Utah is a funny combination of constraint and heedlessness. The speed limit on the I-15 is 80mph for large stretches (wow!), but don’t you dare drive into Nevada for liquor you haven’t paid State tax on. (And now they have recently legalized pot to worry about too.) The map was not kidding about the squiggly-ness from the turn-off just south of Provo, UT over the mountains to connect with Route 191. At the highest point it was over 9000 ft, some of it barely paved, with only a scrawny shoulder for allowing sturdier, speedier Utahans to get around me. It was all beautiful though — green pastures against the hills, complex pine/oak/aspen forests, those wonderful red mesas and rock layer cliffs at odd angles. Well OK, Roosevelt is an uninspired looking town. Vernal is not a whole lot better, but has a brewpub, an interesting pizzaria and the dinosaur bones. And the petunias. Way too many petunias. May qualify for Accidental Wes Anderson. Lots of gentle rain today — which was wonderful too.
I promised the ex that I would check-in. When I do he texts back what he’s fixed around the house. I don’t know if that’s to butter me up or create guilt. Try not to think about it too much.