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Back when I was just starting out, I would drive myself all across the country. These days my schedule is handled.

And you know what? It's nice.

But sometimes I miss those lean years.

Out on the road, alone with my thoughts, I rode a lot while I clock those miles.

But do you know what I miss most?

The food.

Now, I don't want to get into any copyright disputes, but there's something pretty special

about sniffing out those little hole-on-the-wall joints.

And whenever I was in the South, I went looking for some good barbecue.

My grandmother always talked about a little town tucked back in the

PD River Valley in South Carolina, famous for their whole hog barbecue. One hot August morning,

I found myself flying along 95, making my way back home to Annapolis after a gig in Florida.

If you've ever made that drive, you know it's just miles and miles of trees and nothing.

So when I saw a sign for gas and the Pee-D River, about halfway through South Carolina,

I decided to stop.

I rolled up to an old-timey-looking gas station, two pumps, a little shop, and a roadside-style

barbecue shack.

There was smoke rising from behind the shack, hanging thick in the heat.

...