Meat Week

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Best of the Road Awards

Posted by Erni Walker Feb 14, 2014 - Tour

Lo, an entire week has passed since our return to Los Angeles, and we, the Admirals, have maintained some much-needed silence. We've been busy eating salads, meditating, exercising with our personal trainer...You know, LA stuff. But we're finally rested up! And despite the ravenous hunger that comes a-calling every hour, we're just about back to full health.

To everyone we met on the road: We cannot thank you enough for your hospitality, generosity, enthusiasm, and most of all BBQ. It seemed anti-climactic to come back and just sit here, so we'd like to show our gratitude in the only way we know how: A crappy video!

We put together a little ceremony we're calling The Best of the Road Awards. Please watch, enjoy, and know that although our backgrounds are fake, our gratitude is very, very real. THANKS, AMERICA! THANKS MEAT WEEK! Meat be with you...

Super groundhog bowl meatpocalypse now

Posted by Erni Walker Feb 2, 2014 - Tour

We are closing in on our final destination: New York City. It's our 9th day on the road, 9th day eating BBQ, 15th state driven through, and millionth cup of coffee.

Time no longer makes sense. It seems like we left months ago, but it also seems like this week has flown by. In DC we experienced the largest Meat Week event so far (300 people!) and in Baltimore we were welcomed with local gifts, warm hugs and adorable dogs.

This trip has been confusing, snowy, sweaty, scary, triumphant, and above all, meaty. It's hard to believe that tomorrow we'll be on a plane to LA. If we can get out of the Super Bowl traffic, that is. NYC, ready your arteries and your whiskey! We're coming for your meat.


Posted by Erni Walker Jan 30, 2014 - Tour

DUVAL: verb, present tense - to completely pwn, usually catching a victim off-guard. to show utter disrespect for one's surroundings. (origin: Duval County, Jacksonville, Florida)

The storms raged, the cars piled up, the snows fell, the White Walkers emerged in the desolate wasteland. The weathermen raged and ranted, the parents fretted. Yet one voice showed no fear, one voice guided us, unshakeable and steely, through the warnings of those inside the perimeter and out. One voice cut through the noise with zero emotion: Siri. Our helpful robot. She showed us clear roads when the world said there were none.

All along the way, what we saw and what we were told were in stark contrast. "No way in or out," they said. Yet her maps showed us green paths. Even the road signs warned us to stay out of Atlanta, even though their black tops were clear.

We planned for the worst. Macon hotels, sleeping in the car, even the word "McRib" was uttered as a last resort BBQ fallback. Yet we pressed on. The Meat Wagon cruised into the ATL at a cautiously optimistic speed to find one place still open and reserving meat for us. Only our captain and first mate had the mettle to brave the icy roads. We feasted like never before. 

Even in this moment, it seems unreal that we made it. We are officially halfway through our 8-city, 8-night tour. Whatever treachery tomorrow brings, we know now we cannot be stopped. We have been sheltered by the meat gods' vastly-spread hot wings. 

Meat be with you, as never before. Winter storm Leon, consider yourself DUVAL'd.