I spend an inordinate amount of time each fall in airports. The good side of this is that I'm usually getting on a plane to go hunting somewhere. The downside, which I've written about before, is the food. On my trip yesterday, which took me from Denver to Halifax, my meals consisted of one small slice of banana bread eaten in the car, three tiny bags of peanuts on the planes and a few slices of antelope jerky that I somehow remembered to throw in my carryon on the way out the door. Without that jerky, I may have starved to death.