WEST in FEBRUARY : SLC - SF

Hannah and I did a running start hug in the Salt Lake City airport. "Wanna have a drink?' I had a wheat beer brewed in Utah called Epic, and we met up with Hannah's doctor buddy Rory, the Irish-Canadian sprightly man who taught me about "coding." (Pronouncing someone dead). Her apartment felt empty and quiet without boy and dog - their ghosts were still there, lingering. His shirts still in the closet, the dogs' hair still floating around on the wood floor. She woke up early for work, I slept comfortably with the humidifier humming next to me, happy to catch up on sleep.

Rory picked me up and took me to Lucky 13, a Harley-esque burger joint with amazing garlic fries and spicy mayo. We drank beers with another doctor, Lee, who seemed a bit down on the state of his life. He had just worked a 30 hour rotation. Ouch. Then Rory took me to the Mormon Disneyland - the towering scary temple and the tabernacle choir and a high rise that gave us an incredible view of the city - as an old woman with a mouth like Nonny's told us about the LDS church. Apparently you have to be "worthy" to be married in the church. You can't drink coffee or alcohol or smoke. You have to go through countless interviews to get in. No thanks!

The road trip had been uneventful up until Wendover, where we stopped for snacks at Smith's Supermarket full of freak shows, and said goodbye to the Utah border. As I was pulling out my notebook to write this, Hannah non-chalantly said, "we're getting pulled over." Of course I geeked out laughing because what else can you do? The officer appeared next to me, shining his flashlight at our laughing faces. He pulled Hannah out of the car and interrogated her to see if she had drugs, money or (me) in the vehicle. She laughed the whole way through. He was baffled by the idea of two Wisconsin girls in Nevada going to California. Believe it, son!

I didn't expect snow. I didn't expect white as I approached the California border (which I got us to after almost smashing the Jetta because of my poor stick handling). But alas, I found out that this is where Tahoe is, and there is snow. Lots of it. The Sierra Nevadas, like the beer. Yeah. The man at the road side convenient store told us that we wouldn't get through the pass without chains, so we went to my favorite place to stop while on a road trip : Walmart. I cringed at the bright lights and the low prices as Hannah calmed her dad down on the phone. We ended up staying the night right where we were, just outside of our destination state, in Reno, Nevada : Vegas' bastard son. A Motel 6 to be exact, the flashing neon lights blinking in our window. We woke up early and took showers with towels on the shower floor so we wouldn't get athletes foot. We successfully put the chains on the tires (yeah bitches!) and made our way through Donner Pass. California finally turned green and the rain fell as the silence did on us. We had made it.