There is a stretch of Highway 7 in Arkansas where the pines crowd close to the road and the traffic thins out. It always makes me slow down a little.
On my last drive through, I finally hit the brakes for a roadside burger spot I had passed too many times to count. I had told myself for years I would stop there.
That day, I meant it. I crunched into the gravel lot, stepped out, and caught the smell of beef on a hot grill before I even reached the door…