Patrick, Marco Hollywood, Alfred, Zachy Horndawg, Heavy D, and I piled into a big white van at 6am and headed east. First stop was an early morning biscuits-and-gravy run at Corky’s in Rialto, and then onwards into the brown abyss.
First stop, the Kelso Dunes in the Mojave. 40 minutes off the highway, the desert dirt bleeds into beach sand under our feet, transcended from the distant San Bernardino mountains.
The air blows cold, the sun beats hot, and we’re off on another adventure. This is The Hundreds Design, and we are embarking on another one of our seasonal design trips. This week, we’ll be putting in work on Spring 2015 and drawing inspiration from the world around us. I mean, it’s kinda impossible not to.
Gettin’ hungry as we cross the border into Arizona. Luckily for us, Kingman is next:
Thrift shops, vintage barber stations, a burger stand. It’s Saturday afternoon, but the town still sleeps. The only sounds are the rustling of the American flags and the occasional doorchimes. As we pull into a parking space, we’re handily greeted by the staff (and patrons) of Redneck’s BBQ, who run outside to welcome us.
I’ve gotta put this out there. BBQ is my favorite genre of food. And I love my food. So to say that Redneck’s is maybe the best BBQ I’ve eaten is a tall statement, even considering Franklin’s and Salt Lick in Austin, Texas (disclaimer: I have yet to eat BBQ in Memphis).
I fell in love with this restaurant. And here’s why!
Redneck’s is just about five years old, it’s family owned and operated and loved. Each member of the family is responsible for different popular menu items.
For starters, the pork sandwiches with a choice of sides. Mac and cheese, cole slaw, potato salad…
Which would’ve been fine enough, but then the ribs came through and kicked us in the taint. Smoked for the better part of a day, you could literally shake the meat off the bones.
Next up, the Jethro Fries, a pound of Redneck’s famous hand-cut Freedom Fries, smothered with sour cream, cheese, jalapenos, and meat:
Rounded off with the Ultimate Frozen Lemon Pie, graciously on the house:
Zach hornballin’ it up:
On the road again…
We tried to make it to the Grand Canyon Cavern Tours by sunfall, but blew it. So instead, we ran around in the freezing cold like imbeciles, laughing at the bootleg dinosaurs and getting spooked by the groundskeeper lady luring us to stay the night at the creepiest abandoned motel ever.
If you’ve seen Cars, there’s a Radiator Springs vibe buzzing around all the roadside towns off Route 66. The establishments have definitely played it up, inviting passing tourists to quench their possessed children fiending for pop-culture injection.
Anyways, our journey’s just begun. Keep up with The Hundreds Design this week as we hunt the horizon.
