I sit and type this tonight (early Monday morning) from a dimly lit hotel room desk in historic downtown Ogden, Utah. It's a Sunday night and the streets here are empty. Actually the streets seem to be empty everywhere in Utah on a Sunday. That is great if you're driving; bad if you are trying to find a place to eat. Interestingly, contrary to previously thought, we discovered it is actually sometimes safer to order the patty melt from a diner rather than the turkey sandwich.
We left the 90 degree weather of Vegas this morning. I'm not going to disclose anything of what ensued during the last three days there, but as Hunter S. Thompson said, "Buy the ticket. Take the Ride." And that we did.
One thing I've learned about meandering roadtrips over the years is that many times the best routes to take are those that are decided by complete strangers. For example, Maximo and Hans (yes these were their real names) were two bellhops standing outside the hotel this morning as we loaded up the car. After explaining to them our trip and our desire to get off the interstate, they guided us to Cedar Breaks National Park. Their recommendations took us on a secluded two hour excursion through a part of the country that I never knew existed and probably wouldn't have found on our own.
It felt good to get back into the mountains. Away from the electric lightning of Las Vegas and into the quiet meditation of an alpine forest.
Our drive started in the 95 degree heat of the Nevada desert and in a few short hours took us up over 10,000ft and walking amidst snow.
Annie standing at Chessmen Ridge Overlook at an elevation of 10,460ft.
Reminiscent of the Grand Canyon, this was the panorama at Cedar Breaks National Park, Utah.