Sunday, October 28

46, 47

I flew to Salt Lake City yesterday. Everyone said it was beautiful and they had a point. Built by the mountains it's a picturesque town ... full of people with big hair-dos.

My flight was memorable because I sat next to a kitten. Me-ow.

Upon landing I ambled over to the car rental place where I got an Asian with attitude, blowing and popping her gum as she went through the list of things I should upgrade.

After a couple hours of work I jumped into my Utah plated car, and I headed for Wyoming.

In my quest to visit all 50 states, New Mexico is the only one of the 48 contiguous left.

The drive to Wyoming was perfect, through Park City (home of the Sundance Film Festival), past huge geologic wonders, running along side freight box cars, and tons of animals you don't see out East.

When I finally crossed the border I found myself in Evanston. There were no restaurants open, and it was dinner time. The only thing open was the Walmart, so I ran in for some bread and cheese. I should have worn an alien costume, I would have blended in better.

Who would have thought a pair of well-cut jeans, a dress shirt and a V-Neck sweater could be so obtrusive?

I headed back to SLC, and a hotel full of hollering wedding guests.

Sunday morning I was back in the airport stuck behind cowboys chewing tobacco glad to be flying home before the big storm (to be continued!)

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