One year ago Zack, Ellie, and I were rolling along a dusty BLM road somewhere at the foot of the Eastern Sierra.
As the Jeep skipped along the hole ridden, bumpy boondock road our butts hopped and bopped around in our seats and we couldn’t help but laugh. The wholesome yet funky guitar lick of “Althea” trickled through the speakers and the spirit of the Grateful Dead echoed through space as Jerry’s voice lightly brushed the words, “nobody’s messing with you, but you”.
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