This is where I spent most of my evening last night.

I’ve logged over 30k miles on this pickup since March, criss crossing three states. It’s an older pickup and the paint is peeling. But it’s mechanically sound and that’s what matters. It runs like a beast, sounds mean, is dirty tough and pulls like a work horse. And that’s what matters. Paint is of no value to me.

I enjoy doing the work myself. Be it an oil change, running businesses, riding the snorty colt, or crushing a hard workout. I’ve never had someone to do things for me. And a part of me is thankful for that.

This pickup may not be a pretty cherry as it once was. But hell, neither am I. But it gets the job done, and so do I. This pickup represents a lot of things to me. Freedom. Independence. A reminder that it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Stay wild friends.