On Friday we drove from Park City to Moab, home of Arches National Park, and over the course of five hours, the landscape must have changed every 25 minutes, evergreen mountains giving way to dense Aspen groves; a sea of white tree trunks flowing into vast earthy canyons; rocky terrain yielding to sand. Sand shifting from beige to purple to pink to rust to red, and building itself back up into rock again.
Give me your tired, your poor, your attention deficit disorder.
And then I ate bread. At every meal, bread. It’s not as if Utah is especially known for bread. And yet. If you are in Utah now and craving a sandwich, I hope you are a fan of spinach wraps. Because the bread? All gone! Bye bye. You can keep your beautiful spacious skies and purple mountains’ majesty, but the amber waves of grain? THOSE ARE MINE ALL MINE NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.
They say you can't take the Rocky Mountains with you, but my post-vacation pants beg to differ.