Tricks of the Trade

I think my sister coined the term trucker butt during one particularly memorable trip back to Iowa after a Colorado backpacking foray. At about hour 14 of the 16-hour push, I recall, in my groggy haze, gazing over at her from the driver’s seat and watching her playing air drums with two striped gummy worms whilst rocking out (hair was flyin’) to her very own rendition of “Uncle John’s Band.”

While Jerry Garcia rolled over in his grave, I had a road-trip-menu epiphany that has seen me through copious asphalt journeys unscathed. Here’s the diet of scrummy goodness that saw me through 35,000 miles in my car in one year. (Natural, organic, locally grown co-opers… you may want to skip over this part. Though I partake in smart, healthy, responsible shopping when I’m home in Bozeman, it’s hard to find an organic, free-range, hormone-free hunk of beef jerky at a 7-11 in rural Wyoming/North Dakota/Utah at four in the morning.)

Cinnamon Bears
This may possibly be the world’s most perfect food. Squishy, refreshing, cheap. Plus, when you’re feeling angry at your car-mates for sleeping through the last 500 miles of white-knuckle winter driving, you can pretend you’re biting their little heads off.

Hot Tamales
Yet another cinnamon sensation, however this one packs a slightly larger punch. Catch one of these “extra hot” little fellers and you’ll have your head hanging out the window in a rainstorm quicker than a border collie can catch a Frisbee.

Rotisserie Corn Dog
We’ve all done it. It’s sitting there, taunting you, slowly twirling on that little hot lamp rack, just begging for you to get sicker than a hypochondriac in Tijuana.

Lots of it. Although I can’t say I’m much of a beanhead, most of the rest of my road trippin’ mates are and they tell me that a random cup at every gas stop is a taste sensation.

Here’s to spring adventures in the family truckster. Don’t forget the Pepto.