Be forewarned, this is going to be one of those posts.
Friday was my last day at work. I'd been slowly packing for the last week or so. The next morning I threw all my boxes in the trusty wagon and left. Leaving what is known and familiar is always slightly disconcerting. Nonetheless, if I was going to do this I was going to do it all the way. When I eventually hit the state boarder I took out my worn work shoes, tossed them over the "Welcome to Utah" sign, and peed on it. TAKE THAT!
However, my cathartic male euphoria may have been a little premature. I may have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. As my current plans consist of ____________________ I decided that I might as well head home to stow my crap, take a little R&R, and plot my next trip. While the sagebrush filled, rain-soaked air of northern Nevada is intoxicating I may have inadvertently become one of "those people". Let me just say, that I don't plan on staying, but on the other hand I really don't have a fixed date for my departure either.
I have been very hesitant to tell people that I've moved home. Locals keep asking,"How long are you visiting for?" and "Just stopping by at home before school starts?" I just smile and say whatever it is they want to hear to end the small talk rather than explain that I actually don't live in Provo anymore, I graduated in April and I moved home. Those who are aware that I moved home keep asking me why don't I go out and get a job somewhere--like I haven't been making 10 applications a week for the past four months. Now there's the quandary of whether or not to go out and just pick up a mine or BLM job (and wonder why I bothered going to college for five years) or just sit around and wait for one of my bazillion applications to bear fruit.
In the mean time, I've had fun catching up with friends and spending time with my brother (he really is well behaved and a lot of fun when there isn't a crowd to impress)
I've been talking about going for years (no, really this time), and last Tuesday I finally made it out to Speed Week at the Bonneville Salt Flats. It was fantastic!
It was a cool, slightly hazy morning, but by 10:00am the sun came out with a vengeance. When the sun hit the salt my polarized sunglasses did little to keep me from having to squint.
All in all it was a gorgeous day. The cars were amazing and it was evident that participants had spent just as much time preparing their pit transportation as they had preparing their race cars. People were touring around the pits in everything from '57 chevy wagons to rat rod '65 Lincoln Continentals. (this picture is neither of the aforementioned models)
The best part about the event is that everyone is so friendly. We were able to get down right on the starting line to watch cars take off. Everyone in the pits was eager to talk about their machines and without a second look would invite you to kick the tires and sit in the driver's seat. Gear heads at their best.
If any of you are wondering what a Volkswagen enthusiast is doing at an event called "Speed Week"-- my people are everywhere.