The winding road again, my best friend and I, after a frigid morning wandering snow-crested mountains and kaleidoscope forests. Vermillion and marigold swirl around lumber trucks that pass us. Biting air batters our skin in this midwestern town square, and we duck into the warm kitsch of a cowboy bar.
Share this post
Day-Drunk at a Cowboy Bar
Share this post
The winding road again, my best friend and I, after a frigid morning wandering snow-crested mountains and kaleidoscope forests. Vermillion and marigold swirl around lumber trucks that pass us. Biting air batters our skin in this midwestern town square, and we duck into the warm kitsch of a cowboy bar.