One weekday morning in Winston-Salem, John Champlin zips into a parking lot near a busy intersection. He doesn’t even have to check the address. He knows he’s in the right place. Anybody driving past could easily miss this white-walled building barely larger than a two-car garage. But not Champlin. He’s come to this cozy spot countless times. He sees it as part of his culinary mission.

Champlin documents his hot dog adventures on his social media. Here, he poses one dog beside his own, Sydney. Photography courtesy of John Champlin

Champlin has driven end to end in North Carolina, through all 100 counties. He’s crisscrossed the country, hitting 43 of 50 states, as far south as Miami and as far north as Denali Borough, Alaska. Over the past 11 years, he’s traveled alone, with friends and family, and even with his dog, Sydney, in search of hidden gems, like this unassuming spot in Winston-Salem, to find the best hot dogs in America.

And this little building, a former bakery long known as P.B.’s Takeout, serves some of his favorites in North Carolina.

He has a name for his adventures into what he calls “Weiner World”: Tour de Frank. Champlin’s Instagram account, @tourdefrank, has more than 1,600 followers, loads of photos, and a bit of commentary about every place he’s visited. He locates these spots through tips and online research, and he uses skills honed while earning his MBA to help keep track of what he finds.

Champlin’s laptop holds all kinds of lists and pie charts recording the details. It’s all very official. But ask him how he really knows if a hot dog joint is, as he likes to say, “a master of the craft,” and he’ll tell you. It’s what he sees right outside every spot. It’s like a badge of excellence, and P.B.’s Takeout has its bona fides painted big on the wall near the door: a black-limbed, sneaker-wearing hot dog with round eyes and an open-mouth grin between the buns.

Over nearly 12 years, Champlin has learned how to find the hidden gems of the hot dog world — like the chili dog at P.B.’s, a classic since 1987. photograph by Jerry Wolford & Scott Muthersbaugh

“You know you’re at a good spot when you see a weird, anthropomorphic drawing of a hot dog out front,” Champlin says as he walks toward P.B.’s.

He pulls on the door. Locked. He’s early. He sits at one of the three picnic tables out front and waits. Minutes later, he hears the telltale click. It’s 11 in the morning, and P.B.’s opens for the lunchtime rush. Champlin walks toward the door.

“It’s never too early for a hot dog,” he says.

Sift through Champlin’s Instagram feed, and you’ll find him with his mom, Betty, or one of his many friends. They’ll be somewhere — at a food truck, food cart, or a mom-and-pop restaurant in the middle of nowhere — and he’ll be holding a hot dog and flashing a wide, toothy grin that creases his cheeks.

His work hasn’t gone unnoticed. In 2023, the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council named Champlin one of its “Hot Dog Ambassadors.” And once, as an usher at his niece’s wedding, he escorted a bridesmaid down the aisle who later told his cousin, “When John walked me down the aisle, I felt like I was being escorted by a celebrity.”

Along his adventures, Champlin is sometimes joined by friends and family, like his mom, Betty. Photography courtesy of John Champlin

His friend’s 7-year-old daughter, Matilda, is more succinct: “He’s the hot dog champion,” she says.

Champlin has had many wait-a-minute moments, and they happen everywhere.

“Hey, are you the Hot Dog Guy?” someone will yell.

“Yeah,” Champlin responds. “That’s me.”

Lots of hoopla after lots of work. And it all began by accident.

In 2013, a boutique apparel store in downtown Winston-Salem offered customers free swag if they took their photo holding a hot dog bought at some local spot and posted it to Instagram. Champlin loved the idea. He opened an Instagram account with his one photo of him holding a hot dog.

“What am I going to put up there now?” he wondered. “I’m not that interesting. Maybe it’ll just be me eating hot dogs.”

There’s never a bad time for a hot dog. Champlin shares a hot dog in good company. Photography courtesy of John Champlin

That’s how it started 12 years ago this summer. Since then, he’s eaten more than 1,050 hot dogs, and his quest has taken him everywhere, including Iceland last year with friends for his 40th birthday. He’s taken six Tour de Frank trips nationwide, and he’s collected his discoveries in photo albums with names like “Big Dog Country” and “Feast on the East Coast.” He’s also connected with a food truck called Yeti Dogs in Anchorage, Alaska, and after messaging back and forth with them for months online, he finally made it out there. As he stood in a long line in front of a boxy truck in see-yourself silver, he spotted one of the owners. She smiled. She recognized him.

But when you read Champlin’s social media posts and click through photo after photo, you realize his eating endeavor is not just about what he’s served. It’s about what he finds beyond the bun.

Champlin grew up in Richmond, Virginia, the only child of a lawyer dad and an administrative assistant mom. He came south for college and found a second home full of friends at Wake Forest University. He worked as an RA, became the drum major for the university’s marching band, and graduated in 2006 with a business degree. In 2015, he earned his MBA from Wake Forest, and he now works as WFU’s director of alumni engagement.

In his spare time, he continues his adventures into Weiner World. He eats no more than three hot dogs a day, whether he’s on a quick jaunt or a 10-day journey. At the end of every trip, he eats nothing but salads for a few days straight to settle what he calls his “stomach space.” He keeps records on even the most minute hot dog details.

An illustration commissioned for Champlin immortalized him as one of his favorite things. “I didn’t always know that I wanted to be a chili cheese dog,” he wrote on Instagram, “but now, it’s so obvious that I do.” illustration by Jeshaka

But what sticks with him is what he’s discovered, especially in North Carolina, along the two-lane roads that ribbon the state. He’s learned to appreciate history, the architectural beauty in towns no bigger than a dime, and how the communal allure of a hot dog can draw anyone together on any afternoon.

“It’s the joy of putting in an address, leaving home on a Saturday, and driving two hours to eat a hot dog,” he says. “You find things along the way. Maybe it’s a park along a river or a cool Main Street with a brewery or a distillery. That always reminds me of what has come from all this. It’s that joy of finding things, of willing to be whimsical — and whimsy is part of eating a hot dog.

“And so much of it is about the people,” he continues. “So many places I go to are mom-and-pop places, places that have been in that community forever. The person serving you has been there for 25 years, and the person in the kitchen has worked the grill for 25 years. They are really masters at their craft, and I like lifting that up.”

Back at P.B.’s, after finishing two hot dogs loaded with chili, mustard, and slaw, Champlin chalks up his 774th Tour de Frank stop. Now he wants to find one more. So he drives toward Smith Reynolds Airport, toward the old airplane hangars, toward the former headquarters of Piedmont Airlines, which began in 1948 around this very spot. Champlin’s head is on a swivel, looking for what he’s heard about for months.

“The first time I came, I couldn’t find it,” he says. “I know the address. I’ve got to make sure I don’t go past it. Where is it?”

Then, he spots it. Or really, he sees two words in big white letters — “Snack Bar” — with an arrow pointing toward the entrance. He’s found it, the place he’s read about online: Piedmont Aviation Snack Bar, which has recently been promoting a Steak Philly hot dog.

Photography courtesy of John Champlin

Inside, Champlin walks down a long hallway of an abandoned hangar with peeling red paint on the floor. He’s lost. He turns around, retraces his steps, and pulls on what he thought was a side door. Nope. That’s the door he needs. He walks into an L-shaped spot decorated with eye-candy items from long ago. There’s a washboard, a Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots game, a yellow quarter moon advertising Moon Pies. And, across from the walk-up window, there’s a white Piedmont Airlines sign with its recognizable blue insignia, a reminder of Winston-Salem’s storied past.

“I heard about this on TikTok,” says a customer standing in front of Champlin, “and I knew I had to come and try it.”

The customer is talking about the Steak Philly hot dog. He orders it. Champlin does, too. He takes a seat at one of the few tables inside the restaurant and looks down at a paper towel holding a hot dog with beef, peppers, onions, and melted provolone underneath a zigzag squirt of Cheez Whiz. Champlin digs in.

“It’s a gut bomb,” he says as he bites in. Toppings drip through his fingers. “But it is so good.”

Piedmont Aviation Snack Bar becomes No. 775.

“There’s your vegetables,” Champlin says, pointing to the peppers and onions. “That’s a salad right there.”

Champlin now has his sights set on 800. And so the Tour de Frank continues.

Piedmont Aviation Snack Bar
3820 North Liberty Street
Winston-Salem, NC 27105
(336) 767-4173
facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063699907204

More to Explore: Check out John Champlin’s favorite hot dog joints across North Carolina.