Take A Trip To Siberia—The Chew That Will Change Your Life.

In a few minutes I will put in a Siberia chew. This isn’t my first time, so I know what will happen. But I think part of what makes Siberia different is how fast it happens. This time I started my iPhone clock just to track the progress:

:00 seconds. The Hesitation.

Right when you’re about to try Siberia, no matter who you are, be prepared to second-guess if this is a good idea. Maybe it’s the weird Swedish (I think) writing on the plastic tin with a lid that requires a thumbnail as hard as Iron Man’s suit to open. Or maybe it’s the smell, which can only be described in one word: chemical. To be clear, nothing about Siberia smells or tastes remotely good. You should know this going in, but stick with it, because it’s the other senses where Siberia will go to work.

:30 seconds. The Burn.

I remember growing up you always heard about how Copenhagen had trace amounts of fiberglass in it. Siberia burns, but it doesn’t burn like fiberglass. It burns like a table saw. And it doesn’t take long to feel it.

2:00 minutes. Pop Rocks.

A Siberia buzz usually starts with a tingle to your forehead. This sensation quickly moves to the entire top of your head. It starts feeling like Pop Rocks have been dumped on your dome, and here comes the convertible! That’s right, shortly after the tingle it will feel like your head ends just above your eyebrows. Your scalp is either gone or open, like some sort of weird head-shaped cookie jar where you take the top off when you’re looking for another chocolate chip. It feels like you’re rolling with an open lid and your brain is exposed to the elements. It’s a “eureka!” moment, as if your brain matter has been elongated into a Twizzlers Pull ‘n’ Peel stretching to the heavens. 

3:00 minutes. The Buckle.

Right after the top of your cranium decides to exit stage left, you’ll feel it in your knees. Like a Indica (In Da Couch) gummie, if you happen to be seated, you’ll wonder if you can stand. I was brave enough to walk a short distance in my office, and I had to touch the wall to stabalize as I made my way forward.

3:00 minutes plus. Drug Stuff.

Okay, here is where it gets weird. Siberia chew will make your hands cold, enough to make you consider looking for some mittens in the front hall closet. Depending on what’s in your stomach, there is a chance for nausea as well, but for some reason all of this bad feels good.

To be fair, it does say “Extremely Strong” in English right on the container.

Okay enough with the live blog, let’s break this down scientifically. If you chew or have ever chewed, you’ve had a buzz before. But Siberia’s claim to fame is that it’ll make you feel like it’s the first time, every time.

I’d be remiss not to warn you that Siberia is no joke. I first heard rumblings about it secondhand as this chew was gaining popularity with junior hockey players. And I guess that makes sense as Siberia is basically smelling salts for your gums. 

Right now you’re reading this thinking I’m exaggerating. You’re wondering if this is a paid promo. Neither of which is true. The easiest way to dissect the Siberia phenomenon, is to look at the math. In the world of chew, there is a dividing line between the guys who mooch chews with an “I only smoke when I drink” commitment to the sport. And then there are the Olympians who buy chew, more specifically guys who buy logs of tins at a time.

Siberia logs are not for the faint of heart, or lip.

A buddy of mine chews two and a half tins of Copenhagen wintergreen long cut a week, and not only did Siberia buckle him, but he’s admitted that there have been times he had to take it out of his mouth for a break. Conveniently the top of the Siberia tin has a secret compartment, making me wonder if it was designed as a place to put your “time-out chews” and wait for them to simmer down.

Certainly I’m not telling the folks at Siberia anything that don’t know. After all, the Siberia tagline is “kicks like a mule.” I’m guessing the Siberia legal team couldn’t approve their first tagline recommendation, “dart to the neck.” Either way, you’re going to want to avoid both swimming pools and kids’ birthday parties when trying it out. 

Best I can tell, you can’t buy Siberia in America. The junior boys are bringing it down from Canada, but for the rest of us, you can pick it up at SnusDirect.com.

So, why am I compelled to write about Siberia? Mostly because it’s an unbelievable escalator and I’ve found that it provides unparalleled creative energy. You will be more productive and more creative with this little packet of rat poison in your lip. A friend of mine recently had to drive 1,250 miles on a road trip from Georgia to Minnesota. He drove his family the entire distance straight through from 5pm to 10am only stopping for gas with the assistance of two Siberias and one energy drink. Yes, Siberia is strong enough for the guys that used to drive the 18-wheelers with Yosemite Sam mud flaps. And I’m talking about the big rig guys from the Smokey and the Bandit era, not the new school guys since things have been regulated.

Certainly Siberia will not be everyone’s cup of tea. Not everyone wants to feel as if their frontal lobe is connected to a spaceship. Not everyone wants to feel like they’re stuck in a buzz illustrated by a high priced comic boom artist. We’ve all had a leg or arm fall asleep, Siberia will put your head to sleep. This isn’t a buzz it’s a buzz saw, and the cut starts about two inches down from your hairline.

I guess it makes sense a chew named after a city where the average winter temperature is minus 13 degrees would make your hands go cold. And while the sensation of cold hands takes some getting used to, it somehow adds to the danger. This cold hands sensation has prompted many of my buddies to wonder what’s actually in this stuff. It’s probably best not to ask many questions, because the taste and smell of Siberia leaves much to be desired. Even with your mask on at the airport, if you had a Siberia in your lip you wouldn’t stand a chance with the TSA dogs. 

I guess we’re writing about Siberia because it’s not that often you can get a buzz that makes you feel like one of those promotional “fly guys” that sit outside car dealerships blowing with every gust of wind. And get that buzz for a whopping $4.99. Siberia is a roller coaster buzz. They should have one of those striped sticks on SnusDirect.com to make sure you’re tall enough to go on this ride.

Whether you’re a mooch or lifelong chewer, Siberia will take you back to the sensation of your first dip. And that might be underselling it. Siberia isn’t nostalgic, it’s damn near psychedelic. Siberia is the chewing tobacco equivalent of when a shipment of heroin is so strong it’s killing people, and when word spreads of the overdoses it only makes it more popular with the tweekers. Siberia does many of the things you’ll remember from your first chew. It’s strong enough to take an introvert chatter like they are a character in a Tarantino movie, and nausea is certainly a reality as well.

Whether it’s rat poison or enough nicotine to make the Marlboro man take off his Stetson and get Nic-sick, Siberia is formulated different than any chew you’ve ever had. With most chew you worry that if you did it for an extended period that you could get cancer. With one Siberia in your lip, it feels like you’re going through chemo. I’m actually surprised my hair hasn’t started falling out in clumps. 

Until this recent chew I’d actually taken a break from Siberia. Looking for a little creative energy at work, I had made the mistake of trying it one afternoon on an empty stomach. I damn near filled the health club swimming pool later with vomit later that day. While I’ve hesitated to give Siberia a try again, I recommend it for a few reasons. Obviously the first being that it feels like the first time, and it’s not every day you get to win $500 on your first visit to the casino. 

I recommend Siberia not because it’s good, but because it’s extreme. I’ve been fortunate enough to try a few things in my life from bungy jumping to sky diving and swimming with sharks. But as far as buzzes go, Siberia is the real deal. It’s different. And in today’s world where risk has seemingly been removed from the equation, it’s worth doing just for then fact that you can get a weapons grade wallop and a hollow point high that will leave your head splattered if only for a few minutes. Siberia is an experience onto itself, and should be treated accordingly. You’re going to want to clear your schedule and maybe bring the puke bucket mom used to set next to your bed.

Siberia is the unquestioned Six Flags of chew. Give it a try, and don’t say I never did anything for ya!