When people look at the journey, they see the vehicles, the miles, the rebuilds, the growth, and the business itself.
But behind so much of that was my father.
Being around my father shaped me more than I can ever fully explain.
My dad was a steelworker, a blue collar man, and one of the craftiest people I have ever known. He always had a way of figuring things out. If something needed to be built, adjusted, repaired, or rethought, he stayed with it until it made sense.
He was there with me through so many of the early builds. Handing me tools. Giving me ideas. Looking at problems with me. Helping me fabricate what needed to be fabricated. He was never someone standing far away from the work. He was right there in it with me.
Some of the most meaningful moments of my life were not glamorous at all. They were in the garage, in the shop, on the road, and next to my father trying to solve one more problem.
Those moments mattered, not just because of the work, but because of what they represented. Loyalty. Patience. Toughness. Craftsmanship. The kind of values that stay with you long after the project itself is finished.
I learned a lot from him without him ever needing to give some big speech about it. The way he carried himself, the way he approached work, the way he stayed steady, all of that taught me something.
And when I look back at what was built, I know very clearly that I did not build it alone.
My father was not just helping with projects. He was helping shape the man I was becoming while those projects were happening.
He was a huge part of the backbone of this journey. Behind every rebuilt vehicle, every chapter, every mile, and every lesson, there were people who helped make it possible. For me, my father will always be one of the biggest parts of that story.
Family mattered most
Behind the business and all the growth was something deeper, time, loyalty, support, and the values that shaped everything.
The vehicles mattered. The business mattered. But the time spent building with my father meant even more.
