Greetings

The trials of this journey continue to come, and though they are relentless – they will undoubtedly continue to shape my character. I am my own worst enemy, and my time of apathy has come and gone. Being in the middle of no where does not bring these thoughts to the forefront of the mind, no. You acquire them only after you've returned from depths of nothingness to realize what it means to be real. This truth did not dawn on me as I traveled towards San Francisco, and as I set forth from Denver in the early hours of the morning I had no true idea on what all was waiting for me.

But the bulk of the second day's trip was not spent dwelling on the thoughts and images of an idle mind, that was an impossibility. Because once you leave Denver, all that is before you a massive wall of giants that stand as monuments to the awesome power of the world. The reach the heavens with their endless evergreens and snow caps, casting a shadow across even after the sun has long peeked over the horizon. You need to focus on the road in this time, with eyes set clearly on the white lines drawn out before you, and not the wonderful scenic spectacle on either side. This is where the passenger has certain kind of pleasure the driver doesn't.

The driver's trump card is the difficulty of the road, for they require much more concentration than just driving straight through a boring flat land like Kansas. The road weaves in and out, up and down valleys and canyons. You sweep around one mountain only to drive around another, and then through one on occasion through long tunnels cut deep into the stone. Instead of going to I-80, where the trip does its best to avoid certain mountain ranges. I kept heading west, driving until the Colorado mountains slowly transformed from the tall evergreens, to short bushes, and then to tangled shrubs. Eventually they became but mere weather worn skeletons of old mountains that in the midst of their own rubble and dust. Plants aren't common here, but the heat is of abundance.

Indeed, the second day of the trip was haunted by an ever present and inescapable sun. When I finally drove through Salt Lake city, I reached the twelve hour mark of the drive and decided to rest. But I wanted shade. Oh I looked desperately for it, but Salt Lake is but an oasis in the desert, and the absence of trees is something of a concern. I stopped to rest, turning the interior of my car into a shaded paradise with all the windows blocked with blanket, visor, and pillow. But even though I was somewhat cool, Nelly, my very dependable car – could not escape it at all. This was concerning me a great deal, because I was about to undertake a new stage of the trip into the Utah desert and dross into Nevada.

When I embarked, I had a feeling of dread and doubt for the first time in whole trip. An odd feeling dawned over me that I might not make it through this leg of the journey. And as though Nelly was reading my mind, the gas gauge began to jump wildly. My fuel late blinked on and off, and my RPM meter shook. My heart jumped into my throat – could Nelly be giving out on me? With a bit more gas the problem seemed to correct itself, but nevertheless I kept a very close eye on the HUD. I did my best to avoid taking in the reduced octane gasoline you fine further west. Normally, octane levels of gasoline are 87 for regular, 89 for mid grade, and 91 for high.

But out here, you find 85 octane, and my car can't run on such very well. Perhaps I've been tricked at one point, and someone fed me 85 octane instead of the 87 I depend on. And I felt this could possibly have been the trouble. A bad octane mixture in the tank was causing some stuttered and may not be the fuel pump at all. Well, I continued to drive without issue through the white, dusty sands of Utah. In the distance I saw a rain cloud, and felt relief as I would escape the sun. Yet, that wasn't rain – not entirely. The hue of the clouds became milky and pale, and they towered high over the desert with the heavy loom of a dark cloud above that.

This was no rain, this was dust. A dust storm, though mild, was baring down upon me and it wasn't long before the flavor of dirt filled my mouth. I switched my A/C to recycle to avoid dust intake and turned my head lights on. The dust storm was thankfully very mild, and was only as bad as an average rain storm – just without the water. When I crossed beyond Bonneville, I ascended the mounts that service as the boarder between Utah and Nevada and now I had to race against the night to my destination. But what of my car?

I didn't have trouble until I filled my gas tank again. Now it's a very scary thing seeing your gauges jump about when you're in the middle of a desert without an autoshop. And even if there was one; it was Saturday night and ll autoshops were closed until Monday. I decided to stop short of my destination at Elko, Nevada and got the last room in the hotel – and perhaps one of the more expensive ones too. A king bed, $104 easy not including tax. But there was no other place to stay, all the other hotels were booked solid from drivers calling ahead. I called ahead to a different hotel further down the road, but due to my concerns with the car I didn't feel I could make it.

But the night wasn't a comfortable one. Despite being a very classy little hotel with nice furnishings and a solid room. The room I had was smelt odd, and seemed uncomfortable. I only slept three hours before I realized I had bugs in my bed. Little black beetle like things, and indeed they caused a a fair amount of frustration for me. At 3am in the morning I complained to the clerk and got the price knocked down to $74 – much more reasonable. I got the sleep I needed I supposed, and left early. My mind on my car, I felt a lot better about being out on the road since I asked the hotel clerk for information on who I could call if my car had trouble – he gave me the number for the highway patrol.

Good enough for me really.