h earns his breakfast

H has been putting a lot of miles on his bike lately.  It's very impressive.  To encourage his training, I suggested that perhaps on Sunday he might want to bike from our house to the top of Emigration Canyon: 23.6 miles with an elevation gain of 1,864 feet, mostly at the very end.  Then I could drive up there (what? I'm certainly not going to ride my bike to the top of a canyon) and then we could have breakfast at Ruth's Diner together to celebrate.

I gave him a 45 minute head start, finally passing him about two-thirds of the way up the canyon.  He was cranking, though, because by the time I got up to the top, parked the car and pulled out my book, I hadn't gotten through more than ten pages before he crested the summit.  [Edited to add: H thinks I may be casting aspersions on his prowess as a cyclist, what with the "ten pages" comment. However, not only am I a wicked fast reader but the book I was reading I've read many times before, is a YA fantasy novel and has large-ish print.  So "not more than ten pages" truly means "H was riding up the canyon really quickly."]

Being a gorgeous holiday weekend and all, it was packed at Ruth's, although we waited less than 15 minutes before we were seated.  For me (since I hadn't ridden 23.6 miles): the fruit, granola and yogurt parfait; for H (because he had): eggs, bacon, sausage, sourdough toast and cheesy homefries.  And I even paid.