Sometime around spring break, maybe, Louis and I pledged to ride to his grandma’s cabin after school got out. She lives near the St. Croix Forest-the route we chose is about 120 miles, with maybe 20 of them on gravel.

So June 1st, after a week of brutally hot weather, rain, and humidity, the skies cleared for a perfect 77 degree day and we rolled out.

But before I talk about the ride, let me talk about the 12 hours leading up to it.

I work at Domo Ramen, a quaint ramen shop in Northeast Minneapolis-unfortunately, I was scheduled for both Friday and Saturday night. For a week and a half I kept trying to get the shifts taken, but after contacting each and every one of my coworkers by Wednesday, I had only gotten one of them off.

“I’ll get it off,” I told Louis, “She’ll go.”

He didn’t believe it.

Wednesday night, though, a miracle: a new trainee at Domo graduated to server. She showed up on the scheduling app that morning, and I shot her a message. Then nothing. I worked Thursday morning, and then rode with Louis that afternoon. I sent a follow up message-she said that she worked the day shift at her other job.

Louis thought I was screwed-but it was only the day shift-only a minor hiccup. I asked her if there was some way in the universe that she would take it-she brushed it off.

I followed up once, then again. Still nothing.

Emma had come over and eaten dinner with us, then left, and there was still no response. I packed my bag to throw in her car, even though she said it wasn’t even worth it, as I would clearly not get this shift off. Right before she left, I threw the hail Mary: “I’ll deadass give you $50.”

I left my phone in the apartment as Louis and I walked Emma to her car. Walking, we all said an only-slightly-tongue-in-cheek prayer.

When I got back, she had responded: “ok i’ll do it.”

My dad is not a religious man in the slightest, but always tells us a bible quote whenever we doubt his abilities/capabilities/skills: “O ye, of little faith.” I wanted to scream it from the rooftops at that moment.

So 9:30 me and Louis pumped up our tires, filled our pockets with Clif bars, and rolled out. We rode through sunny Saint Paul, then North Saint Paul, to our first coffee stop in Marine on St. Croix. From there, we rolled along Interstate State Park (seems a bit redundant) to Taylor’s Falls.

Taylor Falls we stopped for Gatorade, peanut butter chocolate rice krispies, and a photo-op of the dam. We crossed the St. Croix into Wisonsin, checked the time and realized that we were behind schedule-so we rolled, rolled and rolled.

We hit an incredible stretch of gravel, curving through the countryside at right angles. Halfway through, I felt my wheel going a little flat. We pulled over.

“You got CO2?” I asked.

“I thought you had some!” Louis appeared agitated.

“Of course I don’t! Thats why I asked!”

Better prepared and we never would’ve made it.

The next 10 miles I was on edge, scared that I would flat again. By the time we hit the hamlet of Grantsburg, my anxiety was assuaged with an equally unpleasant feeling of panging hunger. At the Mini-Mart, I got:

Gatorade, Peanut butter M+Ms, and a jumbo bag of chex mix.

And later, after I decided that wasn’t enough:

Two (2) hard boiled eggs, and one large chocolate chip cookie.

Rolling out of Grantsburg, we hit a little more gravel and I mostly pulled until the 90 mile mark. Then I cracked. Louis took over. We didn’t talk. I tried to close my eyes as much as possible.

If I got to 100 miles, I knew I could make it. Once I got to 100 miles, I thought if I got to 110 miles, I knew I could make it.

At 105 miles, Louis and I silently agreed to pull over, just to take a 10, maybe 15 minute break from pedaling.

Then it was game over. I was bonking hard, but Louis had come into his own. 1 mile to go I attacked him, hard. He had no problem following. As we rolled into the driveway, Emma greeted us, and we snapped a commemorative pic representing our mileage (sorry mom).

That night, Liza, Jordan, and Waverly all arrived. We ate a delicious Mac and cheese and tried to work on cutting into our calorie deficit. We were largely unsuccesful-we had burned something in the neighborhood of 4500 calories.

The rest of the weekend was nice-chill, quiet, a bit damp. I had under packed, due to the uncertain nature that I would be able to even take the trip.

Another couple of meals, some reading and light physical activity (the one footed race), and Sunday morning Liza discovered a tick in her belly button. As closest thing to emergency contact, I had to pull it out.

I haven’t yet paid the 50 bucks.