Roadtrip – Leg Wyoming

After a relaxing day two in Salt Lake which included a free concert on the lawn with Jenny Lewis and Bon Iver [happiness], we took off for about 450 miles on I-80 through Wyoming.

Now, Wyoming has been terrifically endeared to me in the last 8 hours of driving, and it’s not just because we saw 5 real live cowboys driving their cattle as we crossed in from Utah. It’s also because this quiet state has been such a pioneer over the years.

Did you know that Wyoming is the least lived-in state in the Union, and was the first to grant womens’ suffrage? It was also the first state with a female governor, too, elected in the tender year of 1925. Her name was Nellie. Nellie T. Ross.

But really, it was the pre-rodeo that we crashed just before leaving Wyoming that did me in with happiness. I talked with a professional rodeo clown and played with his unloved puppy. I spent a whole Holga roll on the horses, cowboys, and the bulls we found there. One bull charged at me after snapping a shot too close. I freaked out and laughed so simultaneously strong that an adrenaline rush sent me headward into an I-love-Wyoming song until we reached Colorado on colourful Rt. 287. We’ll soon pull into Rocky Mountain National Park. Life is good.

On the Road with Archangel

Lu’s friends from college are hosting us here in Salt Lake City. They are very kind. I would like to introduce you to the framed delight on their living room wall.

Also, Frederick Buechner signed their copy of this novel that I borrowed from their shelf in the guest room, On the Road With Archangel.

I recently heard a friend tell me that she doesn’t particularly enjoy reading books. I don’t particularly believe her, but sort of understand what she meant. I do not enjoy reading books, either. I only enjoy reading the rare good book. I do not have time to bother with bad ones.

Buechner’s novel is a story drawn from the ancient apocryphal story of Tobit. The archangel Raphael is the narrator. He delivers the prayers of humans into the throneroom of God. From page one:

“Some prayers I hold out as far from me as my arm will reach, the way a woman holds a dead mouse by the tail when she removes it from the kitchen. Some, like flowers, are almost too beautiful to touch, and others so aflame that I’d be afraid of their setting me on fire if I weren’t already more like fire than am anything else.” – from On the Road With Archangel.

I could take a bath in chapter one alone and stay cleaner for days.

This week I watched a movie about Iris Murdoch (20th century British novelist/philosopher/aesthete), called Iris. The one scene that really got me was when Iris’ husband asked her this:

“You love words, don’t you Iris?”

And I inwardly said, “Yes, I do.”

Roadtrip – Leg Salty Lake

This afternoon we arrived in Salt Lake City. Incidentally, the vast majority of the roads here are named things like 2050 East or 1700 West. This is so because the whole of the city is mapped out according to its distance from the Mormon Temple at its center. Curious.

We also learned that July is historic for Utah, because as of the first of this month, one of the age old prohibition-era laws were lifted. Up until this month, bars were called “private clubs” and you had to buy a membership to enter one. Now, all the private clubs have been turned into public places. The City Paper–full as City Papers are of witticisms and peppered with inappropriate things–made a big to-do of the new Alcohol Freedoms in Utah. They’d almost titled the Issue, “Utah: Boldly stepping into the 1940’s.”

In other news, I sampled a most fantastic diner this evening called The Blue Plate. I went alone to the Diner while Lu went with her friends to play mini-golf. (Let it be known that although I am a golfer I am a horrible sport at Mini-Golf. I always lose.) Outside the diner there were some broken down but lovely old bicycles. I wondered if they were intentionally part of the decor. I took some Holgas.

Inside they played Johnny Cash, Sgt. Peppers, Michael Jackson, and some unknown buzzy rock. I sat near a corner, began part of a really gorgeous Frederick Buechner novel, and ordered a coffee and Eggs Benedict. It was a win, all around.

Roadtrip – Leg Zion and her Narrows

Tuesday morning we were (cue the Sheryl Crow song) leavin’ Las Vegas for Zion National Park. I am not much of a camper and this was my first National Park. I was rewarded with a three hour hike (wade) through the Virgin River and the Narrows of Zion.

Lu and I had to hold hands through most of the rocks and mini currents. At one point she caught me before gracefully face-planting into the river. A nice man saw it happen as we laughed like little girl hyenas and chivalrously gave us his walking stick for the last half of the hike. It was probably Jesus disguised as a slightly awkward Texan father type. Win.

(Photo of Zion Narrows by Cynical Pink)

Roadtrip – Leg Vegas part Two (Oh, Lotus of Siam)

Our one evening in Vegas was quite fruitful. We had the good fortune of being pointed towards an often-reviewed but totaaly hidden Thai placed called Lotus of Siam. The place was plastered ceiling to floor with awards and reviews, but was still incredibly inexpensive. We tried some new dishes and agreed after two and a half bites that this was the best, by far, Thai we’d ever had in our lives. At least in our North American Thai experiences.

Vegas is silly but if you must come through here, please eat at Lotus of Siam. Get the crunchy rice appetizer, too. Just trust me.

That night we walked through the Venetian and Bellagio casinos, as one must when they’re touring through the city. At eleven at night the place was crawling with people, families with children (?!?!), and plenty of gratuitous pictures of dancing girls.

“What would this city be without women in g-strings, really? So gross.” I said, quite unwaveringly loud, on an outdoor escalator on the strip.

At least we were able to view the Guinness-book-famously massive chocolate fountain in the Bellagio and it tempted me toward my one and only drink of the Vegas night: an overpriced Mocha Latte.

You could say I was a little tired from a long drive through the desert that afternoon. But not too tired to wager one whole dollar at a slot machine at the Bellagio. I walked away with $1.80 in winnings, which is quite an impressive ROI. I cashed out, pocketed my winnings feeling duly proud of myself as we marched out of the casino.