , newly aquired self contained R.v his dog stormy and a thirst for the knowledge that a 6 week drive from east Tennessee will bring .
Rance , Stormy and their best friend Macy go for a mid-week 3 day wilderness trip to work out the bugs.
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All too soon it was friday morning; approaching noon, as we sat there at our campsite. Neither of us having uttered more than twenty words since we.had finished breakfast.
  Neither of us; including my dog Stormy, was ready to re-enter that door we had exited two days earlier, but -due to the fact that nothing lasts forever-' the red light had turned to green , the second hand had once again started its ominous tick, tick, ticking and nobody can continue to sit at the stoplights forever ; avoiding the inevitable move ,whether forward , right or left into the flow of traffic.
Sooner or later someone or something will push up behind to honk the horn or gun the motor. Then the only thing to do is move or throw up a finger.  Though; at that point--with finger or no finger thrown to the approaching fates, the moment is lost-'the future looms as that clock unrelentingly shuffled on its inevitable grind.
     So we reluctantly packed up; taking us one -- long, slow, -- last look around ,as if we could actually see what it was that we were leaving behind. Then slowly and solemnly we made our way back through that door.  TICK TOCK-'TICK--TOCK -- TICK.......!