In the summer of 2003, Charlotte and I decided to take a trip across the country by rental car (why a rental? Don't ask--it's complicated, dull, and annoying.), stopping at various friends along the way, seeing the sights, and culminating in our annual visit to the Burningman festival in Nevada. This is the diary we kept along the way.
|25-26||Hot Springs AR|
|?||Oklahoma City OK|
|31||Mesa Verde CO|
|?||Grand Canyon AZ|
|11-13||Los Angeles CA|
|16-24||San Francisco CA|
|24-Sept 1||Black Rock City NV|
|2||Salt Lake City UT|
The striking red of the clay and sand, intersperced with the pale gray boulders and the dusty green sagebrush, grass, and scrub pine.
We're out of skeeter country now--saints be praised--but the houseflies and fireants 'round these parts have their own distinctive charmlessness.
What the heck is with the little ceramic wizards on sale prominently at every truckstop we pass? I threatened to lurk at one until someone buys one to learn the target demographic, but Lotte nixed that plan right good.
We crouched in the cool water of the lake, twined together, my feet planted in the soft clay of the lakebed, a long time, until the heat and cramps of travel had subsided.