It begins.
Mrs. PFT and yours truly are rolling to Dallas, in a bus. Not the ’68 VW bus. And not with a ticket on Greyhound.
It’s a full-sized, 10-wheel, two-bathroom, full-kitchen bus with desks and TVs and a refrigerator and no booze that I have managed to find.
Yet.
We’re making a mostly-non-stop trip to Dallas. And I’ll be posting stories the whole way.
Things will get very interesting if/when I find the booze.