Rain in the desert
When we awoke in Grand Junction, CO and stumbled out of our hotel room, we found ourselves at the base of the Colorado National Monument. Rather than press on to the desert, I insisted that we take the scenic route through the park before leaving town.
While the drive took longer than expected (that really should be expected by now), it was well worth stopping for the sights. These rocks and canyons were probably the most stunning things we’d seen so far on the trip:
Then, after a little bit of getting lost and debating whether or not we’d eat at Chik-fil-a despite it being ten in the morning (no), we finally got through Colorado and into Utah.
We took route 6, which is a state highway that cuts diagonally across Utah and brought us to the pointy part of Nevada. Before we get there, though, we drove through miles and miles of Utah desert.
Well, it was. The rain was coming down hard by the time we stopped at Mom’s Diner in Salina (rhymes with Saliva), UT. We did exactly as Road Food suggested, eating chicken fried steak and their scones, which are really more like elephant ears, zepoles, or fry bread. The waitress told us which way to get to route 50, which was going to be our next highway of choice, and then informed us it was supposed to rain the next day, too.
So off we went, through the desert filled with puddles, in search of a relatively dry campground. We pulled off at Great Basin National Park and during a dry spell lit a fire and got the tent up. After a couple of glasses of box wine and some smores minus chocolate (we forgot it), the rain started up again so we went to bed.