Idaho Makes Me Sick

Dane Allred’s Rules of Engagement

IDAHO MAKES ME SICK

When our children were younger we took a trip to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We stopped at a little convenience store in Yellowstone and I got a bag of yogurt almonds. These were a popular snack touted as a healthy alternative to chocolate with the almonds coated with creamy white yogurt. I don't think it was really yogurt, but probably just a white chocolate or even cheaper waxy alternative. But being health conscience and trying to be a better eater of confections that seemed healthy, I gladly ate the almonds, doing my duty to become healthier by eating fake health food. As we returned through a big loop through Idaho, I started to feel ill as soon as we crossed the Idaho border.

It was my old friend food poisoning. I don't know how long the yogurt almonds had sat there on the shelf, but it must have been for a very long time. I don't really think of almonds going bad or even whitish candy coating turning sour. Maybe it was the preparation of the delicious treat that donated the dreaded disease to the contents of the bag. Whatever or whoever the culprit, I was once again in the grasp of the gut-wrenching galloping gastrointestinal giddiness. We crossed the border to Idaho, and I informed Debbie she would have to drive for a while. I pulled over, went to the back of our trusty blue Volkswagen beetle and bent over as if trying to inspect the rear passenger side tire. Doubled over like this, it's easy to empty the stomach through the conventional method without looking like a drunkard stuck on the side of the road.

To all the world zooming by in their cars and trucks, I was simply inspecting the rear tire. To those who looked closer as the sped by at sixty-five, they would see the occasional heaving and perhaps understand that Dane was once again being subjected to his own hubris; brought down by a package of peanuts. I mean almonds.

Debbie took over the wheel and I sat in the passenger seat moaning and trying to sleep. Every half hour or so, I would politely ask her to pull over so I could inspect the tires. I don't even think the kids knew what was going on as they slept in the back seat.

Bend over, look at the tire. Yep, still there. Make a deposit on the side of the road. Think for a minute if this is littering or against the law. Am I supposed to find some water and wash it off the side of the road? Can you get a ticket for throwing up on an interstate?

Then I would get back in the car and we would drive for a while. Soon we were almost out of Idaho. We must have stopped at least five or six times, and I thought I was going to make it out of the state with no further problems. As the state line approached, I felt the wave of nausea sweep over me again, and I donated more roadside detritus to the state known better for its potatoes.

The really strange thing about this whole episode is that as soon as we left Idaho, I felt better. I think I was able to finally sleep for a while, and in my male ego part of my mind, I may have rewritten this episode to include me getting back into the driver's seat and continuing home without further problems. But realistically I know in my deepest part of my logical brain that Debbie drove the rest of the way.

I don't hold it against anyone from the state up north, but this was one time when the state of Idaho made me sick. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

It's been over a decade and I haven't been back there since. I haven't had any yogurt almonds since then either.

Here’s wishing you don’t have to stop by the side of the road and inspect your tires.

Don’t hold a grudge against the state where you get sick. It’s not Idaho’s fault I didn’t feel well. Just think twice before you take that bag of yogurt almonds. Maybe even check the expiration date. Then you can enjoy the scenery, and not have to check and see if the tires are still inflated.

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