Beef jerky… check.
Tunes… check.
Clean socks… check.
Drivers license… check. (Law enforcement officials, please disregard all references to driving before today. I’m a writer. It was all metaphorical.)
Sunscreen… check.
Twitchy eager need for the open road… check and double-check.
Let’s Roll!
Enjoy the trip, enjoy the tunes.
Hey, if you end up in New England, I’d be happy to put you up, feed you ,and all that happiness. It’d be easier if you ended up in Massachusetts, but we’re flexibile.
Thanks! I would really like to meet you, after all you’ve done for the Hut, but New England is pretty unlikely this trip. I’m still hoping for that book tour so I can do a road trip without “mini” in the name. Alas, that book tour seems just as far away as it was two years ago.
jo jer! Feelin the road too, my man! Of course, in a much different way. One: I ain’t drivin. Two: I’m about 40 feet from the driver with about 60 people between.
finding snow by bus
journying thru three countries
to cook burritos
Ah, the song of the road…
bringing you closer to the
land of chile verde… and
the rocks
that wait
for the master stacker.
BEEF JERKY! Nothing signifies road trip to me quite like spicy Slim Jims and bags of Andy Cap Hot Fries. The combination turns your fingers a very special kind of orange that’s otherwise only found in sunsets and possibly certain deep-sea dwelling fish.
Not just beef jerky, young Jose. Buffalo and Elk jerky as well. Oh, yeeeah.