On Monday evening, following long habit, I went to Pepper Von's "Step One Health and Fitness Studio" for my Cardio Step Class. After slacking off during last week's vacation, I was very eager to get back to work, and back to peak physical health! The Monday night class is extraordinarily rigorous, and thus, for me, the primary key to my health. It's the best health bargain one can get in all of Sacramento! I'm very loathe to skip it, for any reason.
When I arrived for class, several club patrons were gathered around Pepper's office. I could hear concern in their voices. When I passed the weight room, several women came out. One said: "I could smell the fire a while ago, but the odd thing is that it doesn't seem to have grown at all."
Ah, there was a small fire in the health studio! Indeed, I thought I could smell the merest whiff of smoke.
I headed to the men's restroom, to the remote back of the room, far from the door, where I started to change clothes. There seemed to be a philosophical aspect to this presence of a small fire in the health studio that I hadn't considered before.
How large should a fire be in order to be considered a fire? Is it possible to have a small fire in the weight room, and have no effect at all in the aerobics room? For how long? Can one have a small fire in the weight room indefinitely?
In any event, the last thing I wanted was to have a fire interfere with my aerobics class. I slowly changed into my workout clothes, then stopped at the urinal (whatever might happen, I didn't want to deal with a fire with a full bladder). I hesitated for a moment, then put my jeans back on, over my workout clothes. Just to be prepared, you know, in case someone wanted to evacuate the studio.
When I emerged from the restroom, most of the people seemed to have already left the health studio. There was no sense of panic; just a firm sense of purpose. Unlike me, most people seemed to regard the presence of a fire in the health studio as a matter of practical, not philosophical, concern. People were already taking precautions: there was a haze hugging the floor in the weight room, apparently from recent use of a fire extinguisher.
Alas, as I might have expected, someone had called the Fire Department! I could hear the sirens as I emerged onto the sidewalk. The Fire Department seemed to regard a small fire in the health studio as a potential challenge, since they sent four - four! - engines, plus an ambulance, to deal with the situation. It felt like an overreaction - it was just a small fire, after all - but there were children here too, so I suppose one can't be too careful.
Scuttling like a cockroach on T Street, this car was unable to avoid being instantly surrounded by four fire engines. In a few minutes, first one, then another engine were sent back to their fire houses: it was just a small fire after all.
Dagnabit, this is going to interfere with my aerobics class after all! Even if it's just a small fire, it's going to take hours to resolve. I'll have to go home after all!
This ventilation fan seems to signal that the problem is more practical in nature than philosophical.
To'hajiilee (formerly Cañoncito). The Navajos in this region have a complicated history of estrangement from the rest of their brethren, but these days, things seem peaceful and pleasant out here.
To'hajiilee Community School. The area used in the opening scenes of "Breaking Bad" is about 1.4 miles west of this location. On Google Earth, the road is labelled Trail 7089. The turnoff is unmarked, however, so caution is required to avoid getting mixed up.
Horses graze along the road, so caution is required to avoid hitting them.
Beautiful young horses!
Descending into Walt's Valley of Angst (35.101197°, -107.135481°). Prudence is recommended in this area, however, because people live just a short distance from this location.
Prominent rock around which the RV drives.
Within about 100 feet of Walt's first stand.
"Just a cow house that way."
An equine farewell.
