When Pappy Runs in front of the Pick-up, He gets Tired

Thus goes the saying on a wood plank outside “Hillbilly Hotdogs” in Huntington, WV. I finished my earlier blog post too early. We stopped at Hillbilly Hotdogs following a random jaunt to see the Marshall Stadium. I think I have found the place my mother-in-law (MIL) would die and go to heaven and I don’t mean that in a mean way. My MIL is the connoisseur of hot dogs. While I merely tolerate a hot dog from time to time, she LOVES hot dogs and I have to say that several “Thundering Herd” hotdogs might change my mind. How could you not deep fry a hot dog, top it with secret chili sauce, chili, nacho cheese, onions, slaw and jalapenos and not fall in love? It was amazing. Really. And I don’t like hotdogs. Particularly. The Sailor had the Strictly Business Dog which was the above hot dog with fried spam on top. He’s in love. And the décor is priceless. If you find yourself visiting Huntington, WV, you must stop. It was fabulous.
We may arrive at Lewis 50 pounds heavier, but I am indeed in a better frame of mind. The beer was good too. :)

The Sailor would also like for me to remark that everything in Huntington is named for Robert C. Byrd. It’s on EVERY building. Almost.

We’re off to Kentucky. You might not have heard the end of me yet for the night. This trip is goin’ good. :)