Matagorda: Part 1
I cannot see the waves, but I can hear them--even over the off-shore breeze that pelts my truck with beach debris. In a hole I've dug in the sand, Texas…
Mountain Ramps, Drinking Games, and Burning Embers: Part 2
We're seated in a separate back room at a long shiplap table. I sip a bloody Mary and notice the old farm decor: on the wall hang horseshoes of various…
Mountain Ramps, Drinking Games, and Burning Embers: Part 1
A shallow bed of embers clings to life and the moon, like a great white finger reaches out across the lake. Ping pong balls and solo cups litter soft grass…