At Dicky’s BBQ in rock city, WY a couple in camouflage santa-clause hats walk inside. He is a mousy man with a 5 O’clock shadow, her front two teeth are missing and are with, what appear to be her parents. Her dad calls her mother, ma. The whole feel is wholesome and a tad awkward, I like it. The images on the televisions hanging from the ceilings vacillate between expensive cars, dirt biking, hot girls, and to my delight scantly-clad male models (because there is little to life than being really, really, really good looking, right?). Along with my meat and a side of meat, I order the only vegetable on the menu, green beans with bacon. If you find yourself at Dicky’s, I don’t suggest you order the bacon-laden green beans. But, I can vouch for tastiness of the gigantic pickle, and the beef brisket sandwich is amazing, surpassed in meaty goodness only by Dicky’s sliced sausages.
This may be a good time to recount that Genie (the VW van that is transporting me from CO to OR) does not have a heater. Yet. The brief excursion into Dicky’s was not just to satisfy our stomachs, but also as a reprieve from the cold. While Alex drives, I bundle up in two pairs of long underwear and a pair of jeans for the lower half. On the top half: a go-lite pull-over fleece starts the party, followed by my solstice fleece, Patagonia down vest, marmot puffy jacket, hat and gloves. The outfit is rounded out with my 0-degee down sleeping bag.
Many more miles and on to Evenston where we call it a night at the comfort inn. Somehow we managed to stay at the comfort inn for the price that I was quoted at the super-8. Don’t let the shapie art of a giant penis and testicles on the ceiling fool you, this is a pretty classy establishment, comfy beds, clean room, good breakfast, friendly service and most importantly a reprieve from the -12 deg temps outside.
Our two-day stay in SLC included a gym climbing session at the front and a half-day of skiing at Solitude, a sushi restaurant opening and on my part, a lot of time contemplating my new life as an unemployed, homeless, dreadlocked dirt-bag traveller.
For our SLC to OR day we took off in the early am to try to beat some of the impending storm. The sierras were getting dumped on so we decided to take 84 to Portland then drive down to southern OR on I5. Our goal was to drive to Eugene, hole up for the night then go straight down to Medford.
The weather got the best of us again on cabbage hill near Pendleton, OR. Due to the lack of heating in Genie it was necessary to wipe the condensation off the inside of the windshield every few minutes before it had a chance to freeze and create a constant stream of windshield wiper fluid wipered across the outside to melt off the reside from the freezing-fog.
There were a few tense moments including when the usually calm Alex was relegated to driving with his head stuck out the window in order to navigate by the barely visible dotted center line. We slept that night outside a casino near Pendleton and made the slightly less harrowing, but still stressful drive to Eugene the following day.
Holidays with the family were fun, rewarding and waist expanding. But, alas, if I write in detail about those adventures I will never get this first blog post uploaded. My flight from Mexico City to Lima leaves in 30 minutes and I better figure out how this blog thing works. It is worth noting however, that the young man that I’m sitting next to at gate 62 is singing a wonderful self-written song that is probably titled “I want to eat, I’m tired…mom, dad, do you hear me?.” I can relate.
More later dear friends. Be well.
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