Parleys Canyon Riders: Mission Impossible

This week’s ride was billed by the BIG MAN as a “little adventure”. We were to leave the “Hood” at 6:45 (an hour of the day the little man has never witnessed since he left the farm), ride to Banbury Cross for a donut (that is why I ride), catch the 7:11 Front Runner train to Orem and witness the majesty of the snowcapped Mount Timpanogos. The adventure was off to an inauspicious start at the planning stage. BIG MAN, did you really think you could travel on your bike from your house, graze on a donut and make the 7:11 train in 21 minutes (roughly 8 miles)? Most of the PCRs could see the fatal flaw in the so-called “plan” from the beginning and decided to form what the BIG MAN called a splinter group (hey BIG MAN, there is only one splinter in this group, it is lodged firmly in the derriere of each PCR, and if anyone is wondering who it is, I will give you a hint: his last name is a dead giveaway) that would begin their ride at a more urbane hour of 8:30, avoid the deadly city traffic and caloric intake at the donut shop. Only the BIG MAN and the WHINER went on the “little adventure” (of course that is because no one in the splinter group told the WHINER about their ride). After hurtling through the city at a reckless rate of speed, stopping by the donut shop, and traveling four blocks on a flat tire, we arrived at the train station at 7:14. Problem was the train left at its scheduled time 15 minutes earlier. So even if the Splinter’s “plan” worked the train would have been missed. Dejected and dismayed he sat on the park bench, ate his donut and remarked: “If you fail to plan, you plan to fail”, to which the WHINER responded: “No, you planned. If you fail to plan properly, you will fail.” Undaunted, the trekkers grabbed the next Trax to Draper. As the train pulled away from the station, in a northerly direction (Draper is south, in case you were wondering), it looked like they were in for an extended “little adventure”. Come to find out it would take the train over an hour to arrive in Draper, so after 15 minutes they departed from the train ride and made it back to the “hood” to join the wiser and more sane part of the PCRs.

At the top of Emigration Oaks the BIG MAN sneaked away in advance of the group so he could claim victory on the downhill part of the ride (what a sport). At the bottom Bruner queried : “Where is Wood?”, to which the WHINER responded: “he took off ahead of the group.” “I’m glad you told me” said the good hearted Bruner, “I would have been waiting all day for him.” “Funny”, remarked the WHINER, “the BIG MAN would not have waited a second for any of the PCRs.” Along the way Jensen, a guy who probably has an IQ greater than the combined IQs of the rest of the PCRs (okay, professor, you are excluded), had a flat tire. It is a simple procedure to repair one. Every American man, woman and child is born with an innate ability to fix a flat tire, even with his or her eyes closed. And Jensen graduated from the University of Bike Mechanics. So you would think he would have no problem fixing it. But no, he feigned ignorance and someone else had to do it. It turns he is also smart like a fox. He acts like he cannot perform the simple task so he does not get grease beneath his fingernails. The TATS was given by the Professor. He offered to give a substance with the appearance and scent of an unmentionable bodily fluid to the person whom the group agreed told the worst tale of woe he encountered during the week. Of course the WHINER won when he remarked: “I followed Wood this morning”. In light of the forgoing, I think I like Pres. Bush’s muffed quote: “fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on you.” Thank you Wood for being fuel for the fire. We love you man!