Mom and pops
It's a new world in trucking, no doubt. And some say that new has got to be better. New technology, new pay scales, new truck stops, all have their advantages.
Still, while progress may bring efficiency, productivity and disposable income to the road warrior, there remains much to be said for the old ways, the old values, the old-road style.T
hat style is what distinguishes the Mom and Pop truck stops from the big chains. While all the amenities and bright lights are fine, there remains a place in the ever lovin', pea pickin' hearts of many drivers for a taste of the past.
By Tim Barton
ome of the small stops are places you find by accident or necessity. They turn out to have the best coffee you’ve had in a while, or they have a meatloaf that will remind you of Grandma’s. At the very least, they won’t have the same menu you find at every big chain wherever you are in this vast country.
That is a great deal of their appeal – they are different. They’re small, unique and they are reminiscent of a simpler, if less convenient, time.
That being said, it cannot be denied they are sometimes difficult to find. The big road is crowded with the chain stops and the big independents, leaving the skinny two lanes to the old-fashioned stops where parking is at a premium, not because there are too many trucks but because the lot is small and unpaved. Still, that makes the walk to the restaurant shorter, and you can save your energy to push yourself away from the table.
On the other hand, there are very well-known stops, like Lee Hi, in Lexington, VA, that retain a unique atmosphere while offering services to rival the mega-chain truck stops.
Berky’s Restaurant inside the Lee Hi has good food and a unique theme. It is filled with truck models and large model toys. Eating there is like eating in a toy store – plenty of eye candy when you choose to look up from your plate. It is so appealing that Santa Claus eats there, probably ruminating about next Christmas and stuffing his sleigh with model trucks and airplanes.
So, while the coffee wars rage along the interstate, the big chains pouring out new coffee blends to counter the guy across the street, the little pit stops give an honest meal at an honest price and the coffee ain’t bad, either.
Prices are up everywhere, but less so in the small, out-of-the-way places where you can make a little progress on your taxes. What with the IRS giving truck drivers $52 a day now for food, the less you spend, the better off you are now and at tax time, too. Forget the food receipts and take the 52 bucks, unless you eat like two horses.
Take the Old Rig Diner on I-90 in Oak Ridge, WI. I decided this past Thanksgiving to have my meal early and settled on the steak and eggs for breakfast. If I remember right, it came in around $8 and was plenty good and plenty big.
Why years ago, when a hand could spend less than $15 a day for food and eat enough to keep moving, that kind of price was still a bargain. Nowadays, you can afford to smile at the waitress and give her a little extra and still feel like you made out just fine. And you won’t leave hungry.
To be honest, there is no widespread, popular, road culture definition for the Mom and Pop anymore. It may be the originals were run by Mom and Pop. Well, that’s changed, as all things must, and the definition of a Mom and Pop has had to expand until it has almost no definition at all. You’ll find places like Grandma’s on I-69 in Morocco, IN, a big barn of a place with “Grandma’s” writ large across the roof.
Then there are places that aren’t really truck stops at all unless you’re stuck somewhere waiting for a load – or for your 34 to crawl to completion and you’re bobtailing looking for something to do. At that point, the fact that you can park your horse makes where you are a truck stop. You’ve just defined a Mom and Pop, at least for your here and now.
If you grew up with a grandmother who had doilies everywhere and a fireplace in the parlor, why then, you will feel right at home at Granny’s in Frackville, PA. It’s an especially nice place to find if you team with your wife or significant other. And, if you have the chance, there’s even a wine list you can take advantage of.
Some places are novelties, like the 901 Pub at the junction of I-81 and 901 in Pottsville, PA. This is a real find because there is nothing else around. If you’re there, you’re probably there to deliver and pick up at the big distribution center up the hill. And, you’re going to be there long enough to take your 10 or figure out how to split your log if the loads come out sooner than you thought. About the only thing that you could do to the 901 Pub to make it into a truck stop is to take the airplane out of the roof and insert a truck.
Like the 901, not all these places qualify as truck stops. Some are not 24/7 operations. They don’t have a store. They don’t have showers. They don’t have a garage. They may simply be restaurants with big parking lots. That might be as close as you can come to defining the remaining Mom and Pops on the American highway.
It doesn’t matter, really, as long as the coffee is poured into a bottomless cup and the food reminds you of home.
That is really what Moms and Pops are about – that comfort level and the sense of having found a place you’d like to get back to on the flip-flop. Flip and flop to the Mom and Pop.
On I-68 in West Virginia, just south of Morgantown, there’s Little Sandy’s. It’s a free-standing restaurant with about 10 parking spots, a fuel island, and the best raisin cookies you’ll get south of the Mason-Dixon. The coffee is good and under a buck. Try the ostrich and get a couple bags of those cookies for traveling on. You’ll need them headed east on that road.
If you get over to the shore, just at the north end of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, there’s a place you can get the local seafood or just chow down on the usual. Most of the time you don’t find local dishes much, unless you get to some fancy place with a chef who likes to capitalize on the local color. But that’s not the case here. So, if you like fish, this place is a find. It’s called Sting Ray’s.
In the South, there are more places that like to serve up their version of barbecue. At the Bull’s Gap exit on I-81 in Tennessee, between Kingsport and Knoxville, there’s a little joint behind one of the ubiquitous Mickey D’s. It’s called Tony’s Barbecue Resaurant. It has plenty of parking, fuel and Tony’s got a wrecker service attached to his restaurant. That way you can get towed in – and if you’re a big eater, towed out.
I had the pulled pork and felt the tug of home to be sure. You can tell from the signs there are plenty of ways to get your protein. Catfish, chicken, beef all served up Southern style. Like Sting Ray’s, it’s one of those places you remember because the food comes from the region itself.
Sometimes the sign on the highway will take you to a get-off you weren’t planning to take. You never know how far you’ll have to go off the big road to get your pants tightened.
Well, I ran across this little place in Illinois the other day that is less than a mile off the interstate and has a big lot and good prices, and a highly satisfying bowl of cauliflower soup. I’m betting you will remember this place for its turtle cheesecake, though, if you want to indulge after a good meal. Sometimes it’s worth taking the chance to get off the big road, and the Farmer City Cafe in Farmer City, off 74 between Champaign and Bloomington, is worth the stop for a change of pace.
Once you start looking for little places to eat where the food isn’t always the same, they seem to appear. It adds a lot to the road life to find one and when you don’t need the convenience and the services of the big chain stops, knowing where there’s a Mom and Pop can make your day.
Sometimes you can find a restaurant on the interstate that isn’t a Mom and Pop, like a Denny’s. There’s one east of Columbus on I-70 that’s made up like an old-fashioned diner. If you’re of an age, let’s say before hip hop and rap and after big band, you will find some comfort there. The food is Denny’s and the atmosphere is nostalgic, and there’s nothing like a little blast from the past to make your day a little brighter.
My vote for the purest and simplest Mom and Pop in the group: Little Sandy’s, ostrich steak and all, at the Bruceton Mills exit on I-68 in West Virginia.
