Please pass the salt and Berry Cherry Crisp

In my previous blog, I talked about visiting my daughter last weekend. It’s not a long drive, but rather a desolate one. A two lane highway, mainly frequented by long distance truck drivers and farmers ambling along the side of the road on heavy equipment. As I’m usually up with the paper carriers, I like to leave early and drive when there’s little traffic, hopefully no farm equipment, and the sun is just making itself known for the day. Last weekend was no exception. After about an hour along the road, I stopped for a shot of caffeine and to stretch my legs. Being rather a lanky human, there hasn’t been a car seat made, other than when assisted by an inflatable donut that makes by backside sigh and say ”thank you” on a long trip.

Shortly after purchasing my latte, I noticed that the “tire pressure is low” indicator had come on. Super. My history for flat tires is a long but not a merry one, and as there was one dead skunk, an old man selling oranges by the side of the road, and a cement mixer sharing the highway with me, this did not bode well for the outcome of the rest of the trip.

This, brought me to thinking about flat tires. Moving across country from Longview, Washington to Ashdown, Arkansas (indeed, like moving from Nome to Rio) in the early 1990′s, my ex and I each drove a vehicle, as we had two to move, and the dog and the cat had let their licenses lapse.

My car was the best of the two vehicles, and that in itself, did not say much for our transportation situation. A Texan, by birth, my husband believed that if you did not drive a truck, in his case a Ford truck, it seemed you could no longer proudly display your “Beautify Texas, put a Yankee on a bus” sticker on the window behind your gun rack. By the state of his old truck, it apparently did not matter the condition of the vehicle itself only that it on the registration it said “truck” .

Of the two vehicles, only mine was equipped with A/C so the dog and cat took a vote and decided to share space with me. Unfortunately, the cat brought along her litter box for convenience sake and even the little green pine tree hanging from the rear view couldn’t make that all better.

The first flat on the fully loaded truck occurred as we reached the top of the Continental Divide. Dark had begun to claim the land, and with only the shadowed trees behind us and the glimmering view of the valley below, we pulled to the side of the road. A rusty and well used jack was pulled from his well-stocked toolcase and while I manned the flashlight, he took the old tire off, and replaced it with the spare. Personally, I couldn’t tell the difference. The tread looked pretty much equally as bad from one to the other. Good news for us, since the grades down the other side of the hill averaged a 6.7 and this truck was pulling a load even Pa Kettle would have been proud of. God takes care of drunks and fools. That thought has always warmed me on cold nights.

Miraculously, we made it down the grade in spite of my bad brakes and his bald tires.  At one point the dog and the cat were actually sitting next to each other.  This was a phenomenon that never happened before nor after that car trip.  Animals sense these things, or so they say. 

Reaching the bottom we found lodgings.  It was a lunar eclipse that night so people were out with all manner of viewing apparatuses, while we were inside trying to restart our hearts. 

After breakfast the following morning, we headed through Colorado and entered Utah.  Utah, for me, distinguishes itself by its gorgeous colorful rock formations and, of course, The Great Salt Flats.  I mention the Great Salt Flats, not because of their beauty, although in a mind frying, cattle skeleton bleaching, awesome black against white, snake infested kind of way, they were, but more because we had our second flat in the middle of the day in their back yard.  Talk about bad luck.  Well, I almost always do.

Naturally it was on the truck because it was carrying the load.  Before we headed up through the flats we stopped and made sure the vehicles, humans, animals had water and that all systems were go.  In the small cafe/gas station they estimated the heat on the desert floor to be about 130 degrees.  Hear me sizzle. Now I’m from Nova Scotia, 87 is a heat wave.  130 is the surface of Mars.

I had the foresight to purchase three large bags of ice which I loaded in our Texas-sized cooler.  Dead center in the salt flats I saw the old truck swerve.  We pulled over with another shoe blown.  Again with the rusty jack, only this time we worked up a sweat just removing it from the tool chest.  Truly, I have never been that hot, before, or since.  Sitting on the top rack of the broiler couldn’t have been much worse. I broke out the ice for the animals and placed the bags under towels for them to lie on.  At one point, I put a handful under my ball cap and let it melt down my back.  My poor husband had to change the tire.  Worse, far worse.  Asphalt, it seems somewhat liquefies at a certain heat point.  Having to lie on his back,  his shirt actually melted into the asphalt. After a seemingly endless amount of time, the repaired spare was on. His shirt, now permanently attached, was left by the side of the road to mark our passing. 

It made me ponder what crossing the desert or salt flats must have been like for early pioneers.  Fortunately, I made it the rest of the way home without incident. 

This is a great recipe.  So simple and kids and adults just lap it up.

Berry Cherry Crisp

2 cans cherry pie filling mix
1/2 cup fresh blueberries
3 tsp. lemon juice
1 pkg. Duncan Hines deluxe yellow cake mix
1 cube butter
1 10 oz. pkg. chopped pecans
1 Container whipped topping

Spread cherry pie mix in bottom of 13 x 9″ pan. Sprinkle lemon juice on top of cherries.

Mix melted butter with dry cake mix until mix is crumbly. Add nuts and mix well.

Spray 13 x 9″ pan with cooking spray. Mix together cherry pie filling and blueberries. Spread on bottom of pan. Sprinkle lemon juice over top.

evenly distribute crumbled cake mix over all.

Bake uncovered in 375 degree oven for 25-30 mins. or until crumb mixture is nicely browned. Serve with whipped topping.

Serve topped with whipped topping.