|SFO to St. George, Utah with a stop thru Las Vegas!|
Hey there, diary! I haven’t written in you since probably 6th grade when I wore purple tennis shoes and Jordache Jeans and me and my BFF had matching Farah Fawcett flip-doos and Grape Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers and, of course, combs in our back pockets. Roller-skating and slow dances on weekends with pimply guys, baby!!!
So here I am. Ready to head out finally on an Outdoorsy Mama Adventure. Sans my now 3 kids, husband and various PTA, doc apts, carpooling, sock sorting, work, and general COO of the family responsibilities.
How happy am I??? Hootin’ and hollerin’ all the way, baby!!!
Last minute pressure-cooker, honey-don’t-forget instructions aside, it was relatively easy getting out o’ the house -- even after needing to give a last minute, emergency how-to demonstration to my “uh-sure-honey” husband on how to brush then pull up, twist, band neatly, and then braid my twin 8 year old girls’ long hair each day for school. No long, flowing, lice picker-upper (we’ve been there, the horror!), Rasta hair for these two while I’m away.
Also texted a good friend – if u see them at school looking like wild mermaids, please run hair interference for me… I’ll owe you a clump of Goody hair bobbles…
Packed my bag with wild abandon ‘cause Southwest Air has free baggage and I’m throwing it all in for a change --- and --- yippee! Out the door & on the bus to the airport!
|Uh, What Happens in Vegas...|
Wild pack of young-somethings on the Vegas bound flight chanting drink-drink-drink! Guy next to me and I share a big smile. They’re bachelorette party bound no doubt, and there’s an energized spirit on the flight. As if we all agree that ANY adventure is always going to Rock if the adventure starts in Las Vegas.
First thing I see as I dance off the plane are six, 6-packs glistening on six chestly-naked Ozzie Hunks of Burning Thunder....... Yes, from Down Under. Who I immediately take a pic of and sent to my husband – sorry honey, not coming back.
But I tease. (Right?)
Don’t you worry, honey. This is just an eye-candy pit-stop for bored Cougars. I'm not changing my name to “Candy Delicious” and joining the troupe as a roadie for the week… (Right?????)
Oh, but I digress, dear diary! Off to get my bag…….
Woo hoo! Hopping into the van for the next leg of my trip (bus, plane, and now, van) the chatty driver, a few other Utah bound passengers and I are starting our 2-plus hour drive to my final destination: the orange capital of outdoorsy greatness, St George. Leaving Las Vegas, I wave goodbye to NYC, Ancient Rome, Egypt, Monumental Sweeping Eyebrow Shaped Sky Scrapers, a dangling amusement park ride on the top of Seattle’s Space Needle, and zoom zoom zoom! Right by the Vegas Nascar race track where you, too, can drive a Nas-car 120 miles per hour and please wear a seatbelt.
Leaving the steroidal human structures of Vegas behind, the view from the highway is turning to a dirty-rags, dull, pale brown. Let’s face it – the landscape is patoot-ugly for a while. I’m getting sleepy…
|Sunset over the Lava Fields in St George, Utah|
Ooh! Look! Hey, who's drooling on me?
We’re entering the Virgin River Canyon, winding thorough the shallow river bed, the towering walls start to burst with color --- the very reason I am planes-trains-and-automobile-ing to the bottom arch of the Mormon State….
There they are. The gorgeous, orangy-red, fresh-Bug-Juice-on-a-hot-summer's-day, colored rocks.
Good morning, San Francisco -- Good day, Nevada -- Good evening, Utah…..
I have arrived!!!!!
Namaste & Three Cheers! -OM