“A well’a bless my soul, What’s wrong with me?”
Are you, at this very moment that you’ve clicked on this article to read, wondering what on Earth a Pink Cadillac and Blue Suede Shoes have to do with Adventuring around in a LTV Unity IB? Then “Come Ahead”, “Don’t ask me Why” and read on.
Neither one of us wore “Blue Suede Shoes” when we got to ride in a Pink Cadillac. In fact, we don’t even own Blue Suede Shoes. Coincidentally, all this happened after we stood on the stage at The Ryman Auditorium doing a pretty good impersonation of Elvis. “Fool” came to mind when we got caught. How little we were to know that just a short while later, all these events would be forever linked in our memories “Talk about the Good Times.”
We’d been touring about Nashville the capital of the U.S. state of Tennessee. Beautifully located on the Cumberland River, and music was everywhere. While there, one of our stops was the Grand Ole Opry House (what used to be the Union Gospel Tabernacle and is today officially named The Ryman Auditorium) but that’s probably a better story for another Read. However, in an unknown moment of foreshadowing, we did capture this on the streets of Nashville.
Visiting The Ryman had us walking about its hallowed halls, admiring photos and corresponding biographies of world famous performers. Among them, Elvis Presley.
”Did you know he performed Blue Moon of Kentucky here,” Dave asked.
“No, I don’t even know that song!” I replied, and we shared the titles and hummed a few notes, of the songs we both remembered. And that’s how we got Elvis on our mind.
In the concert hall, there was no one around and for the heck of it, (“Fools Rush In”), right? we sneaked onstage, picked up the guitar that was laying there, and just as Dave (aka “Guitar Man”) announced “It feels so right”, a staff person emerged from some hidden, backstage door! We were about to scurry off before we would have to do “The Jailhouse Rock”, when she asked us if we wanted our photo taken. Not being too camera shy, we seized the opportunity, made her laugh as we posed appropriately, and instantly got this overwhelming urge to just “Shake Rattle, and Roll.”
Elvis was a little before my time and although I wasn’t part of the fainting throngs of (female?) fans, in an era when he was taking looks, music and moves to a whole different groove, I did grow up hearing his songs on the radio, sitting in our living room with my parents and watching his movies on what was a very small TV (by today’s standards). I have always loved the sound of his voice, and one of my favourite songs has always been “In the Ghetto.” It brings a tear to my eyes every single time I hear it.
“So do you wanna go see The King?” Asked Dave.
”Hmm…” I pondered.
We were in Nashville, and we didn’t have an agenda or schedule, simply working our way Southwards and Westwards. Having our home with us when we travel makes decisions such as this easy peasy. “Welcome to My World.” We researched the timings and noted that it would take us about 4 hours to drive there.
Travelling full-time requires us to be on a different sort-of-budget, and I’m not one for paying huge amounts of dollars to see any famous person’s house? Or clothes? Or Records. Or planes?. But, I was, admittedly, a tad curious. About Memphis. About Elvis.
“My mom shared the same birth date as Elvis,” said Dave, “She always wanted to come here.” That’s as good a reason as any to go, right?
“Let’s go!” I said, excitedly, “It’s Now or Never!”
So, just like that, on the spur of the moment, we got in our trusted Unity IB and followed the signs for Memphis. A town famous for being home to “A Mess of Blues”.
We arrived at the Graceland RV Park and Campground just shortly after noon. It felt like we were smack dab in the middle of a run-down part of town, the nondescript grounds located behind a hotel, near a large parking lot. “Anyplace is Paradise” when your home is with you, right? After checking in, we followed the highlighted directions on the campground map, the roads setting the mood, as they were appropriately named: “Jailhouse Road”, “Heartbreak Lane” and “Teddy Bear Lane.” Wasn’t long before we found our lot number, backed in, and found ourselves home. “Home is where the Heart Is”, right?
A quick bite for lunch followed by a brief rest, and then we walked the path from the Campground through to the parking lot of the Graceland Visitor Center. It being mid afternoon, the place was near empty, and we were just two couples away from the counter. The kind lady informed us of the different prices of admission, and upon hearing them, we immediately got “All Shook Up.”
“C’mon Everybody,” said the Shuttle Driver, as she opened the doors so we could all board. It was a very short drive, almost directly across the street, through the wrought iron gates, up the hill, where we stopped by the white cement lions that adorned the front doorsteps of the modest looking house nestled in a grove of Oaks with rolling pastures all around.
Rather surprised that this was the King’s house, I couldn’t quite decide if it was a “Little Cabin on the Hill” or “Mansion over the Hilltop.”
We were all handed an iPad and earphones and received brief instructions on how to use the auto-guided/interactive (multilingual) software. Then they opened the front door and allowed us in.
“Do Not Disturb” was the immediate thought that came to mind. It felt, and looked like I had simply stepped back in time. The whole place was hushed and quiet. Dustless. Shiny and clean. Dated. Classically White. Or cream. Name that shade of colour, I immediately thought to myself.
And in my ear, the husky voice of John Stamos welcomed me and began to tell me a story as I swiped the area of my surroundings.
I could almost feel a presence as I entered each area. “Do you know who I am?” The voice in my ears anecdotally told me about the rooms, the who’s who in the frames, and slowly, as I entered and exited each room, the personality of a person, a King in the making, began to come to emerge.
He was in the simplicity of the furnishings in the Foyer. He was in the photo frames that decorated the coffee tables, strangers face staring back at me until John Stamos told me a bit about them.
He was in the long white sofa elegantly placed against the wall, and he was in the Music Room visible behind the vivid blue peacocks embedded in the glass walls. He was in the baby black piano just barely visible from where I stood, and I could almost hear tunes in the creating.
Totally at my own leisure, I meandered through, listening to the voice in my ears, and sometimes swiping the pause button, so I could visually inhale my surroundings.
The kitchen where the infamous PB&B sandwiches were made.
Each room we visited held a totally different look, a jig-saw house of various jaw-dropping themes.
A sort of progression of what “Fame and Fortune” could do to an emerging artist.
We were not allowed to go upstairs. “Don’t be Cruel” I told John Stamos.
The remarkable Jungle Room, with its green shag carpets, Polynesian feel and exotically carved wood required an extra bit of time to take in all the details.
Downstairs, my eyes needed to adjust to too many shades of yellow
when I found myself in a room that housed three TV sets. And a TCB logo of a lightning bolt and cloud on the wall: “Taking Care of Business”.
Outside, the back of the house was just as admirable,
and we followed the walkway to tour the office, the stables visible in the distance. The Racquetball building with its very own court, luxurious lobby, a pinball machine and a piano.
Through it all, we were witness to countless personal artifacts on display, from the cost of the house, his birth certificate, letters, photos, clothes…
And then we were “In the Garden” where Elvis was known to go and meditate.
And with the unfortunate passing of time, where he and members of his family have been laid to rest. And the one and the only place that visitors can access, for free, for a certain time, every morning. A hushed, serene place. A for “A Little Less Conversation.”
“Funny how time slips away” for the 2 hours that we spent in The King’s home, I felt that we just barely started to grasp an intimate snapshot of the man that was Elvis. He was generous. He read a lot of spiritual type books. He was the proverbial “Rags to Riches” success story. Religion was a huge part of his life, and although he was surrounded by “Loving Arms”, substance abuse destroyed him. Fame and “Heartbreak” on so many fronts.
We sat outside the house for a moment “Indescribably Blue” and breathing in the serenity of the place, and I have to admit, just a little awestruck. Humbled. A little inspired. Not to mention tired. The shuttle arrived, and we handed in the iPads as we boarded, and got driven back to the Visitor Center. We stopped in to visit his personal plane,
a state of the art Corvair 880 jet, named after his daughter, Lisa Marie. It was more roomy and regal, than any of the presidential planes we’ve toured. Leather tables, incredibly soft suede seats, and gold-laden bathroom sinks.
It was a short walk back across the parking lot into the Graceland RV Park and Campground, towards our lot and into our RV, where we sat back, put our feet up, sighed and said: “There’s No Place Like Home”.
“What’s for Dinner?” asked Dave shortly.
“I have no idea. I sure don’t want a Hot Dog, how about Crawfish?” I replied.
And that’s when we saw the little slip of paper the campground had given us when we checked in. It was a 10% discount coupon if we had dinner at Marlowe’s, and printed on there, a phone number to call if we wanted a pickup. Sounds good to us!
We had finished dressing when we heard the honk of a horn. Must be our drive, and we headed out the door. And (gasp) what do we see? A pink Cadillac!
The story tells that Elvis had bought a pink Cadillac for his mother with his first royalty check. “If that isn’t Love” I don’t know what is?
Since Elvis was reputed to have eaten here (is there somewhere he hasn’t eaten?), Marlowe’s, a BBQ restaurant a couple of miles from the campground, followed suit and bought a Cadillac Limousine. They painted it pink, and the rest, as they say, is history. Today there’s a fleet of limousines that will pick you up and drive you home (free of charge), after feasting at their establishment (remember to bring your campground 10% coupon).
We sat down at our table, perused the menu, and wasn’t long before the food arrived.
All around us, the TV’s on the walls played Elvis movies. The frames on the walls held photos of Elvis. The glass cages held his outlandish outfits. Elvis tunes played all around us. The food was delicious. And the Pink Cadillac drove us home.
“This is the Story!”
Would you believe, I wrote all this “Without A Song” playing in my head? And I’m absolutely positive I’ve planted a few earworms in yours, right?
Wait, “What’d I say?”
“Love me tender”, please, and leave me a comment. Do you have a memory about the King of Rock and Roll? What’s your favourite Elvis song?
One of the reasons we chose to buy a Leisure Travel Van was because of its compact size and manoeuvrability. We knew, or at least we hoped, that we could go everywhere with it, because, that’s what we wanted to do! Go Everywhere.
And we wondered, and agonized, all the long while that we patiently waited for its arrival, whether we needed a TOAD to go with.
For those not in the know, a TOAD stands for a Towed Vehicle. We don’t own a car to tow, and we *really* didn’t want to buy one, because, well, we bought the LTV to be our car. Funny though, while parked at the LTV Factory in Winkler, settling into our brand new UnityIB, we met a fellow LTV’er just passing by, who just happened to be selling his TOAD: a really cute little Smart Car. And on the impulse of the moment, we *almost* bought it. We talked ourselves out of it though.
So then what? We switched gears, learned ourselves some research, and pedalled ourselves towards something else. How about a motorcycle? Or a Scooter? And then there are Bicycles? Or how about those E-bikes, for those longer distances?
The list of questions, the head-scratching and pondering, the pros and cons of each went On and On. While Dave has a Motorcycle licence, I’d need to get mine. Something I was quite open to and willing to do. But motorcycling would put us on busy streets, busy-er perhaps then what we were hoping to do during our time not EnRoute. Not really the way we were leaning.
Would carrying extra weight increase our fuel consumption? And we love to hike, how would we combine another activity with that? Did we really need anything else? We were getting pretty tyred of all the questions we were asking of ourselves.
Never having RV’d before, we didn’t quite know how we would adapt to this new-to-us lifestyle. How would RV’ing Adventures play out, really? There’s the *idea* that one has, of what you imagine this lifestyle to be. And in our experience of travelling, we’ve learned that there are the *reality* of what it’ll actually be like when you’re out there, *for real*.
Being ever prudent, we gave ourselves a season of adventuring, to see how we would evolve. And especially how many times during our trip we might say something like “Gee, I wish we had… a TOAD? A motorcycle? A scooter? Bicycles?” Right?
So what did we learn during that first Season? In our travels, there wasn’t one campground we haven’t been able to get into or get out of with our Leisure Travel Van. There’s not one parking lot we haven’t been able to find a spot to park safely in. And since we tend to move around every few days to a week or so, there was *never* a time we said, “Gee, we wish we had a TOAD.”
And when we Adventured in places, we never really felt the need for a Motorcycle/Scooter, although, we both agreed, that in some instances and in some places, it certainly would have been a lot of FUN!
Then there was this one time in South Carolina where we met up with dear friends who surprised us by planning a day-long adventure. When we arrived at the parking lot we thought we were stopping for a coffee. Instead, we went next door to the bike rental shop! Boy, were we surprised. And intrigued at the Adventure that lay ahead of us.
We first had to pick a helmet. Something both of us HATE wearing.
But we got past it, and our Adventure would take us on 16 miles of the Swamp Rabbit Trail. On a perfectly paved path. On rental bikes that weren’t really all that comfortable. Or made for my small size. Or Dave’s bigger frame.
And GollyGeeWhiz, didn’t our thighs start to ache in about, oh, the first five minutes? What’s that, not even a mile? How were we going to do 16 miles? However, the scenery soon took our aches away, and what a bunch of FUN we had. Stopping whenever wherever along the way. And I didn’t even for one moment feel guilty about ordering, and thoroughly enjoying {{ without sharing }} an entire portion of dessert with lunch that day.
The next day there were admittedly just a few moans and groans as we got ourselves out of bed. Our bodies had responded to this new movement with complaints in muscles that hadn’t been used for a very long time. And Boy did our Butts ever hurt! We laughed about it. And we talked about it. And promptly realized, with growing enthusiasm, that cycling just might be *our thing.*
We discussed how bicycling would allow us to go further than hiking might permit, we would see more. We would still be able to enjoy the fresh air, the outdoors. We would be able to stop for snacks or lunches, or whenever Photo-Ops might appear. We would be getting some exercise. All important things for us.
Other than the buying of equipment, there would be no added cost, because it’s “all ass, no gas.” What a cycologist type of revelation, huh?
What followed was a bit of research to narrow down what KIND of bicycles we wanted. We knew we wanted to be able to go anywhere; from asphalt roads to bicycle paths to OffRoad trails. As we got excited at the possibilities, we knew we wanted to tackle not only quaint little village streets but trails strewn with tree roots. We wanted to gear down on the hills and tackle the leaf-strewn paths with safety and speed, and *tires only know* what else.
As we finished our Season and came back home to Halifax, we visited a few shops and gave them our list of wants and needs. Walking away from each shop had us knowing a little more about what we wanted. And what we didn’t. After battling with some of the likes and dislikes, the pros and cons, and yes, even the Customer Service we received, we finally chose to go with Giant Bicycle (Halifax) specifically the Talon 2 for Dave, and the Liv Tempt 3 for me.
And they were promptly told they were on order, and it might be a week or three. Don’t you hate buying something, and then having to wait for its arrival?
{{ sigh }}
As we *patiently* waited for time to pass, we set about to researching and ordering all the accoutrements. Bicycle helmets, panniers, spares of all kinds.
And a bicycle pump!
“Did you know Bicycle pumps seem to get more expensive every year?”
”No, I didn’t. Really?”
“Yup, it’s all that inflation”.
{{ groan }}
and of course, we needed ourselves a Hitch. We ordered, received and installed the Swagman Hitch.
Just then? As if on Cue? We got THE phone call. Our bikes had arrived. And just like that, we grew by two.
We were pretty darn excited to try them out.
And found them to be extremely comfortable. Adaptive and responsive on all terrains we tried them out on. And yes, our butts were still sore. So we upgraded our seats.
Then came the real test. We started Season Two with Bikes in Tow. We travelled. And we used them. Oh boy, how did we use them?
We found ourselves needing to Get a Grip as we sunk into the soft sand. Walking in Sand while pushing your bike? Not as easy as it looks.
Cycling past some hazards on the road?
Let’s paddle outta here, let those sleeping alligators sleep!!
And when we were in Zion? The Zion Canyon Scenic Drive shuttle that we wanted to take was full. And the lineup for the next one? Even longer. So we looked at each other, and wondered if we were up to the challenge of riding our bikes? We thought we might be, knew we could take the shuttle if we weren’t, and turns out we rode the whole thing. And it remains one of the most memorable rides we’ve ever done.
We got pretty tyred that day !!
During Season Two, we dealt with one flat tire. Thankfully it happened just as we got back from a ride: a nail punctured the tube just minutes from where our LTV was parked. While en route the next day, we Google’d ourselves a bike shop, and had it fixed in a matter of minutes.
And then there was that time that we went to disembark the bikes and found that the seat had some curious dents in it. We can only assume a very large bird decided to use the seat as an overnight perch, digging his very pointy talons into the cushy padding in an effort to get himself comfortable. What an imprint he made.
We’ve become cyclists who torque the talk!
Please understand that this article is by no means allowing us to be SPOKESpeople of either Giant Bicycle, the Talon2 or LivTempt 3, or Leisure Travel Vans. This is just our story of how we Grew by Two, and how we’re happy users of all of the above.
And appreciate your tolerance and enjoyment of all the Wheelie-Terrible Bike Puns.
Thanks for Reading, Ride OnOn!
There’s always great anticipation knowing that Today is The Day! The day that you’re taking your Six Wheels on the Road. There’s excitement in the air no matter if your plans have you leaving for the week. Or the weekend. Or perhaps you’re driving away from Winter and heading towards Summer, conveniently located Somewhere South of Somewhere.
The Journey itself has been planned in your mind for what seems like a long time and now this is it! You’re finally driving the drive, on the road of roads. It’s superb and idyllic and just like you’d imagined a totally pleasant and perfect experience. One that will leave you, at the end of the day, arriving at your destination with a smile on your face.
But is there really such a thing as The Perfect Journey? We should all anticipate hitting a few bumps as we drive the road filled with twists and turns. Some you can plan for.
But others?
Not so much. Either way, one thing’s for sure, it’ll make for a great story as you arrive at your destination, ready for arrival beers and an easy peasy scrumptious meal. A really great story, perhaps a little bit like this one:
And for the sake of all great stories, know that all characters and incidents are the product of this author’s compilation of actual events. Any resemblance to anyone out there is total… intentional. We swear it happened to friends of ours.
Imagine for a moment. You’re sitting in the driver’s seat, zooming along at just below the posted speed limit for better fuel mileage and less of a gas-guzzling ride, right? You’re heading somewhere, hoping there are no detours anywhere. But most importantly? You’re in your favourite Leisure Travel Van. Perhaps you’re Exploring with Wonder? Enjoying the Serenity? Or perhaps you’re driving a Unity IB (like us)?
It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining and the radio is tuned in. Perhaps you’re humming along. Or, if you’re tone deaf like me? You’re probably singing out loud.
All is well and good in your world and then all of sudden… Slam-Ka-Thunk !! Holy shoot you swear out loud. What just happened? What was that very loud noise? A quick pull over to the shoulder of the road, because no one ever gets up while their partner is driving (right?) Some investigative sleuthing reveals that it might’ve been the bathroom door that, because it wasn’t latched properly, slammed open when we turned that corner. Or perhaps it was the pantry door that slid open when we hit that bump.
Or how about that time you notice the draft suddenly change the otherwise perfect interior temperature of the vehicle as you’re driving along. You didn’t leave any windows open, did you? You look up and holy shoot, the fan vents are still open! Or worse, the sunroof hatch is up? Another pullover as you quickly secure all windows, vents and hatches.
And then, when you arrive? You’ve noticed that the soap dispenser that usually sits on the bathroom counter? That didn’t get put away before you left. It’s fallen to the ground and of course, it cracked, and now there’s a large sudsy mess of soap on the floor. And in the shower? The shampoo bottle with the cap that just wasn’t clicked shut? It’s laying sideways in a rather large puddle of foamy mess. And that garbage bag has fallen sideways and spilt open, and all those vegetable peels and coffee grounds? Why, they’re all over the floor. Sigh.
Sure doesn’t sound like this was the perfect journey, does it? To avoid some of those holy shoot moments, here’s our habit of a routine that we practice every single time before we leave. Except for that time that… we forgot.
Before every trip, I start at the back of the MoHo. With the bed made, I make sure the nightstands are free from wayward books (in the cupboard or under the pillow they go) and make sure the bedroom window is closed and shut tightly. I check the shower, making sure everything is stored and the caps are on tight. I take the sponge and quickly rinse the bathroom sink, wipe down the countertop, and lock the cabinet doors after I’ve put the toothbrushes away in their bins.
And always, always put the toilet seat down! And not because I am a woman! We don’t even want to discuss what a crappy mess it all could be (no pun intended!) if something fell in that you didn’t want to have fallen in. Like that toothbrush? I look up and make sure the fan vents are closed. I double check that the toilet door is firmly latched, I grab the garbage bag, put the soap dispenser in the sink and head towards the main living area.
I double check that the pull-out TV and all pantry door knobs are clicked/locked shut. I rinse the kitchen sink, emptying the drainer into the garbage. I clear the counter, ensure the fridge door is closed tight, and double check the side door to make sure it’s firmly locked. Oh, and is your outdoor step IN? And last but not least, I look up, making sure that the galley windows are closed, the fans are off and vents shut, and the sunroof is down in the locked position. I tie a firm knot in the garbage bag and I’m ready.
Dave in the meantime has done a walk around outside. Putting everything away, and making sure we don’t leave anything behind. Storage doors closed and locked, and voilà, we’re ready to go. It’s truly a simple 5-minute process and it saves many holy shoot words along the way.
As we travel on our journey of many miles, we need to stop for fuel (and drop off that bag of garbage, right?) The most frustrating problem as we’re travelling through the United States (used to) happen at the fuel pumps.
As Canadians without an American Zip Code, we were always blocked from using our credit card when paying at the pump. Directly from our credit card company to us, and now from us to you, here’s a simple way around the system.
Next time you’re faced with the “Enter Zip Code” query at the pump, enter ONLY the NUMBERS of your Canadian Postal Code, in their order. Once you’ve entered your three numbers, add two zero’s, and voilà… you’re allowed into the system. So if your Postal Code is G4G 2B6, you would enter 42600. Easy, Peasy! Fill’er Up.
And while we’re fuelling, it is inevitable that someone will come over, and start to chat about our rig. How’s it drive? What’s the fuel mileage? Do we like it? And so on, and so forth. Sometimes it ends up in a MoHo-showing, right there at the fuel pumps! Which makes me very glad I took 5 minutes before we left to make sure the insides were ship-shape!
“What’s for supper?” Asks Dave, “want to BBQ?”
“Great minds think alike” I reply, “we have a Pork Tenderloin. How about some Garlic Smashed potatoes?”
“Sounds great!”
I grabbed a Ziplock baggie and pour in some simple ingredients… some soy sauce, something sweet (honey, brown sugar, maple syrup, orange juice are just some ideas), a bit of olive oil, and some herbs and spices. Why not add some chopped garlic, some crushed ginger, along with a large dollop of Dijon mustard. In goes the tenderloin and seal it all up, making sure it’s nicely smothered. Leave it on the counter to marinate, or if you’ve prepped it before your journey, stick it in the fridge overnight or for a day or two, until you’re ready to use.
Then I grab a whole head of garlic and place it on a piece of tinfoil, drizzling it with some olive oil, salt and pepper, and any herbs you might fancy. Wrap it all tightly and securely. And last but not least, I peel and dice some potatoes and leave them in a pot of water.
Dave, who has been busy prepping the table and BBQ, is ready for his arrival beer before I am.
We have a Napoleon BBQ and we love it. It’s sturdy yet light, is a perfect size and when not in use, it stores perfectly on the driver’s side lower exterior bin.
We bought the quick disconnect kit online for approx $30. It was a quick install, and now we just connect the BBQ to the Unity’s propane tank.
Sometimes the picnic table is mobile, and we can move it closer to the MoHo and it all works. We also bought a small table,
That is easy to set up, yet perfectly sturdy and serves to hold the BBQ one those occasions when the picnic table is too far. Or there are no tables, perhaps we’re boondocking?
The campfire’s burning nicely, and we sit back and enjoy the surroundings and the moment for a bit, but our tummies soon rumble their insistence for some food. I head in and start the potatoes, emerging with the marinated tenderloin and the foiled garlic wrapper.
Dave places the wrapped garlic on the edge of the grill, as he preheats the BBQ at the highest heat for a few minutes. Once the BBQ is hot enough, we’re ready for the Tenderloin using our simple “7-6-5” method.
Voilà, it really doesn’t get any simpler than that!
That’s my cue to head in and check the potatoes, which have been simmering gently, and are fork tender! I drain and smash them with a fork, leaving some bits chunkier than others. I add some butter (and milk), and take the grilled head of garlic and carefully separate a few cloves, the skins sliding right off with a pinch, and the mushy cloves dropping right into the potato mash. I season with salt and pepper and mash the garlic into the potatoes and then taste it… hmm, might need another clove or two. This one’s up to your taste buds, not mine. Why not add some parsley for garnish?
The pork tenderloin is ready for slicing into medallions. You can drizzle it with your favourite sauce, or perhaps some mango chutney? Or whatever rocks your pork.
And to finish it all? Perhaps a glass of vino? We select our favourite brand of Cardboardeaux for the occasion. Boxed wine, quite a perfect alternative to bottles, for so many reasons. They store easy, they don’t clink together or worse, shatter! And once you’re done, the cardboard box itself is easily collapsed and can be used for campfire kindling. Our box of red fits nicely under the sink, and I keep my bag of white in the freezer, always perfectly chilled!
So here’s to life on the road. The Perfect Journey will always be full of bumps on the roads filled with twists and turns. Our advice? Take time to prep before you leave, it’s worth your five minutes. And then, when you’ve arrived? Set aside “7-6-5” minutes for a Pork Tenderloin on the BBQ. Everything in between? Sure makes for a Great Story!
We hope you enjoyed Ours. Cheers, my friends, drive safe.
