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Salt Lake City, UT to Tremonton, UT 90.79
miles The light turns red on a Salt Lake street and the six bikers dressed to look like each other roll to a stop. The leader is riding a bright green bicycle with different colored rims and always looks a bit anxious to be on his way. Next to him idles a dirty cranberry pick-up waiting, like he, for the light to change. The green-bicycled biker turns to the passenger of the pick-up with a winning smile and blurts, “You going to Canada?” “No,” replies the passenger after a nervous glance to the driver.
“We are,” the biker retorts lightheartedly and accelerates
through the intersection, the changing light ending a potentially
awkward situation.
That rather strange but heartwarming exchange between a non-Canada
bound pick-up passenger and who I’m sure you’ve all guessed was
none other but Dan is just one of the many interesting anecdotes
conceived daily. So keep
coming back for more tall tales from the road. A bit more on today: First of all, we’re not in shape. We’re not even skirting the edges of in-shapeness. Somehow, however, we made it the 90 miles alive. No, I err. Not “somehow.” We know how. I think it was because Fred, Andrew’s 57-year-old SuperDad, made us young whippersnappers look like T-ballers. We made it, though, notwithstanding our weakness and arrived in Tremonton at around five in the afternoon. Candy Berthrong, Andrew’s mother, was there waiting with the best sandwiches man has yet tasted and drove us back to Logan for an incredible meal that any description would cheapen. Until tomorrow…
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| day 3 | |||
