Hot Dogs in Graeagle

“Hoot, toot, scoot to the Outpost shack,
where beans get blasted and sleepy eyes snap back.
Drip-drop, flip-flop, froth to the top,
sip-sip hooray, let the caffeine pop!

Latte gets lofty, mocha gets merry,
espresso goes presto, dark, bold, and cheery.
A few sweet treats sit tempting nearby,
little bites of delight for the wandering eye.

Nibble and sip, sip and snack,
grab a little goodie for the trail in your pack.
Pines pitch perfume through Sierra-blue air,
while steam curls and swirls and disappears.

No hurry, no worry, just roast, toast, and coast,
a pint-sized pine-side caffeinated post.
Buzz with the bees, breeze through the trees,
then wander wherever your wild wheels please.

Peace. Piece. Peas.

Mr E. And Justin Thyme“

“Frostee, frosty, swirl it up tall,
a cool little shack where the tall pines call.
Burgers get sizzling, baskets get filled,
fries come flying fresh from the grill.

Shake it, swirl it, soft-serve spin,
chocolate or vanilla, let the sweet tooth win.
After dusty trails and a Sierra-day roam,
this little mountain joint feels right at home.

Nothing too fancy, nothing too neat,
just good old-fashioned roadside eats.
Grab a burger, lick that cone,
then wander where the pine winds moan.

Graeagle may be little, but the mountains are mighty,
and nothing cools a wandering fool
quite like something Frostee.

Peace. Piece. Peas.

Mr E. And Justin Thyme“