In Praise of Crappy Coffee

The only thing better than taking a road trip in January is, while on that road trip, sipping coffee the color and taste of your car's tires from a styrofoam cup. Crappy coffee is going the way of the daily newspaper, and it's a damn shame. What's the point of a beautiful road trip with miles of highway to explore, a new atlas by your side, cooler full of cheez whiz and brunschwieger, if you're going to ruin the whole journey with predictable java?

The primo cup of road coffee isn't found at a place that sells CDs and tea balls. Truly fine fuel for your driving can only be purchased at a place that sells fuel for your car - the gas station. And to do it really right, find a gas station without a convenience store screwed onto it. The best road coffee, and I mean a cup of the stuff that's been sitting in a glass carafe on the burner for a couple hours, is a challenge to find, but so worth the search. Generally speaking, if the gas station is on a two-lane highway and has an oil drum for a garbage can by the door it's a good sign, and a grimy, hand-lettered sign by the drip brewer that says, "Coffee, 50 cents" means a bona fide barrista is at work.


When you pour the coffee into the cup, a few flakes of yesterday's dried-up remnants should float at the top. Packets of Coffee Mate, in plain (or amaretto and creme de menth for the BMW drivers) and a box of sugar cubes should be the condiment choices. If your lips inadvertently curl upon taking the first swig, and it leaves an oily coating in your mouth, you know you've found an honest cup of road coffee.

I like to chew my road coffee while driving, listening to any local AM radio station and watching the fence posts tick by. It tastes like adventure.