Soaked. Cold. Tired. Hungry.


We lay stranded in the Kisatchie National Forest as the rain plummeted us to defeat. 


Fast forward 2 hours and a few frightening big rigs later, Hunter and I happily feasted at an empty truck stop burger shack in a small town outside of Alexandria, LA. 


With a tiny lake forming around our waterlogged boots and slushing sounds of our asses in the burnt orange diner bench, we looked up at each other wondering what we were doing,


Then, in a moment of clarity, we were consumed by laughter and companionship. 


The Ramblin Tamblers were born.