The Great American Dream? It's freedom, plain and simple. The kind you can feel in your lungs when you're miles from the nearest soul and the sky stretches so wide it swallows your worries whole. It’s land you call your own—not ‘cause it was handed down, but ‘cause you bled into it. Every fence post dug, every steer branded, every storm weathered—that's the price. It was about building something with your own two hands. A homestead. A brand. Somethin' that meant somethin’. You didn’t just chase riches—you chased respect. Legacy. and a place at the fire when the trail grew cold.
