During our stay in Coldfoot, Alaska we didn’t have much choice in where we dined. Ordering a pizza would’ve cost a few thousand dollars in delivery fees. The nearest burrito was hours away and far too alien to this snowy town.

Thankfully, there was the Coldfoot Cafe or whatever it’s called.

This quaint truck stop located directly across from our hotel/cabin/lodge thing offered us many meals during the time we stayed north of the Arctic Circle. Without any other choice, we spent three days eating nothing but trucker food. While our taste buds thank us, our waistlines are on suicide watch.

Before even arriving in Coldfoot, our tour bus stopped for lunch at around 3pm along the Yukon River. I know Alaska is a few hours behind everywhere else in the US. Still, a 3pm lunch seems kind of late. Most elderly people are tucked into bed by then. Since we were literally in the middle of nowhere, there wasn’t a choice. It was either eat their soups and sandwiches or steal Goldfish crackers from our fellow passengers.

At this stop we shared a pork sandwich and an Alaskan salmon soup. The food was nothing special. If that’s the best they can do, I’m almost surprised there aren’t more cannibals in Alaska.

Our next trucker meal happened shortly after arriving in Coldfoot. Jenny ordered a burger and I got a chicken burger, which was just some chicken strips with melted cheese on it placed between two hamburger buns. Of course, as bees do, we shared our meals. It was a hardy, filling meal that surely took at least a few months off the end of our lives.

The following morning is when we really felt like burly men who don’t follow the law. I indulged in a dish which included French toast, eggs, and sausage. Meanwhile, Jenny ate a nation’s worth of pancakes and two tiny reindeer sausages.

For lunch, heck, we skipped lunch I think. This was the afternoon we went dog sledding so we ate an early dinner instead. As you can imagine, Jenny was able to wait after destroying her Paul Bunyan sized flapjack.

This dinner we decided to share a salad and an order of chicken fingers and French fries. The male waiter with a ponytail (after seeing the jump rope dangling from the back, I almost regretted calling him “sir”) warned us that the salad was pretty big. He didn’t lie. Chopping up that salad probably stole away many homes from Alaskan wildlife. I think even without the chicken fingers and fries to supplement our cruel attempt at dieting, we would’ve been satisfied. I’m also fairly certain no truck driver has ever ordered a salad before hence why they were able to make one so big.

The following morning we got another big breakfast. I think this was the most massive of any. Jenny got another pancake with bacon. I got some eggs with biscuits and this weird white stuff on it. I wish I could remember exactly what it was or describe it better. Just so you know I didn’t eat anything too exotic, my mouth isn’t pregnant.

That was the end of our trucker meals. The rest of the food we ate was nearer to civilization. We piggied a lot more, though. On Thanksgiving whilst still in Fairbanks, our dinner included deli sliced turkey purchased from the local Walgreen’s, some trail mix, and a big bag of Almond Joy. We also ate a hot meal purchased from a nearby grocery store and pigged out whenever else we could.

Earlier today, Jenny told me I look like I lost weight. After she reads this and remembers, I hope she gets her eyes examined.