My friend Noah Pointed out that I had omitted an important part of my humiliation cycle my junior year during spring break so I will include those stories now. I don't recall exactly being invited to ride with the older set of drafting class cronies to Moab for spring break but somehow I was included. I think I may have sort have invited myself because it sounded fun. Either way I was all set to go for a couple of days of riding the slick rock trails of Moab and hanging out with some pretty cool guy who may or may not have been entirely on board with my inclusion. The trip was planned in a rather convoluted way because some of the kids had to stay and work and could only come later so we decided to head down first, ride a little and camp and then when the other boys could join us they would. I didn't have a working bike at the exact moment that we were going to leave but a friend of mine who was coming later in the week said I would take mine down on the first wave in the truck and he would just use it when he joined us. Sounded easy, too easy as it turned out. We arrived early enough in the day to ride the trail before we made camp and it was really awesome for about the first four hundred feet when my borrowed bike went ahead and pooped the med mechanically. One of the cable sheaths that kept tension on the back derailleur split wide open and shifted me into the hardest gear. I went from a pretty reasonable 21 speeds to a way too hard three speed. Also I was a little worried about how mad the bike's owner was going to be because I had technically been on his bike when it broke. Anyone would agree that there is nothing a gear shifting person could do to blow that part up but none the less it was still blown up and in bike heaven with all the other pretty bike part angels. The rest of the trail was grueling because I couldn't down shift on climbs. There are also sand-traps all along the trail that I didn't know about and I bashed off into a couple so as to not become overly elated about my torturous ride. I was way behind the group by the time I finished and I remember one of the kids being pretty cranky about that. We loaded up and went and made camp out by the river and cooked dinner when it was time for bed I went into someones smallish tent and slept fitfully through the night. I woke up really early and tried some fishing which didn't work and then we waited for the other guys to arrive. The didn't. In these dark ages before cell phones we were racking our brains about how to get in touch with them. Someone, not I, decided to call one of the other boys family, collect, from a payphone and tell them where we were in the hopes they would think to call in and get the information. After a couple of calls like that they got dialed in and we met them at our camp. The kid whose bike I borrowed was really pissed that his bike was broken. He sassed me and insulted my riding and asked what the hell I had done to break it like that. Nothing was the answer and I was being unjustly targeted for punishment but I felt so bad I didn't protest. A couple of guys went with him into town and tried to find a replacement but if I remember right they didn't at any of the local bike shops. He was then subjected to the same power biking nightmare that I had to go through the day before. I spent the day hanging out with some rock climbers I had met and climbed a few of the dirtiest routes known to man. I had a great time that day and by night fall when we met back at camp maybe all was forgiven or at least there was no more open hostility and camping with funny guys after a good day outside is about as good as it gets.