 |
Parv dropped Baker off promptly and we headed out over
the Bay Bridge ("Was the Bay Bridge fogged in last night? Yes! Ba-doomp,
ba-doomp") and turned toward Sacramento, which Matt Shuman in L.A. had warned us is
not much of a city. Somewhere in Sacramento, however, I-80 escaped from under us and we
discovered about 20 or 30 miles east of town that we were on California Highway 50. So we
cut up on California 49, which of course was mountainous with hairpin curves because I was
driving. After that delay, however, we continued westward on I-80 for approximately 600
miles through the most eerie region of the nation. First of all, Nevada was constructed
for the sole purpose of air force training. And gambling. Highway advertisements said
stuff like "Next stop: Burger King w/playlot and casino." We passed through
Reno, the Biggest Little City in Sister Act, and managed to keep a tight grip on I-80 all
the way through town. The rest of Nevada was exactly the shade of brown we expected.
We hear there are a lot of Mormons in Utah. Maybe they’re hiding under the salt.
From our perspective, as we passed into Utah the highway became a straight line through
the Alaskan tundra although the temperature hovered around 90. Apparently, somebody poured
a hell of a lot of salt all over the state, and at certain points in the salt they put
cities and mysterious spots that glow in the night. They also put on a lightning show for
us, which stayed just a few miles ahead of us until I started driving.
Then we called my dad to tell him we were staying in Park City, just east of Salt Lake
City. So we drove to Park City, and we kept on driving until we ended up in Wyoming about
an hour later. But don’t tell my dad. |
