Trailheads Welcome Lobster Boy Home, Draft A New Trail Master, And Are Celebs At Big Shanty Smokehouse.

Brad returned from Maine to join his booted mates. Although we didn’t ask him, we’re confident he hiked down the Appalachian Trail for his return journey (given the high cost of airfares these days).

Brad said he had a wonderful time and ate his weight in lobster, washing it down with gallons of drawn butter. The lobstermen of Maine were sad, but the big red sea bugs threw a party for his departure. There was something different about him. We just couldn’t quite put our finger on it. 

Trail Master Guy rallied Roy, Patrick, and Brad for an attack on Kennesaw Mountain, which we think has happened once before. Steve and his wife Edith were living the good life in Carmel, CA, and George was swamped with work.

With Brad back, Fio got to see Elvis. The traveling man had placed his big black dog into a kennel, or as Elvis calls it, "The Big House." We imagine the poor convict rattled his tin cup against the metal bars in protest. Elvis was happy to be sprung from the slammer. Had Brad not returned, Elvis was going to go all Shawshank Redemption and exit through the hole in the wall behind his Lassie poster. Andy Dufresne would have been proud.

The weather wasn't as hot as it had been. It was the low 80s with 600% humidity when we began our march up the mountain. This sucker doesn’t mess around– from the get-go, there’s a steep grade of rocks and dirt, and occasionally, sneaky exposed roots. In other words, watch your step.

There were many people on the trail. We noticed a group of guys in gray wool uniforms struggling as they muled a cannon up the mountainside. They were muttering something about “Them Damn Yankees.” We suspect they were baseball fans. We gave them a wide berth.

It was vigorous exercise scaling the steep elevation, but we somehow managed, resting on benches along the way. On and on and on we trekked, our hearts pumping like Texas derricks. 

“This is too much like exercise,” Roy whined.

“Is anyone else hungry?” Patrick asked.

“I could go for some lobster,” Brad said.

“Keep moving,” Trail Master snapped. “We're not done yet!”

God had cranked the thermostat, and the sun was punishing. We finally made it almost to the top, where Brad and Roy parked themselves on a bench.

“C’mon, fellas,” Trail Master said, “We’re almost there.”

“No thanks,” Brad said. 

“Yeah,” Roy agreed. “We’re conscientious objectors.”

“That was my line!” Brad snapped.

Roy agreed to give him partial credit and to split the royalties.

Patrick began belting out “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” as Guy joined in, singing pitch-perfect baritone harmonies. It was as if Ashford and Simpson had written the tune just for them. The two Trailheads hiked to the top of Kennesaw Mountain, grabbed a selfie, and shot some canons for kicks. They didn’t know they were loaded.

When they returned, their lazy friends said some young guys came up and began doing push-ups on the bench. Not being intimidated, the slothful Trailheads proved their athleticism by raising their eyebrows.

A woman came by, and we talkied to her. She said taking the road back to the parking lot was easier than backtracking down the trail. Her name is Heather, and Brad, Roy, and Patrick immediately elected her our new Trail Master. We liked the idea of easy. 

We began our descent as ex-Trail Master Guy fell to the back of the pack. We heard him sniffling and sobbing, but what can you do? All power is temporary.

Heather is a charming woman raising a couple of teenagers who she said could hike circles around us (who couldn't?). She and her husband live close to the mountain, and she hikes Mt. Kennesaw at least once a week. Show-off. We enjoyed talking with her. 

Roy pointed out some of the old-growth trees. “Check out that one, Brad,” he said. "It's a beauty."

Brad looked up, stepped off the edge of the raised road, and came tumbling down on the asphalt. HARD. 

With the heat-softened asphalt, we were initially concerned that Brad might have dented the road. 

“What is it with you guys?!” Roy shouted. “I’m Roy Tumbles. I did falls first. I have cartoons and everything. This is my brand! My identity, dammit! But Guy tripped a few weeks ago, and now Brad’s tumbling too. Do you guys want to do the cartoons? Well? Do you?” he threatened.

They shook their heads, ashamed. “No, sir. We’re sorry.”

“I didn’t think so,” he said, marching away in a huff, trying hard not to trip himself.

All the while, Brad was losing blood. Not a lot, but enough to draw sympathy. Guy expertly dressed Brad’s wound. Although he was our ex-Trail Master, the man is always prepared with bandages, tourniquets, and even an iron lung if necessary. Guy kissed Brad’s boo-boo to make it “all better,” and we resumed our downward trek.

A Park Ranger vehicle came up the hill and stopped. We knew that it was the official World Park Ranger Day and wished the uniformed man a great day. He nodded and then told Guy to put his dog on a leash. Busted! Guy is a desperado known to skirt rules, regulations, and laws many times before.

We made it to the parking lot, wished Heather well, and decided we’d let Guy have the Trail Master title back again until someone better comes along. (Heather, give us a call.)

Trailheads were excited because we were headed to Big Shanty Smokehouse in Kennesaw, a joint we'd sampled in December when it was under the new management team of Paul & Lori Holden. This dynamic duo blew our hiking boots off with their food. Read about that visit and rave review here.

We returned in mid-May and were disappointed to learn they were closed because the team was competing in the world-famous Memphis in May barbecue competition. When we entered the restaurant, Paul recognized us. 

“Hey, you’re back,” he said, smiling. “I was just thinking about you guys, wondering where you were.”

This is quite a different reception than we usually get on return visits. We’re often chased away with a broom or a load of buckshot fired in our direction. But Paul seemed to enjoy seeing us.

We told him about coming in May and asked how they did in the big barbecue competition. 

Paul grinned. “We did the best we’ve ever done. We entered in 20 categories and were in the top third ranking in every one of them. And over 200 pit masters were competing.” 

He told us Lori’s smoked turkey received a perfect score, along with three other competitve entries. According to the rules, they flipped a coin for rankings, and unfortunately, Team Big Shanty Smokehouse came in fourth place. Stupid luck! The good news is you can order a smoked turkey for your holiday meal (and bask in the compliments you'll hear). 

We placed our orders and admired the new trophy hardware in the restaurant. Paul and Lori have more hardware than the Ace store.

The dogs received complimentary ice water. (We were envious.) Elvis asked for a Maker's Mark and water, but he didn’t have his ID. Our food arrived, and we dug in.

The smoked beef brisket is terrific—tender, smoky, and oh so delectable. We saw the whole brisket unwrapped in the kitchen. It was a tear-inducing sight.

Ditto for the spareribs. They have just the right amount of fat and are meaty to the bone. There is a bark of Willingham’s spices and a beautiful Willingham’s Barbecue Sauce glaze. 

The smoked pulled chicken and the quarter bird are poultry perfection. Paul uses Springer Mountain Chicken, and those babies eat like a dream. 

The sausage was also good. Paul knows his way around the smoker. 

The sides were also on point. The collard greens were authentic and slap-your-mama good (but you’d better run if you slapped your mama).

The slaw was crisp with a light, flavorful dressing.

The cowboy beans were at home on the range. Saddle up a fork and dig in.

And the daily special of cheesy rice was a nice surprise–you rarely see it on a barbecue menu. It was very good.

Paul came out and we talked. This guy has been cleaning up accolades and awards like a Dyson vacuum: Big Shanty Smokehouse has been honored as Best of the Best in America by National BBQ News for 2025, recognized as one of the Best Barbeque Joints in Georgia, and named in Best of Cobb 2025.

He told us he was also recently selected as a 2025 Editor’s Pick for Barbecue on the website 5 Reasons to Visit, and he credits our December review for getting the restaurant on their radar. We looked at our feet and said, “Aw, shucks, t’weren’t nuttin’.”

We gathered for a group shot of the four sweaty Trailheads and Paul and Lori Holden, and once again gave Big Shanty Smokehouse our hearty endorsement. Get there soon. Taste what all the buzz is about.

Rating: Four Ribs*

Big Shanty Smokehouse

3393 Cherokee St NW 

Kennesaw GA 30144 

770.499.PIGG (7444) 

bigshantybbq.com

*About Our Barbecue Rating System

Trailheads do not claim to be food experts, epicureans, or sophisticated palates. We are hungry hikers who attack a selected barbecue venue and ravage our way through whatever smoked fare and fixings they're dishing out. Our reviews feature what we believe are the highlights of the menu we sampled. So our intent is not to trash talk the saintly folks who tend to smoldering smokers on hot, humid summer days. They are sacrificing themselves in the noble art of smoking meats and feeding the drooling masses. Many are independent entrepreneurs who are the backbone of this humming American economy. Now that you know our standards, you may wonder why every barbecue place gets a four-ribs rating. The answer is easy: our group has acclaimed designers, and they think the ribs graphic looks cool. Who are we to argue? Enjoy.

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