Somewhere in Wyoming

Actually, Rock Springs.

I sure have plenty to write about today, so much so that i’ll have to just hit the high points, which started when i was pulling the Segway out of the back of the Prius in a Salt Lake City parking garage and somehow managed to put an inch and a quarter long gash deep into my left index finger and got blood all over my clothes etc before i could wrap it tightly in my snotty handkerchief and continue the expedition to the grand center of the Mormon church that i’ve come to despise so completely as a reaction to their persecution.

So yes, i infiltrated the grounds on the Segway.

But that wasn’t the news.  Oh no.  That started when i was sipping from a drinking fountain outside the temple and was struck by how utterly delicious the water was, right up there with the acclaimed Hetch Hetchy product we enjoy in San Francisco.  It was actually crossing my mind that the Mormons were unaccountably blessed by having such fine water when i was interrupted by an increasingly loud WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP noise that sounded like a descending helicopter.

But then WHAM, i was knocked to the ground and pinned helplessly beneath what felt like a giant wing.  And yes, i know my readers are thinking, there he goes, hallucinating again.  But no, this was no hallucination.

For it immediately became clear that not only was i pinned down beneath a giant wing, but also that it was a highly muscular giant wing that had recently been involved in great athletic exertion.  It smelled like i was trapped beneath a huge, sweaty turkey that had not showered in some time.

Then i realized it was the Angel Moroni, and that all those awful things i’d written about the Mormons might have come to his attention.  At this point he shifted his wing slightly so that my face was free, and gasping gratefully, i suggested that we negotiate.

I had never heard an angel snort.

The upshot was that he helped me conclude that all that stuff i’d previously thought about the Mormons was just errors of my youth and that i was now ready to become a member of the church.  And as a signal of my sincerity, i agreed that as soon as i got back to San Francisco,  I’d replace my sister with the Mormon Church as beneficiary of the trust in which all my assets are kept.

I told Becky about this with some trepidation, fearing she might be upset, but she reassured me that there were no hard feelings, and as a token of this, she’d cook a special dinner for me if i’d stop by to see her on my way back home.

Somewhere in ColoradoSomehow i sense that the remainder of my adventures on this trip will be anticlimactic, but who knows.  At any rate, here’s another southwestern Colorado shot:

Took me a little while to realize that that yellow stripe across the mountain is made by deciduous trees planted alongside a road.

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