My Weekend...

This week I was maybe a little foolish in my physical exertions. I got an email from Josh Chambers on Wednesday saying Jordan Singleton and his wife were living at his parents this summer before going to med school in Wisconsin. He was going out of town this coming week and Jordan was leaving soon after, and he wanted to get together for lunch. So, Thursday afternoon I was sitting around doing nothing and decided to look up the UTA routes to see how far north I could get on my bus pass. Turns out there was a commuter bus that runs from the train in Ogden to Brigham City. I figured I could ride my bike over Sardine Canyon, so I immediately packed my bag and dashed out the door. I only had about seven minutes to ride from my place down to the Salt Lake station on 6th west, but surprisingly the lights almost all went in my favor and I made the train.

The Frontrunner takes about an hour to go from Salt Lake to Ogden. From there the bus took like an hour to get from Ogden to the intersection of 11th South and Main in Brigham City. That's the light you never make when coming down out of the canyon on the way to I-15. I got off of the bus at about 3:Something in the afternoon. It didn't take me a really long time to figure out that I might have been a little foolish to go at this time. It was very hot, about 93 degrees, and I probably didn't have enough water in my bottle. It was a hard ride.

By the time I got to the Stake Center Hill in Millville I'd had it, and I walked up it. When I got to the top I went over to Jordan's parents house. Jordan was in and we sat around and talked all evening while he worked on a commercial appraisal for his dad. His dad is an appraiser. Anyway I spoke and spoke and spoke. It's weird for me. Jordan is actually becoming pretty good with probing questions. He was a dual major in psych and philosophy, and I think the idea is that he's going to med school to do psychiatry. It's kind of funny because he didn't believe in it at all when we were kids. I remember waking up in the night once when we were having a sleepover at his house when we were kids. I was having a small panic attack and was getting ready to go home. He was angry, (this was what happened about every time I slept over in those days), and he said, "It's all in your head!" It's interesting to see him choose this line of work.

Anyway, we ended up playing Wii (my first time) till like 1:00AM, then made plans to go to lunch with Josh the next day, and I went home. Jordan can be a little ADD, and I couldn't get a hold of him Friday and I had his cell phone number down wrong. I didn't know Josh's number, and I didn't think to simply look his law offices number in the book. So, instead I spent the day working on that old Peugeot that I'm converting to a single speed. I actually got it more or less running, but then I decided to true the back tire. A spoke broke and that ended the project till I can get some new ones. After that I spent a few hours working on cleaning out the trench in yard where I shall soon lay the foundation for the rock wall I'm going to try to finish before going back to school. So that was good, but involved more dehydration and very hot weather.

The slept poorly that night and decided in the morning that sooner was better than later for riding home. I had to pick my Mom and Dad up at the airport at about 8:30PM, and I was thinking of sticking around till the afternoon to see of Jordan and Josh would want to get together, but instead I just left. I rode out around 9:15, and found that Sardine Canyon is easier from the Cache Valley side. You can see on the elevation graph on the route map that you descend more than you climb when going from Cache to Brigham.

Anyway, I figured on catching the bus back at that intersection, but when I arrived I was feeling pretty good. I could ride on down highway 89 I thought. I would have to sit around for 45 mins if I waited for the bus there. Why not ride on to the next stop, then the next if I was ahead of the schedule. So I did, and eventually I was thinking, "I could just ride into Ogden to the station."

About the south side of Willard I lost it. I was done, and I guessed that the bus should be coming soon. The stops were a few miles apart now, and I stopped and waited at a couple before going on. It was too hot and I was too sore to stand in the open on the side of the highway. My legs started cramping when I did. In my head, also, was a voice saying, "Ride on. Ride on. Be a man. Make some progress. It's only about 10 miles to go." I was thinking about riding with my Dad when I was a kid. We'd be dying, but he rode on and on. I always thought of rides in increments, but for him it seemed to be binary. Either you were done or you weren't, and you weren't done until you reached your destination. So he'd ride on, and on, and on.

So I was riding on, and was in between two bus stops in Harrisville when the bus passed.

I stopped at a Chevron and lay on the grass under a tree until my heart stopped racing. When I got up I was sore all over, so I finished my water bottle and went in to refill it, then got back on my bike and rode. I play these tricks on my mind when I'm riding. I say, "Man, I'm tired, but I can make it to that mile marker up there. Then I'll decided whether to stop and rest." When I reach that point I convince myself that I'm fine, that in fact I'm getting a second wind. So with that renewed energy I choose the next mile marker. I tried doing that with the stop lights, which in Harrisville and North Ogden are relatively far apart, but my body kept betraying my mind. I was done, and no manner of mind trick was going to change it. But I didn't have a choice so I kept going.

I was feeling kind of foolish. Somewhere there's a picture of Peter, Dad, and I in Roy getting back on our bikes. I was probably like ten. That day we rode all the way from home to Salt Lake. I'd managed that at ten, and here I was, almost thirty and dragging myself into Ogden. It felt a little pitiful. But I got there.

I had forty-five minutes until the next train left so I went into a gas station Burger King. I figured I could buy some food and wait in the air conditioning. I should have known better than to choose Burger King. I don't know if I've ever enjoyed anything I've bought there. I bought a hamburger, a chicken sandwich, and a small chocolate shake from the value menu, and went to sit down and watch CNN on the wall TV. I got through the shake and it gave me a little stomach ache. I probably consumed it too fast. But I'd bought the sandwiches and felt obligated to eat them. I started with the hamburger. I think it was about 30% bun, 10% meat, 1% cheese, and 59% mustard (0% ketchup). It oozed out all over the place, and eating it was unpleasant. The stomach ache grew. The chicken sandwich was similarly comprised, but substitute mayo for mustard. I made it half way through and knew I couldn't take anymore. I imagined I was throwing two quarters away as I all went in the garbage. It gave me a twinge of guilt, but it was a fair price not to have to keep eating.

Anyway, I got on the train and went home after that, but I'm bored of the relation of this story. So that's all you get.