crab sandwich

I woke up early this morning. 5:45ish.

Last night I had a restless sleep, anticipating a fairly long day on the road from Salt Lake City to Lake Tahoe. My thoughts were to pack up the car, get things loaded, maybe write a blog post, say bye to Andy and Diane and be on the road by 8am.

When I rolled out of bed, I grabbed a few bags, Kelli’s guitar (which I’m borrowing) and tip-toed my way to the door. Only to realize … I didn’t have my keys.Now anyone who has lived with a Mool, knows that losing one’s keys is not a rare occurrence. We’ve gotten better at it through the years—finding hooks and cups and special little spots to store them—but occasionally the recessive gene is just too much to overcome.

So at first, I wasn’t too concerned. They’ll show up. Multiple times I rummaged through the shoulder bag I used last night to bike to the Red Iguana, SLC’s finest Mexican restaurant. Not there. I shook out the covers on my bed (a classic hiding spot). Nope. I checked in shoes, in my bike helmet, in pant pockets, under tables, between couch cushions … Nothing.

Uh oh. This could be the one … the one time the keys really disappear.

Mole: may impair morning judgement

My morning brain told me: make a cup of coffee and reassess.

As I took my first sips, I had visions of me unlocking my bike last night and watching my keys fall to the ground as I fiddled with the U-lock. Shit. I must have put the lock back in my bag and left the parking lot without grabbing my keys.

This sucks. What will I do if I lost my keys? This sort of thing always happens when you’re trying to leave someplace / get someplace …

I took a few more sips and repeated the search: shoulder bag, helmet, pockets, cushions, floor … This is bad. The Red Iguana doesn’t open until 11am, which means even if they are there, I won’t get to Tahoe until like 8pm or later. If they’re not there … who knows?

I took another sip and went through my motions from last night. Absolutely no recollection of having my keys at any point after I got back to Andy and Diane’s.

Well … it looks like I’m going to have to borrow Andy’s car and retrace my steps from the restaurant back to his place. Another sip.

Let’s see … I had the Mole Coloradito … Sip. Put the leftover box in my bag … Another sip. I KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!

In the fridge.

The fridge: A logical spot for keys

Last night when I got back to Andy and Diane’s, I immediately put my leftovers in the fridge and set my keys on top of the box so I couldn’t forget the food. A little trick I learned from Chris Barlow when we used to work at Backcountry.

Unfortunately the trick worked a little too well.

Tip: Drink this much coffee before searching for anything