Friday, November 23, 2007

The Turkinator Meets The Heinous Hills

Umm, there like used to be a lake here. I guess we have to call it Canyon Canyon now.

Good people of townsville! At this very minute, the good citizens of our fair metropolis are held within the caloric clutches of the turkinator. He struck yesterday afternoon on what would otherwise be a pleasant day off of work. Mild mannered Paul, caught unawares, ate and ate, and so fell into the influence of the evil turkinator! All was not lost however, Mild Mannered Paul's alter ego, "must get out and train man", planned ahead. Knowing the devious mind of the turkinator and his creepy caloric sidekicks Pie and Ice Cream, he had devised a scheme which would send the turkinator packing. A workout so taxing, so brutal, so tough, that not even the turkinator with his evil force of cellulite enhancing side dishes could withstand the fury. Only one route could be so brutal, so tough, so taxing. Yes, ladies and gentlemen "must get out and train man" had deemed that the dire circumstances demanded a trip to the end of the pavement.

"The end of the pavement" you say (in a voice completely unimpressed)? Well, those of you who may have a lemon shaped mountain in your back yard, perhaps do not fear the turkinator, but a ride capable of killing the turkinator within cycling distance of east Mesa is the trip to the end of the pavement. Those of you who have ridden the legends, superstitions and ruins permanent will be familiar with part of this, with the exception of the 1200 foot hill behind Tortilla Flat. Yes, as you see on the chart below, "must get out and train man" determined that only the hill up to the end of pavement could stem the evil tide of the turkinator.

In the predawn hours, a chill was in the air and "must get out and train man" was shivering in the cold. He had his mighty k2 light on and the mighty cateye el500 blasting photons into the night. The special arm and leg warmers our hero had drawn from his secret stash of super hero clothing was barely adequate. Traffic was busier than usual at 5:30 as the unsuspecting victims of the turkinator languished behind the wheels of their automobiles.
The climbing started in earnest when our hero turned onto the Apache Trail and started up the first of the big hills, although compared to the two larger hills this one would soon be over, but not before Mr. Stuffing had met his Demise. No matter how hard our hero tried though his fingers were still numb though he climbed and burned off the evil turkinator's evil henchman. Descending into canyon lake our here started to shiver and shake as he sped to the canyon where once there was a lake. The lake has been drained for the dam to get some work done on it.
Upon reaching the lake our hero met up with another enemy of the evil calory cretins. He was a racer looking for his group he was riding with. Truth be known, he beat our hero to the end of the pavement, but I think our man in spandex may have a few pounds up on him and well, I don't think he succombed to the Turkinator's foul plan as seriously as mild mannered Paul had. After a medium sized hill, "must get out and train man" was sizing up his task. The final hill, the doozy, the one people raise an eyebrow at if you mention it. Yes, it was time to make the 1200 foot climb to the end of the pavement. 5 miles and 1 hour of pain later, would our here triumph? Would the evil Turkinator meet his demise? and what of the despicable pie and ice cream?

What hill can repel "must get out and train man"? Surely he was not to be beaten back and defeated? No, our hero had a trick up his sleave, it was the secret triple chainring of Shimano. Sent from far across the see from our friend Professor Suzuki who had been so helpfull in ridding the world of Mothra, and helping Godzilla and Gamera. Yes, "must get out and train man" had his full arsenal of tools and boldy shifted to his secret weapon, the 30 tooth chainring. Slowly but surely he gnawed away at the hill piece by piece. Destroying the evil pie and ice cream, slice by slice, and scoop by scoop. On he climbed as if up to the very sky. The turkinator could not withstand the onslaught and by the top of the hill an hour later, had been crippled. A brief rest was enjoyed by our hero as he shot down the mountain at 40 miles an hour despite sitting upright and trying to be un-aerodynamic. Then, at the bottom of the hill, a scent sent a shiver up our heros spine and he looked on in horror.

The restaurant at Tortilla flat had a smoke cloud hovering over it and out into the road. Someone was grilling something. Something tasty, something that smelled good. Something that would sit well on an empty stomache that had just been to the end of the pavement. Yes, it smelled like the evil steak and eggsinator. Our hero sped up, not only was he strapped for cash but his duel with the turkinator had left him weak and an encounter with the steak and eggsinator would leave him weak and helpless. So on he sped, desperately trying to free himself of the deadly aroma of the steak and eggs. Steak and eggs....... mmmmmm.

Leaving Canyon lake, the turkinator met his last dieing blows. Our hero had climbed 5700 feet and burned thousands of calories and smashed the evil turkinator in his anaerobic fury. Mild mannered Paul was once again safe to journey into the kitchen, no more to fear the evil turkinator until next year.

Coming next week, "Must get out and train man" meets the evil and mysterious Hon e. Bakedham and the second helpings.

1 comment:

Bruce's Bike Blog said...

Why am I hungry after reading this?
You are a better man than i not to have stopped fer steak 'n eggs!