strawberry chevy

No trip to Yuma is complete without multiple drives along Route 95. If we’re not cruising along before the sun has fully risen, we’re hurrying back to the hotel to wash off the day’s dust. The road is surrounded by produce farms and there are signs scattered up and down offering ripe cherries, asparagus tips, blood oranges, date shakes and pickled beets.

How long can you expect a girl to resist?



These bad boys are the reason my dust-covered, bug-smudged Chevy smells like strawberries.




Orange cauliflower hey? And you’re saying I’ll like it? Well I’ll be damned.


I made off with a small jar of pickled beets. And wildflower honey. And cinnamon pear jam. But that’s it, I swear! Well, the strawberries too, of course.


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