Dudes. Duuuuuuuuudes! Mormons are serious about their bibles! They even carry them on cross walk signs.
You will kindly ignore the misspelling of “poncy”. I’ve heard that Salt Lake City is cool but I really couldn’t believe it until I experienced it for myself. This is why it’s important to get out of dodge and see a few things for one’s self.
We loved this place. First of all, the building is a protected art deco piece of history. Second of all, the food was great. Max tried lots of new stuff and liked some of it. I had a really good grilled cheese sandwich with tomato basil soup and fries. Max had lamb kabobs with tzatziki sauce and really liked it. Philip had a burger.
He also had a teriyaki rice bowl with chicken and vegetables. Apparently he now likes rice even when it isn’t in sushi. Loose rice. He wouldn’t eat loose rice even before he got super picky. Rice and pasta were never on his acceptable foods list. I love how much he’s growing with his food exploration. He tried broccoli and cauliflower at this meal too but didn’t like them. I didn’t even ask him to try them. I don’t ask him to try much anymore because his food exploration is largely self-propelled.
I was told by a local person to make special note about this building which she saw me admiring and taking pics of:
This building was used for the filming of a Steven Seagal movie recently. They filmed an explosion here.
She was a proud city-worker and it was really important to her that I include that hot tid-bit with my trip notes. Done!
Squatters was the first and last place we ate in Salt Lake city. We love it. They have a beer called “Polygamy”, so how can you not love it?
Max got to meet E’s nephew who is definitely cut from the same cloth as Max.
The last thing I saw in Salt Lake City were these grand treats set out for the unwary and the desperate. I don’t believe there’s a real Mrs. Freshly. That’s a little too on the nose, don’t you think? “Freshly” for something so completely contrary to all notion of “fresh” I know of.
I was so taken with the salt flats I could easily have spent a few hours enjoying it. I would have loved to have had time to walk across the expanse of it to the hills in the distance.
Teens are so hard to impress.
We got there just after the sun rose. It was so pretty. We got to see the flats at dusk and dawn. That’s pretty cool.
That’s right, I took 40 billion pictures of the flats. It’s not like I’ll probably ever see it again.
So much texture and color to examine and appreciate!
Look Pam and Elizabeth! I finally saw THE ART! I can finally rest knowing that I have seen it.
Oh, did you think I was done yet? No way. Look at how that looks like snow but isn’t.
Wet salt-crusted rocks.
This is the last pretty sight for hundreds of miles. Bye bye Utah!
Ooops! Hang on, one more salt picture. It’s like if this was the moon and it was covered in salt.
And then, once again, we had to drive through Lucifer’s junk yard where poets and writers splint the broken bones of mankind’s soul and artists get excited about the almost imperceptible washes of color that cover the brown hills and flats for 400 pitiless miles of desert.