Work has sucked.
The day job anyway.
What to do?
Get on my bike and ride.
Instead of the normal 10 mile ride from the school to the home, I decided to turn right where I usually go straight.
The slight turn ultimately lead me out of town and up a canyon and up into the mountains.
Over the first summit and reverse following the path the original Mormon pioneers followed into the Salt lake Valley, I looked out across the first lake. Being Wednesday, no one was enjoying the lake that I could see.
I took the next turn and continued up higher until I reached the summit of Big Mountain at 7400ft.
I didn’t stop. I cruised the downhill side of the mountain range until it passed yet another reservoir and flattened into farmlands and a winding road strolling from one field to the next.
A quick jaunt down an interstate and another highway brought me back out of the mountains and into the populated North Davis County part of the Great Salt Lake valley.
A few more miles south and I found myself at home. A nearly 100 mile commute.
I burnt some fuel that warmed the planet .000000000000001°, but with that sacrifice I found peace in the sound of my own wheels. I watched the pines parade past. I watch the blue sky darken and threaten rain, but restrained.
I saw some deer that stayed well away from the road and I mooed at a cow and meowed at a cat that watched me roll by.
Most of all, I thought. Not of work, but of people, of projects, and my place in this thing called life. Not in a deep way, but in a soothing, relaxing, take-it-easy way.
It was also a good road test for the newly repaired bike.
The Suzuki received its official clean bill of health. And so did I.