Tyler's Big Adventure

So, perhaps I was inspired by the Biking Salas' big plans to bike 100 miles this July 13th (Why do I keep thinking that I have something going on that day other than this bike race...?) and so I decided to go on a biking adventure myself. Well it all started Tuesday night at about 10:43 pm just as I was about to fall asleep....

...I instead decided to ride my bike to Houston. Yes, you read that correctly, Houston. It only takes about three hours to fly, and it only took Angela and Jeff a few days to drive there so I figured I could bike there in a few short months (or 124 hours according to Google Maps).

I later came up with a better idea, I would just ride my bike to the Salt Lake International Airport (or SLC for those of you people who happen to know airport codes like you are going onto Orbitz daily to see if flights to Paraguay(who's airport code is ASU in case you were wondering) have just magically happened to drop below a million and a half dollars) then I could ride my bike from George Bush International Airport (IAH) to Angela and Jeff's house and it would basically be like riding my bike to Houston. Brilliant!

So off I go to the SLC airport...and what seemed like a split second later....there I am riding my bike down the freeway headed towards downtown Houston, Texas! It was crazy!

There were cars zooming past me, the sun was hot and beating down on me (direct quote from Jeff on 03/31/13, "Oh we had winter here, I think it got down to about 60 degrees...it was pretty cold) and as I looked up, I could see all the big tall buildings that inhabit the downtown area (I have an unusual fascination for big tall buildings...I'm sorry but they are cool!).

As I was riding along enjoying the sun and the tall buildings, I was however, a bit nervous about all the other homeless bikers that were riding on the freeway with me. Yes, I'm sure you have heard about them on the news; the out of control homeless bicycle population that is taking over the freeway systems of Houston.

I just thought to myself, "It’s ok, if I just keep going fast enough, they won't catch me and I'll be ok. I just hope I don't get a flat tire." Well, I jinxed myself because just then, I got a flat tire.

As I sat there on the shoulder with numerous Texan drivers passing me on the freeway (direct quote from a Texan driver at Surfside Beach, "Hey bro! Y'all peacin'?! Y'all peacin'?!") an older woman and her slightly younger homeless biker daughter rode up alongside me. I thought I was about to die....when she asked me about my flat tire (now as she talks, think of the witch on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs talking) "What's that? You got yourself a flat tire there!" I was terrified, I thought the next words out of her mouth would be, "and now you're about to get killed!" but to my relief she said, "I can fix that!" and came over and stitched, yes she stitched it all right, needle, thread, the whole nine yards, what looked like a Band-Aid over the hole in my tire.

Now the hole was fixed, but I still didn't have any air. Now by this time, another homeless biker (I told you they were taking over!) this time a middle-aged man with graying hair and a graying beard had rode up to us too. He said, "well, whatcha y'all gonna do now? Y'all got it patched, but Y'all ain't got no air!" little did he know that I had come prepared. Here he was thinking that an Eagle Scout was just going to ride his bike to Houston unprepared, I showed him. "Oh don't worry." I told him, "I have here strapped to my bike a fire extinguisher attached to a blow dryer (again, brilliant!)." The man, the old woman and her slightly younger daughter looked at me in amazement as I attached the blow dryer to the tire and squeezed the trigger on the fire extinguisher and inflated my tire to the ideal PSI. "Wow!" the old woman said, "maybe I might just get me a blow dryer now!" I hopped on the seat and started pedaling as fast as I could so this gang of homeless bikers wouldn't have the chance to change their mind about helping me and continued on my way.

I came to an intersection that read, "Exit Kirby Street" on the left and "Exit San Antonio" to the right.

Well, I knew that Angela and Jeff didn't live in San Antonio, and I was pretty sure the street to get to their house was called Kirby, so I darted across at least four lanes of traffic and took that exit. Right after getting off the exit, I was lucky enough to find Angela and Jeff waiting for me in their car (Christine must have been in San Antonio). I hopped in and Jeff just laughed and laughed about the idea of me riding my bike to Houston, and away we went to get me a drink at their apartment when....

...at 7:15am Wednesday morning, I awoke to my alarm going off.

Maybe tonight I'll ride to Missouri...