Where we’ve been, what we’ve seen, and how it left a mark.
Jaipur, India — Watch Out for Elephants (No, Really, Watch Out!)
We’d just switched hotels to be closer to Amber Fort — the honey-colored fortress perched high above Jaipur, Rajasthan’s Pink City. I was starving. In India, if you want meat, you learn quick: follow the smoke to the Muslim quarters. That’s where you’ll find dishes like Laal Maas — a fire-breathing mutton curry that’ll burn the dust off your soul.
I was hustling on foot, single-minded in my search for food, when my counterpart yelled:
“Watch out!”
I waved it off. I figured they could go around me.
Louder now: “WATCH OUT!!”
Still, I kept walking, thinking, I got it. No big deal.
Then I heard the panic:
“WATCH OUT! YOU’RE ABOUT TO BE RUN OVER BY AN ELEPHANT!!”
I spun around just in time to leap out of the way of a 5,000-pound elephant stampeding down the street — a wiry man on her back, flailing a stick, barely hanging on. I dove out of the path and landed next to a street food vendor fanning flames under a coal-fired grill. That fire turned into a blessing: he handed me one hell of a curry dish that filled my gut and lit my soul. Giving me enough time to laugh about my latest travel adventure encounter with elephants.
Dirt Road Truth from Jaipur:
Life’s an adventure — but only if you stay alert.
You can’t always control what charges at you, but you can control how fast you respond… and whether you stay open to the lesson or the blessing waiting nearby.
To live your best life, stay wide-eyed and ready — because around every wild turn might be the fire that feeds your soul.
Sally the Rescue That Bonded Us
This here’s my dad, Billy Joe, with Sally — a calf we rescued one muddy day that stuck with us for years. The photo makes me smile and chuckle in loving memory of them every time I see it.
I wanted to call her CoCo, but like most orphan animals we raised, Mama had final say on the name. Just like she did with George the Pig, and every dog, calf, or runt we bottle-fed back to life over the years.
Sally got separated from her mama down in the creek bottom. We found her cold, hungry, and bawling. For whatever reason, her mama wouldn’t take her back. So I climbed down into the creek, carried her up to the truck, and rode in the back holding her all the way from the Hunter Place to our house — about a mile — just to keep her from thrashing and hurting herself.
She made it. Grew up strong, with a little hitch in her step, but she raised good calves of her own. Every time I came home, Sally would wander over for a head rub and a few range cubes.
Dirt Road Truth from the Farm: Rescuing that calf didn’t just save her — it was one of those quiet moments that tied dad and I together. That’s SphstRDnck living. Do the hard thing. Show up for the helpless. And never forget your roots.
Soul of the South: Grit, Jazz & a Fresh Start in New Orleans
They call it The Big Easy, but nothing about New Orleans comes easy. The city’s been through hell more than once — hurricanes, hard times, and its own wild heart — and it still stands, proud and loud.
I’ve done the old-school NOLA run — kicked out of Pat O’Briens and woke up not sure what day it was after a liquid lunch turned full-blown adventure. But this trip was different. No booze. No college. No foggy memories. Just a mission.
I was there to help a friend finally earn her U.S. citizenship. Took years of red tape, meetings, and grinding it out. But we got it done. Walked the streets afterward — Bourbon, Jackson Square — soaking it in. Not chasing the next drink, just walking listening to jazz and absorbing the culture that is only New Orleans.
New Orleans don’t fake it. It’s scarred up, stubborn, and still swinging — just like the best of us. That’s SphstRDnck living. You don’t need a hangover to feel alive. You need roots, grit, and people worth standing beside.
Dirt Road Truth from NOLA: This trip was a reminder: life hits hard, but we hit back harder — and we do it with patience and style.
Grit, Glory, and the Taj
We rolled into Agra on a so-called “sleeper” bus from Udaipur. Truth is, there wasn’t much sleep — just hours of getting tossed around like a can of beer in the back of the truck. After a tuk-tuk ride and a half-mile walk, we finally made it to the gates.
That first glimpse through the main arch? Silence. Stillness. The Taj Mahal rises like a dream — flawless symmetry, ivory marble glowing in the light, every detail whispering devotion.
Yeah, it’s a love story. Yeah, he nearly bankrupted the kingdom to build it. But standing there, it makes sense. Twenty thousand artisans. Twenty years. All for the woman he loved. That kind of passion? It’s rare. Unreasonable. And unforgettable.
You take your photos. A few videos. But then you just stand there, breathing it in — not just the beauty, but the boldness.
Dirt Road Truth from the Taj Mahal: That’s what SphstRDnck is about. Grit, love, legacy. Going further than makes sense. Living big. Building something that lasts. Even if the road’s rough getting there.