Spencer and I drove to Salt Lake City from Tempe, because I am obviously insane and don’t know how to read a map.
It really should have said, “Elk, fuckin’ everywhere” since these signs showed up one right after another for about 70 miles.
Not true, really. Initially I had thought, “Oh, Arizona and Utah are right next to one another, it won’t be that long a drive.” And then I did some initial fact finding on Google Maps and discovered this:
thanks, Google
Yeah. Actually long. We took the route not through Vegas, because that’s where the Garmin took us. It was supposed to be a little longer, but there are 80mph test zones so that helped us shave of some time. (That and my love of “beat the Garmin.”)
Overall the trip was uneventful. One of the biggest indicators that I have grown up in the past five years* is that Spencer and I didn’t argue at all, in fact he didn’t even get on my nerves.
We saw a lot of amazing topography along the way and my respect for Mother Nature was refreshed. (I’ve gotten a little cynical living in Tempe which is, I’m sorry, not a very pretty city.) Arizona can be pretty, you just have to drive 4 hours to get to it.**
Utah is amazing, too, but in a totally different way. I had never seen mountains like that in person, and every corner I rounded had me saying, “THIS IS UNREAL.” It was visually astounding to me.
Utah is also comprised of creepy little towns that I’m pretty sure are inhabited by cannibal cults. Orderville and Penguitch struck us as particularly weird. (Have you seen children of the corn? I’m not even kidding, they were that unsettling.)
Social Hall – no thank you.
I’m happy we drove, and I wish we’d had more time to explore. We accidentally happened upon a Department of the Interior office with some dinosaur bones on display while I was searching for a restroom.*** I can only imagine what we would have found if Spencer hadn’t had to return to work today. So, I encourage you, skip the airport for your next family vacation, load up the car with a cooler and some good music and hit the road — I’ll totally sit through your slide show when you get back.
No glass, people. No glass. That sign may as well read, “Touch me, Patti, for the love of God, TOUCH ME.”
*Along with needing to stop to use the restroom once every 2 hours.
** And I’m not talking about Flagstaff. If you are from the North East or the Pacific North West when you move to Arizona people will tell you to go to Flagstaff when you miss home. These are people who have obviously never been to the North East or the Pacific North West.
***I regret not touching that dinosaur head. It would have been worth being put on whatever list I would have landed on for sure.