I've been going up to the thriving mecca of Magna since July nearly every Wednesday to help build houses w/ Habitat for Humanity. It's a riot. You get your regulars, most of which are pretty cool. They're a mix of retired guys, unemployed guys, guys that work odd hours a couple days a week, and the young single guys with nothing better to do (i.e. me). Then you get the volunteer groups. My favorite has been ATT Wireless because they bring cold drinks, and order pizza.
Since I've been going there we've mainly been working on 4 different houses. There are four houses that have already been built and are occupied, with another 8 or 9 lots awaiting some action over the next couple years. Through the summer months most of my time was spent shovelling, and raking gravel for foundations and driveways. It does a wonder for your abs & back ;) On days where somehow I was able to do something else we mainly framed three of those houses (after the foundations were all done). One is a two story we put the rafters on a couple weeks ago.
It's been a lot of fun to learn this much about buliding houses. I don't know how much longer I'm going to keep going up there. I mean, it is 48.64 miles one way. With 15 total trips up there, that's 1459.2 miles so far. At least the mileage should be tax deductible. I'm going to be looking at the local habitat group in Provo. They've done a very poor job of impressing me before when I inquired with them last year. When I sent in my application to the SLC habitat chapter they called me the very next day. Very impressive. It looks like Provo is actually doing something right now, so maybe I will switch.
Thursday, November 6, 2003
Sunday, September 21, 2003
Squaw Peak
Starting elevation: 4728
Summit elevation: 7854
Total Gain: 3126 ft.
Trail Length (one wayy) 2.9 Miles
It was a good day today to climb a mountain. Beautiful weather, not too hot or cold, not a cloud in the sky. Halfway up the mountain when I realized that it was a Saturday and that we had great weather I wondered why I wasn't climbing one of the peaks on my list. Squaw Peak is probably one of the lowest peaks to climb in the area, but aside from a very well groomed trail all the way to the top it was a similar climb to many of the other peaks I climbed this summer. Some of those peaks even had their starting elevation around the summit elevation of Squaw Peak. The typical ascent on those peaks was between 3-4000 ft.
I was probably 12 when I first remarked Squaw Peak's southern exposure with the jagged cliffs running all the way from the canyon floor to the summit, and the cliffs pretty much ran the length of the canyon at it's base (Rock Canyon). I had just gotten into rappelling and I thought it would be cool to be able to rappel from the summit down to the canyon floor. I wonder if anybody's ever attempted that. Looking at the range from the West it looks like Squaw Peak, and Y Peak (The peak just to the South of Squaw) were once the same, and the mountain just cracked open forming the two peaks, and Rock Canyon.
I almost summitted Squaw Peak w/ my bike 2+ years ago. I was riding along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, and as it typically does, it disappeared. So going in the direction the trail was headed I hopped a fence and rode a trail that was kind of faint, but still there; hoping eventually to rejoin the real trail somewhere down the line. The trail ended at another fence, but I saw a trail going up on the mountain. I thought I'd ride that for a while and then turn around. I got halfway up the mountain and decided that I'd already come that far I might as well keep going to the top. It took a couple hours, and I think I was finding my way up the upper half on game trails, but eventually I reached the ridge that leads to the summit. My roommate had told me at one time that there was a trail that led to Squaw Peak (he was talking about the one I hiked today) and I decided that I would try to find it. If I would've hiked for 10 minutes in a southerly direction up the ridgeline I would've hit it, but I went East, straight down the other side. The trees and grasses looked lighter and I thought I would intersect the trail eventually. There was no trail in the area I was in. The grass was now up to my shoulders and I had to carry my bike above my head, I ran out of water on the ridgeline, and it had been 8 hours since I'd last eaten, not to mention the denseness of the trees making travel time really slow. I would've turned around, climbed back up to the ridgeline and packed myself out the same way I came in, but I needed water, so I kept going another half mile until I hit what I was hoping to be a nice sized stream I could get water from. It was bone dry. It made travel easier for the most part though. When the streambed was blocked with fallen trees it was a pain. I thought I was going to have to go all the way up to Provo Canyon, but thankfully there was a canyon I ran into -- I think it's called Crack Canyon, not sure -- it had a little trickle of water flowing down the top portion of it. It was teaming with all sorts of insects swimming around in it, and who knows what kind of other nasties were in it -- the Camelbak slogan comes to mind to describe the situation: "hydrate or die". If I would've known the area better I would've known that there was a beautiful dirt road and a campground about 500 ft to the east of where I filled up w/ the nasty water. It took a couple hours of rock hopping (on foot, not on my bike) to get to the mouth of the canyon, but the canyon was a welcome change to the dense forest I had just trudged through. Still carrying the bike was still a pain. I had wanted to leave it somewhere on the mountain to come back for it when I was in a better condition to carry it out -- and after I had found a better route for getting into this area -- but I never wanted to go back there, ever, ever again. I made it out of the canyon and finally I could ride again. Made it to the car about 8 hours after I left it. In all it was probably about 5 miles, but the route was less than optimal. It was really disappointing to see just how close I was to the trail I was seeking two years ago. Biking down that trail and coming out of Rock Canyon would've been the greatest thing, and would've made the entire trip only 3 hours long instead of 8. Well, whatever doesn't kill you usually makes you stronger -- and wiser. A GPS would've been awesome for that trip, no, I take that back, it would've been priceless.
I'm glad I went up there today. I've been bogged down with work from several different clients this past month, and this was a welcome break from the routine.
I got a beta this week. I call him Monsieur Poisson (Mr. Fish). I was thinking it's kind of sad how he has to live his life in a tiny little bowl just swimming around in circles all day long. He'll never be able to puddle jump in southern asia where he comes from, and fight off invading male betas, or enjoy any of his other natural activities. I realized a second after I had that thought that his life isn't that much different from mine. I really spend most of my days in my room; either working or sleeping. If we were to compare our living space relative to our mass I think Monsieur Poisson gets more living space. On top of that he has a deluxe beta tank w/ his own cool blue led light in a stylish little stand which is quite the upgrade from a puddle back home. And human kind today lives better than the noblest kings of the past with all of our conveniences and technology. Since we're pretty much in the same boat I can only reason that if I enjoy my living quarters and lifestyle, then so does Monsieur Poisson.
View photos from this trip
Summit elevation: 7854
Total Gain: 3126 ft.
Trail Length (one wayy) 2.9 Miles
It was a good day today to climb a mountain. Beautiful weather, not too hot or cold, not a cloud in the sky. Halfway up the mountain when I realized that it was a Saturday and that we had great weather I wondered why I wasn't climbing one of the peaks on my list. Squaw Peak is probably one of the lowest peaks to climb in the area, but aside from a very well groomed trail all the way to the top it was a similar climb to many of the other peaks I climbed this summer. Some of those peaks even had their starting elevation around the summit elevation of Squaw Peak. The typical ascent on those peaks was between 3-4000 ft.
I was probably 12 when I first remarked Squaw Peak's southern exposure with the jagged cliffs running all the way from the canyon floor to the summit, and the cliffs pretty much ran the length of the canyon at it's base (Rock Canyon). I had just gotten into rappelling and I thought it would be cool to be able to rappel from the summit down to the canyon floor. I wonder if anybody's ever attempted that. Looking at the range from the West it looks like Squaw Peak, and Y Peak (The peak just to the South of Squaw) were once the same, and the mountain just cracked open forming the two peaks, and Rock Canyon.
I almost summitted Squaw Peak w/ my bike 2+ years ago. I was riding along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, and as it typically does, it disappeared. So going in the direction the trail was headed I hopped a fence and rode a trail that was kind of faint, but still there; hoping eventually to rejoin the real trail somewhere down the line. The trail ended at another fence, but I saw a trail going up on the mountain. I thought I'd ride that for a while and then turn around. I got halfway up the mountain and decided that I'd already come that far I might as well keep going to the top. It took a couple hours, and I think I was finding my way up the upper half on game trails, but eventually I reached the ridge that leads to the summit. My roommate had told me at one time that there was a trail that led to Squaw Peak (he was talking about the one I hiked today) and I decided that I would try to find it. If I would've hiked for 10 minutes in a southerly direction up the ridgeline I would've hit it, but I went East, straight down the other side. The trees and grasses looked lighter and I thought I would intersect the trail eventually. There was no trail in the area I was in. The grass was now up to my shoulders and I had to carry my bike above my head, I ran out of water on the ridgeline, and it had been 8 hours since I'd last eaten, not to mention the denseness of the trees making travel time really slow. I would've turned around, climbed back up to the ridgeline and packed myself out the same way I came in, but I needed water, so I kept going another half mile until I hit what I was hoping to be a nice sized stream I could get water from. It was bone dry. It made travel easier for the most part though. When the streambed was blocked with fallen trees it was a pain. I thought I was going to have to go all the way up to Provo Canyon, but thankfully there was a canyon I ran into -- I think it's called Crack Canyon, not sure -- it had a little trickle of water flowing down the top portion of it. It was teaming with all sorts of insects swimming around in it, and who knows what kind of other nasties were in it -- the Camelbak slogan comes to mind to describe the situation: "hydrate or die". If I would've known the area better I would've known that there was a beautiful dirt road and a campground about 500 ft to the east of where I filled up w/ the nasty water. It took a couple hours of rock hopping (on foot, not on my bike) to get to the mouth of the canyon, but the canyon was a welcome change to the dense forest I had just trudged through. Still carrying the bike was still a pain. I had wanted to leave it somewhere on the mountain to come back for it when I was in a better condition to carry it out -- and after I had found a better route for getting into this area -- but I never wanted to go back there, ever, ever again. I made it out of the canyon and finally I could ride again. Made it to the car about 8 hours after I left it. In all it was probably about 5 miles, but the route was less than optimal. It was really disappointing to see just how close I was to the trail I was seeking two years ago. Biking down that trail and coming out of Rock Canyon would've been the greatest thing, and would've made the entire trip only 3 hours long instead of 8. Well, whatever doesn't kill you usually makes you stronger -- and wiser. A GPS would've been awesome for that trip, no, I take that back, it would've been priceless.
I'm glad I went up there today. I've been bogged down with work from several different clients this past month, and this was a welcome break from the routine.
I got a beta this week. I call him Monsieur Poisson (Mr. Fish). I was thinking it's kind of sad how he has to live his life in a tiny little bowl just swimming around in circles all day long. He'll never be able to puddle jump in southern asia where he comes from, and fight off invading male betas, or enjoy any of his other natural activities. I realized a second after I had that thought that his life isn't that much different from mine. I really spend most of my days in my room; either working or sleeping. If we were to compare our living space relative to our mass I think Monsieur Poisson gets more living space. On top of that he has a deluxe beta tank w/ his own cool blue led light in a stylish little stand which is quite the upgrade from a puddle back home. And human kind today lives better than the noblest kings of the past with all of our conveniences and technology. Since we're pretty much in the same boat I can only reason that if I enjoy my living quarters and lifestyle, then so does Monsieur Poisson.
View photos from this trip
Tuesday, August 5, 2003
Timpanogos Cave
A friend just got back from a 2 month vacation back home in France, so I got a couple other francophones together for an excursion up to Timpanogos Cave. It's a 3 mile round trip w/ 1000 + ft in elevation gain, kind of modest, but what's cool about this trip is that you're making your way up the mountainside on a trail which was essentially cut out of the cliff that makes up the north face of Timpanogos. The last time I was there was probably 15 years ago. The cave was shorter than I remember, and it was definetely cooler when I was younger. There were a couple little boys, probably 5 years old, in our tour group in the cave, and they had these LED headlamps that they kept turning on when the cave was supposed to be pitch black to be in awe of the darkness of it all. They kept pointing out all the stalactites, and stalagmites, and shouting about how each one was cooler than the last. It was cool to see it all again, but it was even cooler to see those kids getting such a kick out of it. I was jealous because they never had to duck once. It was mildly hot, but not unbearable, and not a mosquito, or fly in site. We spoke in French the whole time which was nice, but reminded me of how much I've lost already after 2.5 years. It was flowing pretty easily by the end of the trip, but there were still those stuttering moments when you're looking for a word.
View photos
View photos
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
Deseret Peak
Naomi is no longer my favorite peak to climb out of the county high points. After Deseret Peak, Naomi Peak just seems docile, and immature. Deseret Peak has been one of the mountains I've wanted to do all summer. So I did it. The summit is at 11,031 ft., and the trailhead starts at 7,400 for a total elevation gain of 3,631 ft in roughly 3.5 miles (one way).
After a hectic Monday morning I decided it would be best to get out into the mountains. The sky was blue, thunderstorm forecasts were non-existant, and the temperatures were below 100 degrees in the valley for the first time in 2 weeks, which meant that the temps in the mountains would be even nicer. I planned the trip around 1:00 pm, ate a quick lunch, threw my gear into a bag, and was driving through the desert in no time. I got to the trailhead at 3:00, and was on the trail by 3:20. I swallowed two flys on the way up (unintentionally, mind you). There were hordes of every kind choked onto the trail like it was an LA freeway at rush hour until 9,000 ft. The trail switchbacks incessantly all the way up the mountainside. At the treeline at 10,000 feet I came out of the canyon I had been hiking through onto the saddle, where the view to the north and the south was magnificent. The trail continued in switchbacks up to the base of a false summit, and then went around the southern end of the mountain where the vertical grade was steep, but the trail was nicely cut. The trail is nice the entire trip up. The route was well planned, and the trail was nice, except for the thistle growing into your walking path until you hit 10,500 ft just below the false summit. After many, frequent stops to breathe the good air I was at the top. The peak is one steep slope on the south end, complemented by one 2,000 foot cliff on the north end. There's a wind shelter up there in case the winds pick up, although it's quite rudimentary.
From the summit you can see 6 of the 26 county high points in Utah: Bull Mtn, Ibapah Peak, My Nebo, AF Twin Peaks, Willard Peak, and Thurston Peak. There's also an excellent view of the salt flats, the Great Salt Lake, the military proving grounds (where I saw a couple jets take off, well, heard them first, they were 50 miles away), a forest fire, and I was able to look down on 3 eagles catching updrafts to soar on.
The trip down was uneventful till I hit the trailhead where a deer came out and greeted me. It even let me get 8 feet away from him for a picture.
All in all it was 2:40 up, and 1:35 down. 5 hours in all w/ 45 minutes at the summit.
View photos from this trail
After a hectic Monday morning I decided it would be best to get out into the mountains. The sky was blue, thunderstorm forecasts were non-existant, and the temperatures were below 100 degrees in the valley for the first time in 2 weeks, which meant that the temps in the mountains would be even nicer. I planned the trip around 1:00 pm, ate a quick lunch, threw my gear into a bag, and was driving through the desert in no time. I got to the trailhead at 3:00, and was on the trail by 3:20. I swallowed two flys on the way up (unintentionally, mind you). There were hordes of every kind choked onto the trail like it was an LA freeway at rush hour until 9,000 ft. The trail switchbacks incessantly all the way up the mountainside. At the treeline at 10,000 feet I came out of the canyon I had been hiking through onto the saddle, where the view to the north and the south was magnificent. The trail continued in switchbacks up to the base of a false summit, and then went around the southern end of the mountain where the vertical grade was steep, but the trail was nicely cut. The trail is nice the entire trip up. The route was well planned, and the trail was nice, except for the thistle growing into your walking path until you hit 10,500 ft just below the false summit. After many, frequent stops to breathe the good air I was at the top. The peak is one steep slope on the south end, complemented by one 2,000 foot cliff on the north end. There's a wind shelter up there in case the winds pick up, although it's quite rudimentary.
From the summit you can see 6 of the 26 county high points in Utah: Bull Mtn, Ibapah Peak, My Nebo, AF Twin Peaks, Willard Peak, and Thurston Peak. There's also an excellent view of the salt flats, the Great Salt Lake, the military proving grounds (where I saw a couple jets take off, well, heard them first, they were 50 miles away), a forest fire, and I was able to look down on 3 eagles catching updrafts to soar on.
The trip down was uneventful till I hit the trailhead where a deer came out and greeted me. It even let me get 8 feet away from him for a picture.
All in all it was 2:40 up, and 1:35 down. 5 hours in all w/ 45 minutes at the summit.
View photos from this trail
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Naomi Peak
Naomi Peak quickly became one of my favorite peaks to climb. The route up to the top isn't very long, just 3 miles, the trail is well maintained, very well marked, and there's plenty of shade all the way up. Towards the top the views of the surrounding area and all of the mountains and canyons all around you come into view. Once you hit the top of the peak you're rewarded with even more beauty as you look into the Naomi Peak Wilderness Area, and on into the Cache Valley through one of the canyons. The peak itself is just above the treeline, but even so I was surprised to find ladybugs and other really cool beetles with green irridescent bodies crawling all over the boulders at the top. There was a small patch of snow left in one of the saddles on the ridgeline.
View photos from this trip
View photos from this trip
Bridger Peak
Climbing Bridger Peak was a walk in the park. When the guide book said that you get to leave the trail and start bushwhacking to get to the summit I was worried. I didn't want to get into a similar situation as I did on Bull Mountain. The trail pretty much goes straight up the mountain for 400 vertical feet, then turns towards the summit, then straight up again, then to the right just below the ridge line. I stuck to the trail thankfully, and wound up a little further away from the peak than I would've been had I bush whacked, but it was worth it. From there it was a quick scramble up some rocks to the ridgeline, and then an easy hike to the summit. It seriously smelled like cows had been up there, and there were flys galore. If it wasn't for DEET I would've hated the trip. There are perfect views of Naomi Peak from the ridgeline, not the summit, and from the summit you can see portions of Bear Lake. Bridger is low enough that the top is still covered in trees. It's impressive that such an easy peak to bag is the high point of a county.
View photos from this peak
View photos from this peak
Saturday, July 5, 2003
Bull Mountain
I knew that I was going to have some tough climbs when I decided I wanted to bag all these peaks, but Bull Mountain blew my expectations of misery away. It started out innocent enough with a very nice trail heading gradually up into a canyon, following the path of a stream at a distance. At a junction of two streams I made my left turn up a smaller, but still decent trail into a side canyon heading directly towards the summit. A mile and a half into this trail it crossed the stream I had been following up the side canyon and went up into a field of sagebrush, thorny plants, and some grasses. After a quarter mile of that the trail disappeared. I'm glad I had my GPS to let me know I was on track. After the trail disappeaered I went through a section of forest to save my legs some agony from the scraping that I found hords of moths living in the pine trees. I never saw them actually hanging out in the trees. As soon as they heard a sound all of the moths flew out from the trees panicking flying in all directions. Fortunately I only had 2000 vertical feet with these paranoid bugs. The rest of the trip up was pretty much the same: no trail, and moths in the trees. When I got to the top I found that the summit was one flat meadow. I had a hard time even trying to figure out where the exact summit would be it was so flat. GPS to the rescue. The top was marked with a small cairn that was favored by the local jackrabbits. I know this because they defecated all over the cairn. At least the summit was above treeline so there were no moths to bother me. On the way back I decided to take an alternate route to avoid moths, sagebrush, and no trail. The route I chose took me along one of the ridge lines back towards camp. There was a faint outline of an old road that I followed, and hoped it took me somewhere nice. I saw periodically empty discarded bottles of Gatorade or Coke, which bolstered my hopes that this area was frequented often, and that there was a trail in the area. For 2 miles it was wonderful, then I hit the forest. I knew that I would have to get off the ridgeline and into one of the canyon bottoms to hook up with a trail. The trail I had come up on was much further away than the canyon bottom in the opposite direction, so I thought I'd try it. It was steep, dense, and there were fallen trees all over the place, but it didn't take long to get to the canyon bottom. If it wasn't for the GPS I wouldn't have had a clue what to do, or where to go. I had ran out of water up on the ridgeline, so getting to a stream was the best thing to do even if there wasn't a trail. There was a stream, but no trail. I purified the water with the wonderful iodine tablets. I'm glad I filled up when I did because shortly after the stream went underground and I was left with a dry streambed to run down. It was almost as good as a trial until I hit overgrowth, and enough fallen trees to stop an elephant. After going back into the dense forest, walking in the streambed, and anywhere else there was a clear enough path to go through. Eventually I hit the main trail. It was the happiest moment of my trip. If I had to do it again, I don't think I would take the route I did back, or the one I did up, perhaps the trail to Bull Flat, since you do pass Bull Flat on the way to the top on the recommended route for bagging that peak.
View photos from this trip
View photos from this trip
Saturday, June 14, 2003
Mount Cardwell
This was a fun little peak to climb. It's got really high elevation, but you don't have to climb that much to get to the top. There's no trail, so getting there can be a challenge without a GPS to keep you on track until you can see the summit, and to help you find the summit you need to get to. It was wonderful to have to jump from boulder to boulder to get to this peak since I hadn't been on that terrain in a while. I placed a geocache near the top overlooking some lakes to the north. There was a herd of Moose on the top when I got there. They were gone by the time I was able to get my camera out of my pack and turned on. There wasn't a soul up there, and nothing could be heard for miles. It was a welcome reentry into the mountain tops.
View photos from this trip
View photos from this trip
Thursday, May 15, 2003
Hiking the highest point in each of Utah's counties
I think it was around February that I initially came across the notion of climbing the highest point in each of Utah's counties. I went out and found the guidebook for doing it. I purchased a GPS (Magellan Sportrak Pro), topo software to load onto the GPS, new hiking boots (my old ones were the cause of the blisters on the Havasu trip), and a couple other essentials. So now I'm ready to go out and bag some of these peaks. I'm just waiting for more of the snow to come off the tops of the mountains before I go up.
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
Havasu Falls
Most recently I just got back from a hike down to Havasu Falls on the South-Western edge of the Grand Canyon. It's a 22 mile round trip hike starting at the top of one of side canyons of the Grand Canyon. The parking lot is actually on a shelf with big cliffs above and below it. There's helicopter service to the village of Supai, which is 2 miles from the waterfalls for the lazy. If you're lazy, but still want to go through the canyon you can go down on horse. I went all the way in and out w/ my 40 lb pack.
For the main shot of Havasu Falls I took 5 pictures of segments of the waterfall, and then when I got back put them back together into one big ultra-high resolution picture that I will probably have printed in poster format, and framed.
I think there were more than 300 people down at the campground while I was there for one night (I guess normal people spend two nights to recover, AND normal people reserved their spot 5 months earlier, I was lucky to pick up a cancelled spot the day before). With all the tourist dollars this native-american village brings in ($31.50 for me just to get in and stay the night) I'm surprised they live as modestly as they do. Well, they do have satellites on every house. I managed to get away with only one blister, which ended up being the size of a pistachio (still in it's shell), and surprisingly it didn't break open. By the time I reached the parking lot my feet didn't want to be stepped on any longer. Unfortunately my truck was parked a 1000 feet from the trailhead. :(
After the hike I went on to Vegas. I drove on Route 66 for about an hour until I hit the town of Kingsman, AZ. I stopped at Denny's for an All American Slam, which was SOOO good after having eaten only rehydrated freeze dried food. I also came across a huge Harley Davidson festival while I was there. I noticed that gas was $1.34/gallon which I thought was odd given the town's relative small size and remoteness, but I decided that Vegas would probably have gas just as cheap, if not cheaper, so I didn't fill up. What was I thinking? I learned my lesson when I hit Henderson and saw gas for $1.93. The only eventful moment during the last leg of the trip to Vegas was a blockade around the Hoover dam. I spent the night very comfortably in a nice bed in Western Las Vegas, and made it back to Provo the next afternoon. Now it's back to the normal working life.
For the main shot of Havasu Falls I took 5 pictures of segments of the waterfall, and then when I got back put them back together into one big ultra-high resolution picture that I will probably have printed in poster format, and framed.
I think there were more than 300 people down at the campground while I was there for one night (I guess normal people spend two nights to recover, AND normal people reserved their spot 5 months earlier, I was lucky to pick up a cancelled spot the day before). With all the tourist dollars this native-american village brings in ($31.50 for me just to get in and stay the night) I'm surprised they live as modestly as they do. Well, they do have satellites on every house. I managed to get away with only one blister, which ended up being the size of a pistachio (still in it's shell), and surprisingly it didn't break open. By the time I reached the parking lot my feet didn't want to be stepped on any longer. Unfortunately my truck was parked a 1000 feet from the trailhead. :(
After the hike I went on to Vegas. I drove on Route 66 for about an hour until I hit the town of Kingsman, AZ. I stopped at Denny's for an All American Slam, which was SOOO good after having eaten only rehydrated freeze dried food. I also came across a huge Harley Davidson festival while I was there. I noticed that gas was $1.34/gallon which I thought was odd given the town's relative small size and remoteness, but I decided that Vegas would probably have gas just as cheap, if not cheaper, so I didn't fill up. What was I thinking? I learned my lesson when I hit Henderson and saw gas for $1.93. The only eventful moment during the last leg of the trip to Vegas was a blockade around the Hoover dam. I spent the night very comfortably in a nice bed in Western Las Vegas, and made it back to Provo the next afternoon. Now it's back to the normal working life.
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