As a pilot, one must submit for a medical exam once a year. It's nothing too involved -- checking eyes, ears, stable pulse etc., but you always hear crazy stories about someone going in and losing their medical due to some rare heart condition. As a pilot on the go, it's sometimes difficult to acquire the healthiest food. I've made a lot of fast food runs in airports, but we were so delayed yesterday thanks to a control tower fire alarm in Phoenix, that I didn't eat dinner until arriving in SLC after 1030pm. The captain and I went across the street from the hotel to a sports bar called Legends.
The clientele was what you'd expect to find at a bar in Salt Lake on a Thursday night. Beat-looking, possibly under the influence of illegal substances, and missing a few teeth. I had a southwest burger with peppers and the captain ordered a plate full of tater tots covered in chile verde and cheese. He suggested I try a place down the street tomorrow called Bruges Waffles & Frites. It boasts a sandwich called the machine gun that he described as a baguette with two sausages and french fries covered in sauce. I worry about the captain's medical.
I had an unusual 30 hour layover in Salt Lake City -- a place I have spent so much time in, I feel as though I've seen it all. Since I had so much time, I thought about taking the train to see an airplane museum in Ogden, but the nearest stop was still 3.5 miles away, so I'd still have to get an Uber or something. I didn't feel like doing this planes, trains, and automobiles (quite literally) adventure, so I tried to find some interesting running routes. I found a spot that might offer some good views over the city and the capital, but it would be all uphill.
The picture of the capital above was after a considerable uphill in its own right, but this was child's play compared to what was to come. My run devolved into some sort of spastic ritual of throwing one leg in front of the other as the grade steepened. The capital building which sits on a large hill looking over the city was now below me. The altitude and dryness of the air was starting to take its toll on my endurance, but I had to press on to Ensign Peak, my goal at the top of the hill.
Unknown to me until after I got back, Ensign Peak is apparently significant in Mormon history as the place where Brigham Young looked down at the valley and Salty Lake below him, had a vision, and exclaimed, "Ah ha! This is it! The promised land! Zion! Bring 'em old! Brigham Young! In my vision, I see a meth den and a Dollar General!" I paraphrase, but you get the idea. Back to my
run jog semi-brisk walk, I was struggling just to negotiate the rocky dirt path leading up to the top.
At long last, I reached the summit, making sure to run the last couple feet just for show. It did have an all-encompassing view of the valley. I could see the airport, Provo, University of Utah, and of course the capital building and downtown area. The sun wasn't in the ideal spot and most buildings were in the their own shadow. Brigham Young must have arrived in the morning. The valley didn't look as picturesque mid-afternoon, but I still took some time to marvel at the elevation gain I had just undergone and enjoy the fact that it was all downhill from here.
To appreciate the distance, here's a picture of the capital from the top. Be impressed, people! Are you not entertained? I drank an entire quart of water after I got back to the hotel. Now to decide on dinner. . . should I go back to Legends for the plate full of tater tots? I mean after that workout, I could probably even feel ok about myself eating that, but the machine gun sandwich crosses a line. Even Brigham Young did not anticipate such a travesty of cuisine unfolding below him.
