NATALIJA UGRINA

Proof that Cut and Shoot, Texas is real — and yes, I went. If you've never heard of Cut and Shoot, Texas, you're not alone — and you probably won't believe it's real the first time someone says it. I didn't. I was standing at a baggage carousel, half-asleep, making airport small talk with a stranger. He told me he was from Cut and Shoot. I laughed. He did not. I pulled out my phone right there between the luggage carts, and there it was — Cut and Shoot, Texas, population just

Me and my new best friend on the Seguin Squirrel Trail — one of 32 painted squirrel statues scattered across town. Yes, she's dressed better than me. I have a rule when I travel through Texas: if I see something on the map that makes me do a double take, I stop. Life is too short to keep driving past the weird stuff, and Texas — more than almost any state I've been to — rewards the people who pull over. (Although Louisiana gives it a run for its money — just ask the frogs of

Yes, that's a frog baker. Welcome to Rayne, Louisiana — the Frog Capital of the World, where even the murals have personality. I have a rule when I'm on a long road trip: I don't drive past anything weird without stopping. Life is too short for straight lines, and honestly, some of the most interesting things I've ever seen were the ones I almost missed because I was in a hurry to get somewhere else. I was driving from New Orleans to Houston, and somewhere around Lafayette, L

I was originally planning to spend the day visiting small towns around Nashville. No real plan, just driving and stopping wherever looked interesting. At some point, I took a turn I didn’t mean to take—and that’s how I ended up in Lynchburg. At first, it didn’t feel like anything special. Just a quiet Southern town with a courthouse, a few shops, and not much going on. I almost kept driving, but something about it made me slow down. It felt calm in a way that didn’t seem stag