BOSS HOGG'S

BOSS HOGG'S.

It's a restaurant in La Junta, Colorado with real wood walls and real wood floors and you drink out of Mason Jars. Cowboys eat there...and me.

There was a sign on the wall that read: MANY HAVE EATEN HERE AND SURVIVED.

Every cowboy over the age of 40 walks with a cane and all, the young and the one-fall-off-a-horse-too-many induced prematurely old, have sun baked reddish brown faces below the brow; a forehead as pale as a baby's sole. Boss Hogg's has real guns mounted on the wall. Some of the handguns are mounted in frames...I'm assuming they are special; maybe a weapon of choice for a justifiable or unjustifiable homicide. Or not.

There was one guy who drove up on a Harley and he wore a rather new T-shirt with "I ATE THE 4 LB BURRITO" silkscreened on the back. I believe him.

The plate in the photo above features Mountain Oysters...sliced, described in the menu as: "The bull might not like it, but you will". I had alway assumed that the poor bovine bastards would have had their balls removed when they were young...sort of like us humans mutilate the genitalia of our sons, calling it god ordained circumcision; but as you can see, these gigantic balls came from no infant.

I gave it my best, but the gonads of a bull leaves much to be desired...no flavor whatsoever, which is probably for the best as far as the bull is concerned. The people around here eat them even though they taste like shit...imagine what would have happened to the species if they were flavorful.

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I just found out that US 50 follows the old Santa Fe Trail. Now as I travel I can pretend I am one of those early settlers. But I am not heading west like they all did. I'm heading east...like I gave up on the whole land of milk and honey thing and only want to return to the land of Taco Bells on every other street corner. Now I am depressed.

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