I chose Cedar City for the first night back on the road due to its proximity to Cedar Breaks National Monument. Cuddle the cognac, top up the Person of the Appropriate Sex, chuck another log on the radiator and I'll explain. In the Gulag one of the exercises we were given was something call "Quality World" - if I have this wrong I'm sure my fellow zeks will pile in and correct me - in which each zek did the following:
- Act out an instance of a Good Time
through the medium of interpretive dance
- Write a paragraph or two on what said Good Time made them feel1
- Write another paragraph or two on what one wants from recovery
I stood open-mouthed in the middle of the room slowly turning my head from side to side. Natch none of my fellow zeks could guess what I was doing or where I was doing it; it was, however, seeing for the first time this:
Plus it's even easier to avoid paying than in DETH Valley
After which you see the signs for Navajo Lake. Like Cedar Breaks, the signs are wossnames I had passed more than once in the past without being curious enough to have a shufti. Today I did.
|In a Quality World it'd have a bit more water in it, but hey...|
|Closest to a shot of Wild Turkey I'm getting on this trip...|
The woods ran out after Kanab; back to MMFD2. Made worse by the part from the Glen Canyon Dam to Kayenta being a straight retrace of the outward leg. And the eleven miles of roadworks leading to the Utah-Arizona state line, stuck behind an erratically-driven camper. Doesn't that thing have fucking cruise control, I yelled as its speed varied randomly from 28 to 47 mph. More frustrated even than I was the chap in a Roush-tweaked Mustang. He'd sat behind me for longer than I'd have done had our positions been reversed (there was plenty of room for him to pass so assume he was reading the back bumper) before overtaking in a glorious outburst of V8 thunder. Then he got stuck behind the camper... Anyway, most of the afternoon looked like this:
This is actually quite a good bit as the bushes are bigger than a housebrick and there are Rocks in the background. There might even be a corner up there too.
Things finally turned green again after passing the Four Corners Monument, where Utah, Arizona, Colorado and New Mexico meet. These days the place is administered by the Native Americans which is ironic with it being just an arbitrary dot on on an arbitrary map created by the white man. Actually, it took a teensy bit longer for the green to get going properly, which it did just as his His Bobness, courtesy of the iPod's resident platter-spinner DJ Random, finished belting out Desolation Row.
If you look out of the window of this room you can see Proper Rockies. When it's not dark, obv. Tomorrow I will continue the tradition established in 2010, which is to say buying boxer shorts at Wal-Mart in Durango.
- Feelings are very important in the Gulag and if you have difficulty in expressing them you are automatically suspect in the eyes of The Party. Or something.
- Miles and Miles of Fucking Desert