Mad Dog Blues

    It’s a chilly Sunday evening in the windy city, in clear contrast to the hot Texas weather that I just came in from. There’s an eight-ho...

  I come in through the thick metal doors and have to take a slight step back to adjust my eyes from the bright sun outside to the prevailin...

For hours there was nothing but darkness. As the train crossed Arkansas and Missouri in the night, glimpses of faraway streetlights flickeri...

About an hour outside Dallas, as the train keeps heading east, we begin to enter Wood County, named for an early Texas governor but that cou...

The late lunch rush is finally over and it takes a while for me to adjust from the rumble of overlapping loud conversations and the constant...

I park in front of an unassuming bar on Broadway, with its red brick facade and neat blue paneled window frames. I step off the car and ...

I’m driving south on Interstate 15. Butte’s famous Mile-High hill slowly disappears from view. The highway cleaves across Deer Lodge Nat...