The lunch rides continue. And while riding the local trail network well into December is not uncommon, it is unusual to have so many people enthusiastically gathering to ride on a daily basis. I can’t be sure if it is the prospect of taking a prolonged, outdoor lunch and consequently missing a little of that afternoon slump in the office that is fueling all of these rides, or if it’s that we are all just playing off of one another’s energy. Needless to say, the riding is good. The pace we push at these meetings hardly represents mid-November. It is clear that there is no shortage of (natural) testosterone and competitive angst in our group of corporate “executives” gathering together for “important” meetings…
Singletrack is the new golf course.
It all feels very much like bonus time. The racing is over. The long summer days are long gone. Riding at this time of year is done for the sheer pleasure of it. Because the last few hours of the work day seem more tolerable after an hour or so in the dirt. Because the sideways glances of coworkers catching a whiff of the ride’s evidence wafting off of your sweaty back or seeing the caked mud on your socks are always priceless. Because riding tastes better than In-N-Out Burger*. Every morning when I crawl out of bed I pull back the shade to assess the day. Today: Clear, sunny, dry. I gather my bike clothes and add them to the car – where my bike already sits waiting, still covered in the mud from the last ride.
*I suppose I ought to be happy that In-N-Out restaurants are finally happening here along the Wasatch Front. And while there are some who find it sacrilegious that they have drifted this far north, the economics of it are a no-brainer. That is, we love our food fads here in Utah. For weeks the lone Krispy Kreme doughnut shop here was packed with people and cars. Wait times for the sugary masses of instant headaches were well into the hours. I once drove by at about 2AM – my wife was 9 months pregnant and she could not sleep, so we went for a drive (our oldest was born the next day) – and the place was packed. There was simply no concept of time for those hellbent on buying the pastries. A few years ago an In-N-Out knock off opened up in American Fork. It was an instant hit. People sat in the drive-thru for 3 or 4 hours to buy their fake double doubles. And now that the real thing is here, that food fad hysteria that grips the entire Wasatch Front is going to be increased by an order of magnitude unprecedented in food folklore. I pity the poor kid making the fries.