Tossing and Tortured 'Till Dawn

I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Hunger Strike along the Interurban Trail

My ride to work is only about seventy minutes, but, even so, I get inordinately hungry over the ride.

When I got to work today, I powered down my usual bowl of oatmeal, and then got to pick over remants of the weekend's potluck -- I brought more banana bread, and then ate some fruit cobbler, but passed on the scary-looking carrot cake, which hadn't been refrigerated. When I leave work, I will be seriously hungry for dinner by the time I get home.

What gives? Training generally makes me un-hungry, and I have to struggle to eat enough granola bars and fig newtons to stay fueled up for a four-hour ride.

It took me a little while to realize I wasn't having an olfactory hallucination of tasty baked goods near my office. In fact, in industrial Kent, WA, just a few buildings over, is a big bakery. It's called somebody's fresh baked goods, and they have their own 60's looking semitrailers with cheesy logos loading up the loaves, every morning. While the heavily processed fare they cook probably isn't something I want to eat, it still smells pretty good when they are baking it by the ton.

Another mile down the Interuban trail is another loading depot of some kind, and while I don't know who owns it, the place perenially smells of muffins. Next is the massive factory for Oh Boy, O'Berto! meat products. In the summer, I actually got a little disgusted by the pervasive smell of hot dogs, and, of course, I am morally opposed to any proper noun that includes a punctuation mark. All right, you can have apostrophes and ampersands if you like, but no periods, exclamation marks, colons, or question marks.

Then there's the bridge across the Green River, which inexplicably smells like soup. Maybe minestrone? I have no idea where it's from, but I certainly hope it is not the river.

Depending upon which way I go home, I often also find myself riding past the salty air of the Tim's Potato chip factory. I'm not a big potato chip fan, but these are actually pretty decent. The factory and headquarters is probably the most exciting thing in Algona, Washington, narrowly beating out the stop sign and the well-produced website.

While not food related, if you're ever in Port Orchard, WA, check out Olympic Bike and Skate. If you get the owner talking about bike racing, make sure you've brought some snacks. You'll be there awhile.

Here's what it looks like inside. Impressive.


2 Comments:

  • At 11:43 AM , Blogger Andrew said...

    are you exercising before breakfast?
    that'd do it.

     
  • At 8:55 PM , Anonymous angelo said...

    Okay, now I know it isn't just me. I ride home on the Interurban and smell soup crossing the green river. I thought it was some homeless folks camping.

     

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