Where My True Identity as a Cat is Revealed

A few weeks ago, I suited up to do yet another long ride on my bike.  Wade was going to be gone, so my parents graciously agreed to watch the kids and I decided to bike out by them on the infamous Jordan River Parkway.

Following is a pictorial account of my ride.  Note: The pictures were drawn on my netbook using the Paint program.  They are a little...rudimentary.  Also note: the grass is not that green nor the water that blue, but as to not confuse the reader with the murky brown water and the even browner grass, I opted to keep it elementary.

I start off at 7800 S and decide to ride south.  It was pleasant.

I get about a mile and a half away and I run into a gate.  

This opens into an industrial part of Sandy and I roam the street for a while before deciding that the parkway does not connect like I thought I read online before heading out. 

So I turn around and head north

I pass the car and continue north.  Everything is going well.  Until I get to an intersection in the pathway.  I opt, at breakneck speed, to go right.

The road ends--abruptly--at the water.  I come dangerously close to falling into the Jordan River and being swept out to the Great Salt Lake.  I squeal my brakes and turn around.

Then I go left.

This road ends-abruptly-into a patch of dirt road.

I turn around and go straight.

Finally, I feel like I'm going somewhere.

But it's all a ruse.  Each time I get to a fork in the pathway, I ultimately choose the wrong pathway and I'm lead to dirt paths or into neighborhoods. Left, right, straight.  Doesn't matter.  I'm beyond frustrated.

Finally, I get to a part that is relatively easy to maneuver in.  But, then...

And I realize I'm not in Kansas anymore.  I feel very apprehensive to continue my ride considering what kind of weirdos might be hanging out on the pathway or in the grass and the apartment buildings that butt up right next to the path.

I'm led into a park and realize quickly that I am lost.  

I have no idea where I'm at.

I leave the security of the park and head to the nearest street to get my bearings.

Then I stupidly decide that I will ride the 47 blocks back to my car on surface streets.  For some reason I think I'm safer on the surface streets than on the pathway with the man in a cape and the guy in the weeds.

However...

I have to stop at every light and the sun is SO hot.  I'm melting into the asphalt.

At some point I make it  to Redwood Road and stupidly turn down it to head to 7800 S.

There are lots of cars and buses and I belatedly realize that I'm out of my element.  The weekend before, I went on a 50 mile bike ride in which I only happened upon 5 stoplights (3 in one direction then 2 turning around) and only had to stop at one.  50 miles!

But, stupidly again, I continue on my way to meet my Maker.  My first obstacle is the freeway entrances to I-215.

(Those blobs are cars).  Somehow I am headed in the line that will take me onto the freeway.  I don't want that.

So I change lanes.  On my bike.  During Saturday afternoon traffic.

And then somehow...

I am three lanes over and the freeway exit lane is spitting cars out like softballs at the batting cages and I'm going to get run over.  And some guy flips me off.  And I know that I totally deserve it because I'm riding in the middle of the road, but I can't get over to the side.

There.are.so.many.cars.I'm.going.to.die.

I might have yelled some expletives because I really thought I was going to get clobbered, but miraculously I make it to the shoulder.

I decide that I will just get to my parents on 6200 S.

And plead with my father to take me back to my car where I've left my shoes and my regular clothes and--apparently--my brain.

By some miracle I manage to make it across the three lanes of traffic relatively unscathed.

But the 30 blocks I have to travel on 6200 S have no shoulder and I am almost killed multiple times there too.

I can feel the cars rushing by me.  Sometimes, I swear, I can even feel the slightest touch of their side view mirrors.

By the time I reach my parents house I have to pry my fingers off the handlebars.  When I relay the story to my dad, he wonders out loud why I didn't  just ride on the sidewalk.

And sadly, the thought never crossed my mind.

I'm pretty sure that I burned at least 3 of my lives in just that intersection alone and probably another two on the jaunt to my parents house.  In fact, I'm probably living on borrowed time as it is.

And even just yesterday, my mom and I were driving along 6200 S and she said that she and my father still marvel at how I made it to their house without getting run over.  Secretly, I still marvel too.

My dad, ever so helpful, sent me a link today in an email that has the whole Jordan River Parkway mapped out.  He even included a little smiley face emoticon like so: (:

I didn't even know he knew how to make those.  I'm duly impressed and can see that obviously I didn't get his brains.