Sometimes when you travel the backroads, you end up at the Bates Motel. Other times, for a pittance in some old tumbledown place, you get blazing-fast wifi, a no-charge stay for your dog, and a picture window through which you can watch the sun set over mountains. Not bad.<\/p>\n
Then some woman (apparently in charge of rousing the members of a work crew) knocks on your door at 4:32 a.m. Apologizes. And comes back 10 minutes later and does it again. This time with no apology. Just turns and walks off when she sees you’re not the person she wants. (Have I mentioned how much I hate traveling?)<\/p>\n
I also have to take back what I said the other day about Utah having the biggest stretch of empty in the lower 48 (Okay, K.W., Alaska’s got the rest of ’em beat). Yesterday I traveled less than 400 miles, but that included two stretches of mind-bending emptiness, each more than 100 miles (the longest 120 miles) without so much as a gas station. Nothin’ but sagebrush.<\/p>\n
I dunno. Some of you guys can say you love this stuff. But as a woman traveling alone in a 10-year-old vehicle, I find this landscape absolutely scarifying. I keep running “what if I break down” scenarios through my head; none of them are pretty, and the two boxes of emergency gear in the back don’t lighten my mood. <\/p>\n
When not inspiring thoughts of abandonment, this landscape is mind-numbingly dull. Thank heavens for Ethel Merman. A remastered CD of the original Broadway recording of “Gypsy” has been stuck in my car’s player for months, and Mermanic song-belting is better than Red Bull for staying awake. The ebullient goofiness of “Have an Eggroll, Mr. Goldstone”<\/a> is good for about 50 miles, all by itself.<\/p>\n Okay, back on the road in a few minutes. But in the meantime, here’s some stuff I found via that rocket-fast wifi:<\/p>\n Sometimes when you travel the backroads, you end up at the Bates Motel. Other times, for a pittance in some old tumbledown place, you get blazing-fast wifi, a no-charge stay for your dog, and a picture window through which you can watch the sun set over mountains. Not bad. Then some woman (apparently in charge of rousing the members of a work crew) knocks on your door at 4:32 a.m. Apologizes. And comes back 10 minutes later and does it again. This time with no apology. Just turns and walks off when she sees you’re not the person she wants.…<\/p>\n\n