Here are twenty of the best microbrews America has to offer and the towns to drink them in. Continue reading Twenty Great American Craft Breweries and Brew Pubs
As the summer season approaches, I find myself following the price of oil and wondering how the upward trend is going to affect my travel season. The truth is that oil, and the fuels made from it, are a finite resource. The price is going to continue to rise, no matter how many subsidies we throw at it. Period. But this doesn’t spell the end of the roadtrip. (In fact, this may be the dawn of a new “golden age” of exploring America’s roadways.) Here are three ways to keep the pavement rolling under your tires as fuel prices rise.
1. See more, drive (slightly) less. While I’d love to get back out to the Rocky Mountains again this year, I’m considering scrapping that plan for exploring the nearby White Mountains instead. Rather than drone out long-distance milage to get to a far-off destination, I’m going to spend a lot more time getting to know the backroads of western Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. While a lot of the small towns here aren’t considered “destinations,” they all have something to offer, either historical or cultural. I spent twenty minutes with an elderly gentleman as he described, to my friends and I, how the small town we stopped in for breakfast had changed over the years since his childhood. I’d never heard any of the events he’d spoken of and it reminded me how little I really knew about the region within 100 miles of my home. Continue reading “Long Live Roadtrips! Three Ways to Keep Exploring America’s Roadways Through Rising Fuel Prices”
Real travel is when you put yourself in a position where the unexpected happens. Which is something I sometimes do accidentally.
While driving around Dallas with the cast of “Paulie & Me” and Donna, our awesome Keller-Williams real estate agent guiding us through potential sites for a brewery, we happen by a restaurant called Sol Irelandes. The restaurant’s host runs outside to say hello to our guide and ask if she’s coming in for a bite. We look at each-other and silently agree. What the hell, it’s lunch time and the scent of chipotle wafting from the little Irish-Mexican restaurant is making my stomach ache for something with a little kick.
What I get is a whole lot better. I order enchiladas with the hottest sauce they have available. I love spicy food, but I expect at least a few beads of sweat to pop out of my forehead when eating it in Texas. Surprise, it’s not hot. Our server, JC, appears, as if out of thin air, and hears my lament about the lack of bite. Rather than my complaint causing an awkward scene, JC smiles and heads to the kitchen to get me something special.
Now I’ve done it. These guys are going to make me cry. Continue reading “JC’s Special Sauce”