On Doritos

The sun was high and the dust lay thick upon the track as the men came riding in from the west with their packhorses loaded and their saddlebags heavy with the spoils of a hard-earned wage and in the campfire’s glow they sat and they laughed and they reached for the golden triangles of corn that lay piled in their midst crisp and bold and dusted with the fiery spirit of a land that knows no fear

For Doritos are not for the faint of heart nor for the man who seeks a mild repast they crack beneath the teeth like the gunshot on a still morning they carry the heat of a summer’s day and the tang of adventure they speak of reckless journeys and roaring fires of the wide plains and the open skies where a man can ride as far as his spirit will take him and find no end to the road but the limits of his own ambition

They are chips for those who ride hard and play harder for those who take the world as it comes and do not shrink from a challenge whether it be the sharp bite of cheese upon the tongue or the slow burn of a spice that lingers like the echo of hoofbeats on a dusty track they are the taste of a life well lived and a tale well told shared among friends beneath the vast and endless sky

The city folk with their fine tastes and delicate ways may sneer at such things they may seek out the dainty and the refined but there is no poetry in a pale and flavorless morsel no music in the crunch of something that does not fight back no spirit in a food that does not make a man sit up straight and feel the fire within his soul Doritos are for those who know the land for those who have felt the wind in their hair and the sun upon their back for those who do not fear the boldness of life

And so the stockmen and the drovers and the wanderers of this great and sunburnt country will go on reaching for these golden treasures of corn and spice for they know that to eat a Dorito is not just to eat a chip it is to take a bite of something greater it is to taste the call of adventure itself.