Missionary position

One of the interesting things about having a blog is tracking where hits come from and how people find this little Pimple on the Ass of the Internet. Some people end up here by Googling “icicle pictures.” Or "does biking make my butt look big." One person even got here by searching "how to raise a sociopath." I'm especially proud of that one.

I got a hit from somebody searching for “chicks on bikes” because I apparently once mentioned a “chick” on a “bike” and that was all it took for a search engine to bring that lonely guy to Bicycles and Icicles. And, of course, I’m still getting action from 49media.com and that Keira Knightley picture.

But I really enjoy my daily geography lesson and often wonder why people in various places find this blog interesting. Hey, I respect the right to lurk, so I don’t expect anyone to send an e-mail or post a comment unless they feel moved to do so, but I have to wonder who’s reading regularly from places like Saudi Arabia and Coffman Cove, Alaska.

My all-time favorite, though, occurred this week when somebody read the blog on a computer owned by the Mormon church in Salt Lake City. Just a thought, but if you’re employed by the Mormons, it might be a bad idea to spend part of your workday reading a blog written by a Deadhead athiest mountain biker.

Seeing the LDS church on my stats reminded me of visiting the Mormon Tabernacle complex when I had a night to kill in SLC after a trip Moab a few years ago. This pretty young Asian woman approached my brother and I to ask if we needed help. She had a black trench coat and one of those little ID badges like missionaries wear when they’re riding their bikes around town and trying to find people to drink the cult’s Kool-Aid. (Oh, crap. Now I’ll get hits from pervs looking for Asian girls in trench coats. Not that one would have to be weird to get turned on by cute Asian chicks in trench coats. As a matter of fact, this one time at band camp ... )

But I digress. So anyway, this encounter made me wonder what it would be like to be a Japanese teenager preparing for your year-long church mission, and to be told they’re sending you to America to recruit more Mormons.

In Salt Lake City.

I mean, it would be kind of hard to meet your quota there, wouldn’t it? The place seems to have only two kinds of people: Mormons, and people who are tired of drinking watered-down beer. And let's be honest; they're often the same people.

I don't really know what the point of this is, either. But it hasn't been a complete waste of time. Those of us who clicked on the links, for instance, that Mormons can order special missionary mountain bikes. Who knew?

You think living in the woods will save you from missionaries? Not when Verdell and Noah mount up on that full-XT Liahona bad boy. They're comin' for ya.

Don't answer the doorbell.