A Sojourn: Part 3--Going Home

The initial depression kicked-in that we were about to embark on the last leg of our trip. Having left Half Moon Bay and going towards our next goal, Salt Lake City, I really wished we had had more time in California. Maybe it is just one of those places that, once there, you just become consumed by the weather, culture, and overall grandness of everything. It's a tough thing to overcome having never experienced it so acutely before. Further, it was the last "hurrah" of the summer for all intents and purposes. Everybody back in Ohio was moving somewhere else or beginning classes at their respective schools. I guess it all hit me at one time that I have to face it all when I get back.
In any case, on our way through Northern California and into Nevada, we saw some of the most beautiful scenery in the country. The Sierra Nevada mountains and Lake Tahoe all made for spectacular views along the way. Arguably some of the most beautiful of the trip. Our first stop came in the form of Reno. Our good friend Stan describes it as a "smaller, dirtier Vegas", and he was pretty dead on. However, we didn't come across the elussive bunny ranch. What I found interesting was that there were exact copies of the casinos from Vegas. However, Reno did have much better weather and more of a view. We opted to risk our lives and eat at a local Taco Bell. I ordered a cheesy bean burrito (a classic), while the clerk proceeded to look at me blankly as if I had 3 heads and one was cussing her out. The manager eventually came by and said she had a history of mental problems and was new on the job. This threw up a red flag in my mind. If they had a mentally handicapped person running the cash register (probably one of the more technically difficult jobs in Taco Bell), then who the hell did they have making my food? More importantly, what would they put in my food? As it turned out, one of the employees who made the food was an MBA student at a local university. If anything, this made my fears worse because how dumb do you have to be as an MBA student to work in Taco Bell as the taco slave? Luckily I got my food as I had ordered, but my friend was more unfortunate. Having ordered a Chicken Chalupa and some chips, she promptly received refried beans and some fruit. I don't know how the initial order translated in the mind of the manager, but clearly this was an ominous sign to simply leave this town. On our way out, we got yelled at by an elderly woman who had two cats with her and sounded just like the "cat lady" from the Simpsons. I'm dead serious.
Having floored the gas pedal to escape the clutches of Reno, both my travel buddy and I noticed something about the local police: They are sneaky bastards. Just to give you an idea (and a warning), sometimes they will have an empty cruiser positioned openly by the side of the road in an attempt--probably--to get you to slow down. However, a lot of us like to go a little faster after the car is out of sight. That is where these jokers trapped so many people because they would be waiting at the bottom of a hill or around a sharp turn just waiting for those speeders. Thankfully we caught on quick and escaped any sort of tickets.
The ride was pretty uneventful up until we finally decided to stop in Salt Lake City. The city itself seemed pretty clean and actually a nice place to stop. In our attempts to find a place to stay, we apparently came upon a caravan of old people that had checked-in the every cheap motel in the area. So, we decided to just bite the bullet and stay in a "nicer" $59.99 a night room because we got a free breakfast in the morning. When I approached the desk to get a room, a rather creepy attendant greeted me. He clearly had some kind of skin disease that had caused him to be excommunicated from his faith. I don't know why he told me this or how it related to getting a room in any way, but I rolled with it. He also wore a pair of dark glasses, like the ones John Lennon made famous in the 70's. What was most creepy about him was his mannerisms. Besides the clearly visible dandruff falling from his head, he had the finger movements that mirrored C. Montgomery Burns and the personality of Norman Bates (ironically, also a motel clerk). My travel buddy came in and wondered what the hold-up was, to which the clerk asked "are you two staying together? I don't see any rings on those fingers." Not only was this creepy, but it was a reminder that we were in Mormon country. Luckily we simply took the key and went to bed in our smoke-laced room. For any of you travelers going through Salt Lake, be aware of this place and take heed. To be continued.