Days 22 through 25 - Cedar City

I know what you're thinking: that's a lot of days for 1 city; I haven't settled down and gotten married though.

* * * * *

Nic has a pretty sweet gig: as long as he gets his work done, he can shift his day up to 2 hours earlier or later as he pleases. He also works 32 hours because some European company did a study finding after 32, people just didn't wanna work either way, something about morale and feeling oppressed. His company decided to give it a try and productivity didn't change, so they kept it. The 32 hours doesn't really matter here but I just thought it's something the rest of the world should know about. Because of the shifting hours though, Nic decided he'd probably go to work around 10 on Monday. Having stayed up pretty late blogging and drying clothes, I end up using that reason to get up at a later hour, too.

Nic helps me get my stuff to the car, I thank him for the stay, give him his parking pass back, and it's off to the next destination: Great Basin National Park.

Before leaving Moab one night, a fellow arrived who had just been to Great Basin. He heard me mention it and told me, “Everything's shut down, man. The entire place is frozen over. You can try though.” Having been quite a few days of sunny weather, it's hard for me to believe too much of the park is still frozen over.

The drive from Salt Lake City to Great Basin, much like the one from Moab to Capitol Reef, is long and arduous. I never would've guessed roads like these existed before taking this trip, because we don't have roads like this in South Carolina. There are signs that say, “No Services Next XX Miles.” On the last stretch of road for this trip, I believe it was 86 miles. No services means no gas, no restaurants, no motels, and probably very few homes. These areas generally also have no good radio stations and no phone signal, making it very hard to pay attention to the road and a real bad situation if you crash. They do, however, have some very beautiful landscapes, including one I'd always wanted to see:

At first, I thought I'd found a body of water in the middle of nowhere, and that's exactly what people dehydrating in the desert think; it was a mirage. Behind the grass in this picture is a large, flat body of white sand. It's the same type of area Will Smith dragged an alien through in the movie Independence Day and I've always wanted to see it ever since; it's not until this point in the trip I realized what a big impact Independence Day had on my life.

At first, I planned on just taking a picture with my phone and continuing on. But the sand started to look so much like water, I wanted to go out and see it up close. Pulling over, the first thing I see is a large herd of antelope:

Apparently, they're much easier to find randomly pulling over in a desert than searching an island named after them.

I walk towards the sand. I'm not sure how far out it was, but I kept looking behind me to make sure no one had pulled over to inspect my car: only 2 cars passed while I was out.

The ground feels surprisingly moist to be in a desert; I bend down to touch it with my hand, and it squishes like raw cookie dough: it's very odd.

I head back to my car and continue along. I've still been trying to drive safely, and especially on these long roads where it's hard to not max my pedal out, I have to control myself to drive for endurance rather than speed, and it's a good thing I do, because going around the corner of a mountain I almost hit one of these guys:

What in the hell? Wouldn't that be something, to never hit a deer in my life, but I take a trip out west and ruin my car with a sheep. I get out to take a picture and then hear a sound...it sounds like...cattle bells. It's coming from a guard rail on my right. I look over the railing and...there's hundreds of them.

They all have numbers spray painted on them. I see a small trailer where whoever owns them must live. I also saw several black sheep, which were actually brown, and a lot more common than I thought.

Moving on, I find another spot with a turnoff that makes a gorgeous view for a picture:

Some of you won't get this reference, but near the end of the drive I start to realize this place seems to be the real life setting of the game Shadow of the Colossus. It doesn't take a lot of effort to imagine riding a horse into this area and fighting giants. The way it changes from desert, to hills, to mountains...to sheep...and it's all so massive it makes you feel tiny, like this is the place where mountains are slain.

I continue on to finally arrive at my first service in over 80 miles. This is also my first time in Nevada, so it's suiting the first gas station I find also has slot machines.

Reaching the National Park, the primary Visitors Center is closed. I still fill up on water and get a map to discover there's 2 main roads in the park. Great Basin is another one of those parks I don't have anything I particularly wanna do, so I decide to pull a Ger and Kenji and randomly pick a road. I head up it until I reach a blocked off area: it's closed. Much like the man from Moab said, there's snow all over the road.

I look at the map again and realize the highest peak in the park is actually off the other road, so I'd rather go there anyway...and then I find out that road is closed, too. He was right: this entire place is snowed in. There's an alternate Visitors Center, but what are they gonna tell me? The roads are on the map, and the roads are shut down. There's a slight possibility of crossing over from a minor trail to a major trail, but I'm already irritable from driving 4 hours and now this entire park is frozen shut. How is the other Visitors Center even open? What are people visiting if there's nothing to see? Get out here and shovel some snow!

And so, not caring enough to find out, I take a picture of the highest peak in the park...

...and leave.

Unfortunately, not even leaving can be an easy task here: I've got no signal. Most National Parks don't have signal in them, but once you're out, there's a nearby town with at least 3G. Not here though. Here, there's a visitors board, across from a post office, surrounded by abandoned buildings. Pulling up to the Visitors Board, I'm surprised to suddenly get 1X signal with a triangle. I don't even know what 1X or a triangle means, but if I can get out of here with it, it's a miracle to me.

I try to pull my GPS up. I have enough signal to show where I am, but not enough to direct me somewhere else. I can also only see highways and interstates, no back roads, which means, according to what I can do, the only way to go...is the exact same way I came in. I just took 4 hours to get here, 30 minutes to realize the park is a bust, and now I've gotta go back through an hour and a half of no man's land before reaching a town that might have signal. The fact this managed to not be the worst day of my trip both amazes and humbles me: it could've been worse.

After filling up at the slot machines, I drive until I hit Delta, the first miracle of a town you make it to leaving Great Basin and heading northeast. It's here I strategize on where to go next.

My next two destinations are Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks. I'd really like to get them done in 1 day if I can, because they're close together and neither has something I've really been looking forward to. I've also been falling behind on my blog, so I'd like to find somewhere with a Starbucks. I need a place like Colorado Springs where I can catch up for a little while. GPSing Starbucks, there's only one en route; it's in a little town called Cedar City. Checking Rest Areas on the connecting interstate, there's 1 about 5 minutes south of the town and it's about an hour from Zion: it's perfect.

So I head to Starbucks in Cedar City. There's a Walmart right across the street which makes this place even better. Arriving, I'm not met with the stereotypical, over-the-top friendly welcome I'm used to getting. I ask the cashier to give me a second, and when I come back to him, it's, “Yo, what can I get for ya.” It's not rude, it's just...unexpected. For a person like me, who'd rather not fake a positive attitude just to save face, it's actually kind of nice. I order a drink, and when they ask me for a name, I say, “Cloud”: I figure it's easier to handle than, “Kobie”. But for some reason, the cashier absolutely loves it.

“Oh man, seriously?”
“Yep.”
“That's awesome.”

I'm not sure what's so cool about the name Cloud, but I decide not to ruin it by mentioning it's my last name. Maybe this guy played a lot of Final Fantasy VII growing up.

Before leaving, he ask me if I'm in the military (must've seen my medical necklace) and we start a short conversation about why I'm here. He tells me if I decide to hit Zion and Bryce in the same day, I'll want to go by Bryce first: Zion has the better trails but Bryce has a scenic drive with amazing views I'll want plenty of daylight to see. Before I walk out, he adds, “Well, if you're ever passing through again, feel free to stop by. I definitely won't forget that name.” You won't forget Cloud...?

* * * * *

The next day, I oversleep until 10:00a. I remember my alarm going off, and as soon as I touched it, it stopped. Looking at it now, the phone is completely off. Turning it on, the battery is 50% full. This isn't the first time my phone has done strange things in the morning; I think it's happening because of the cold, so I decide I'll start sticking it in my jacket, which I sleep with on, so it stays warm.

Realizing I won't have time to make both parks, I head to Zion first. Zion, much like Capitol Reef and Great Basin, was a National Park I didn't particularly care to go to. Unlike Great Basin, it ended up being great.

I've started to develop a scale for how beautiful a national park is: how much does it remind me of Jurassic Park? If it looks like a dinosaur is about to come around the corner and eat me, it's a pretty beautiful park. Zion looks like the land that time forgot more than any other park I've been to so far.

I ask a Ranger in the Visitors Center what trails he suggest. I tell him I'm looking for a longer trail but want to see as much as possible. He has 2 suggestions for me: 1) Go to lots of smaller trails; they're all easy, but I can see a wide variety of things. 2) Go to Angels Landing. It's about 2 miles of basic, strenuous, uphill hiking, and the last half mile is to the actual landing.

"There's lot of steep switchbacks, and once you get close, there's a lot of sheer dropoffs, some where you have to use a chain to get across."

Going back to the car, I'm a bit nervous. He used the term, "sheer dropoffs," a lot in there. I don't like that word, "sheer." If it was just normal dropoffs, I'd be okay trying it, but these are SHEER dropoffs. And what's the deal with chains? That wall's gotta be like a vertical pancake to require chains. This doesn't seem like a good idea.

But then I think...Long's Peak wasn't a good idea either, but I still went for it. Granted, I only made it to the road leading to the parking lot, but I went for it! There are those who will say I didn't hike at Long's Peak, but I disagree: I hiked from the front left tire, to the rear left tire, to the rear right tire, to the front right tire. That was as far as I could make it, and dang it, I'll see how far I can make it up Angels Landing.

Arriving at the trailhead, I'm surprised to see a mass of cars parked in the area. Am I the only one who thought this was a bad idea? The map shows there are several, easier trails in the area. Good, I'm not a coward, I'm just gonna look like one in front of lesser hikers.

The trail starts exactly as the Ranger said: lots of steep switchbacks. For those who don't know what a switchback is, it's when a trail goes back and forth and back and forth, as opposed to going in one direction the whole time. It's similar to how some roads in the mountains are because the land is too steep to drive straight up. Reaching the end of the switchbacks, I arrive at the observation point before Angels Landing.

And this is the point I need to climb up to reach Angels Landing:

You can just barely catch a glimpse of some of the chains in that 2nd picture. It's not just part of the trail that has them, it ends up being most of it; I'm not sure if I should be comforted or distraught by this.

Before heading up, I take a break to catch my breath and end up meeting a little friend:

Well, maybe just an acquaintance: we didn't talk much.

And so, I head up the peak. At first, I'm very nervous. Looking down, it's a long fall, so the few areas that don't have chains make me very anxious. I'm not sure why I did it, or at what point it was, but at a certain point I decide to stop looking down. I completely block out the fact I am over 1,000 feet in the air and pretend like I'm at ground level. Suddenly, I'm climbing like a spider monkey. Chains? Who needs chains? These rocks are plenty wide on their own and the breeze isn't that strong. With a clear mind, I run up the the mountain and reach the top plateau earlier than expected. The last walk to the peak is entirely on a slant, leading to a "sheer" dropoff, so I finally decide to slow it down:

From the final point, I take pictures in all directions.

After taking a few minutes to appreciate I didn't avoid this trail due to fear of sheer dropoffs, as well as spotting a couple more chipmunks, I head back down, using gravity's help to go a little faster and snapping a couple more pictures along the way.

Running down the switchbacks, I pass a foreign couple I passed on the way up Angels Landing: "You're so fast, you are professional hiker!" Well, I'm not sure about professional...maybe semi-...

The trip was well worth the risk. Returning home (Rest Area), I notice a California tag in the left lane. I've seen California tags all over the place in southern Utah: these people love to vacation here. It's a 3 lane highway, which is odd, because there's not enough traffic to deserve 3 lanes. The speed limit here is 80 though, which is awesome. It's upsetting to me, though, when the California car moves from the left lane to the middle lane, right as I'm coming up on a tractor trailer. Now they're right beside me. Why would you cruise in the left until right when I need to pass and block me in? I have this theory that a certain percent of drivers want to hold hands with me as they drive, and that's why they drift right beside me at my speed. Screw this though: I floor it to 90 and cut the driver off to make the pass just in time to look in my rear view mirror and see the officer in the left lane. It's in this distinct moment I hated anyone driving a car from California.

I'm not sure if it was 2 tractor trailers or 1 double trailer tractor, but I blew past it and immediately slow down. Forgetting my cruise control was on, I accidentally turn it off and slow down to no more than 75 before realizing it. Cutting off someone at 90, slowing down to 75, then speeding up again to 80: the only way I could've grabbed more attention is if I'd opened my sun roof and chunked a pole with a red flag attached to it through the officers windshield.

Surprisingly, no lights, but he's definitely looking at me now. I consider taking an exit but there are no services. I can imagine that conversation:

"What were you doing pulling over here, son?"
"Pumping...eating...er...trying to get away from you."

Me in the right lane, I start to pull up by a car in the center. I think to myself, "If I pass her, is he going to pull me over for passing on the right, or pull her over for smuggling contraband?" I decide to risk it, and right as I start to pass, the line between us disappears: shit...these lanes are merging.

I consider hitting brakes, but I've got no idea who's behind me right now, and I know there's a chance she'll hit brakes too if she sees me, so I decide to floor it. I've got plenty of time to avoid hitting her, but it was certainly closer than it should have been. Looking in my rear view, she doesn't appear very happy about it, but I think she'll get over it, because the officer gets behind me, and the lights come on.

After getting pulled over in Texas, I thought about trying to get pulled over in every state but decided that was a bad idea. My first thought when getting pulled over though, was, "Doesn't mean I can't keep count." 2! 2 states I've been pulled over in! Ah-Ah-Ah!

I have my driver's license, insurance, and registration ready before the officer makes it to the window. He says, "I pulled you over for...what just happened back there." He pauses. I wonder if this is some sort of officer mind trick. Is he talking about passing a tractor trailer going 90 or speeding up to make a merge? I almost say, "Which thing?", but realize that's a bad idea, so I remain silent.

"You were supposed to yield to the other vehicle at that merge back there. You weren't supposed to speed up to get in front of them."
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see the sign."
"There were 2 signs: 1 about a mile back, and another about a quarter mile back." *pause*
Okay, then I missed 2 signs: is that what you want me to say here?
"You almost caused a wreck back there." *pause*
'Almost' is a subjective term that I, the culprit, disagree with, but I'm not gonna tell you that.

He seems to be a nice guy, very compassionate (probably Mormon), but I just don't get the pauses. He goes through the normal, where you headed, what are you doing there, and I let him know of my adventure. He looks in the backseat.

"I see you got your sleeping bag there. You been sleeping in your car?"
"Yes, sir, I've been sleeping in my car at Rest Areas."

And I don't know why it happened. Maybe it was because I was out of state. Maybe it was because he felt bad about me sleeping in my car. Or maybe it's because I looked like shit having just gotten done hiking 5 miles on a mountain. But the next words he spoke were,

"I'm gonna give you a warning, but I should really give you a ticket for that stunt you pulled back there."
"Thank you, sir."

It takes him a while to fill out the warning. I'm not sure why, I think he might've been talking about me over radio, but he seemed to know he took a while, because coming back he said,

"Thank you for your patience, sir."
"You're welcome, sir."
"So how long you think you're gonna be on the road for?"
"I figured about 6 months, but I'm moving a little faster than expected, so maybe around 4. That, or until the money runs out."

Then he said something I really didn't understand:

"I just don't get why a man without a job for 6 months wouldn't be looking for work." *pause*
I don't...what?

I told him I'd saved up the money for it. I'm young, single, and can afford to do it. Why would I not want to travel the country? Do you...do you actually like your job? You enjoy getting up according to a schedule someone else has set for you? Isn't the whole purpose of a job to make enough money to retire? I just don't understand the question.

Leaving the stop, I try to merge beside a UPS tractor trailer that moved left for the officer. He moves back right for me as I'm getting on. Thanks, I'm sure the officer has no regrets on letting me go with a warning now. What can brown do for me? Not demolish me with an 80mph triple tractor trailer. I did cut somebody off though, so it's what I get.

While I love getting out of a ticket as much as the next guy, don't consider my joking a sign I didn't learn anything. Lane downsizing is something I admittedly have trouble with. The I-20 downsize near the Augusta to Aiken border has caught me several times; it's something I need to work on, I just have a piece of paper to prove it now.

After it was done, I noticed something very peculiar about this stop: I wasn't nervous at all. The very first time I was pulled over, in Augusta, GA, I was slightly nervous. I handled it a lot better than most first timers though; I didn't cry or beg or plead with the officer. I just accepted what it was and moved on. In Texas, I was even less nervous but still anxious based on the overall confusion of the situation and having a gun in the trunk. This time, meh. Here's my information, I was doing something wrong, nobody got hurt for it, hope you have a nice day, and I'll try harder next time. My point is, I'm getting really good at being pulled over. I don't think that's a skillset I should put on my resume though.

Getting back to Cedar City, I go into the Starbucks. The guy from last night isn't here. They ask for my name, and I say, "K...Cloud." That was close; don't wanna lose my disguise.

* * * * *

After going to Zion, I was hyped for Bryce Canyon National Park. It was 2 hours away from the Rest Area, but if it's nearly the surprise Zion was, it'll be well worth it. I head for the Visitors Center first, not knowing what trails to take again. The Ranger gives me a run down of all the trails but is sure to let me know, "If you get the chance, you should really take the drive all the way down, and on your way back, all the observation points will be on your right. They're all beautiful views." Heeding the combined advice of the Ranger and the Barista, it seems the drive is the way to go at this park. If I find time for a trail, I'll take one, but the drive is the thing to do. I head all the way down to the farthest point of the main road. Driving there though, all I see is a bunch of pine trees and snow. It reminds me of driving a South Carolina interstate. And this is when I realize the ugly truth: I've become a National Park snob.

I'd felt it coming earlier, when I started to complain about seeing too many rocks, but Capitol Reef and Zion restored my faith that every Park had something unique worth seeing. But here I was, complaining to myself about the great outdoors because, "C'mon, mountains with trees on them? Show me something new, please."

My morale for this park was suddenly down, but still, I looked at all the major observation points and came out with a handful of interesting pictures:

It might be kind've hard to understand what's going on here, because everything blends in so well. It's a whole bunch of thin rock columns, called hoodoos, sticking up in the air, nearly as far as the eye can see. They're made pretty much the same way all the other interesting rock formations in the southwest are: water, freezing, erosion, bla, bla, bla (again, I'm becoming a snob). Here's what you're looking at a bit closer:

Why hoodoos form so vastly and similarly in such a small area, I couldn't figure out though. It seems to have something to do with chemical weathering. I never figured out which chemicals were doing the weathering, but it would probably make the park a lot more interesting if you found out before going. There's also the Wall of Windows, which was pretty neat, because it was made by a top layer of sediment shifting one way, and the sediment below it shifted opposite until the window was formed. That's not a complete explanation because I didn't completely understand those concepts either, but a geologist might be able to tell you!

This a special feature of the park called Thor's Hammer, which I didn't even intend to take a picture of.

What happened was, at Bryce Point, I overheard another lady saying, "There's Thor's Hammer," to her husband. I looked down and took a picture of what I thought looked most like Thor's Hammer, which was this rock:

Later, at another observation point, I finally decided to take a trail. Along the way, I thought, "Eh, this rock kinda looks alright, I'll take a picture of it." Googling, "Thor's Hammer Bryce Canyon," afterwards, I discovered the "Eh" rock was actually Thor's Hammer. To the extent of my knowledge, the other rock isn't anything.

The trail I took, Navajo Trail, didn't lead to anything too exciting. Half way through it, I saw a sign saying, "Wall Street Closed". Not being Navajo Trail, I continued. I only discovered Wall Street was part of Navajo Trail once I got to it: always take a map.

One of the most interesting things I saw in the park was a sign I first thought was for beaver crossing, but upon closer inspection, I realized it was for groundhog crossing. The more interesting part is that right around the corner, I saw a groundhog:

If you like cute little animals, Bryce and Zion may be the National Parks for you.

After hitting all the observation points, I head back to Cedar City. I'd considered going forward, but I couldn't figure out where I was gonna stay if I did, I just went a couple hundred miles over my next oil change, and my front tires are starting to thin. Cedar City was the safest place I could go for the night.

I head to Starbucks to do some more blogging, and a little under middle-aged woman was at the cash register. I order a drink and she ask for my name. I tell her, “Cloud”.

“How do you spell that?”
“C-L-O-U-D.”
“Oh man, so it's just like straight out there! That's awesome!”
What in the world is going on here...

Later, trying to remove a bag from the trashcan, the same worker yells, “By the power of Greyskull, I have the power!” She definitely played a lot of Final Fantasy VII growing up.

* * * * *

I do some googling the night before but don't find any car places that particularly stick out. Doing another fast search in the morning though, I find MCO Tire and Service Center. They've got good ratings and their honesty is spoken highly of; that's not something you often see in a car mechanic, so I go there to get my oil changed and front tires replaced.

After the job is done, the desk man, who'd I'd had some conversation with, and found out was part owner, told me the mechanic was having a look around (as they often do) and noticed the timing belt was expired and I should try to get it changed when I had the time. He also suggested flushing the transmission fluid when I got the chance. The timing belt (and water pump) are what the mechanic in Houston wanted to charge me 900+$ for. This guy didn't push a sale on me, he just wanted me to know, so I figure I might as well ask, “How much would having the belt changed cost me?”

While he's looking it up I quickly start googling how much it should cost. 400-1000 is the average range. I also pick up that depending on the type of engine, having it break mid drive could cause a lot of damage.

“The timing belt replacement would cost you around 400+$. If we did the water pump while we were in there, it would be about 500+$.”
“When could I get it done?”
“We have the belt today, but the water pump kit we don't have. We could get it in for tomorrow.”

Deciding that's a fair enough deal, I tell him I'll be back tomorrow to get it done. Having nothing left in the area to do, and not wanting to loiter the Rest Area all day, I decide to go to the public library.

It's not often I have nothing to do during the hours the library is open. All day I travel and see things, and the things I want to see generally have the same hours as a library, so I don't even try. But now, it's around 10:00a and I have nothing to do the rest of the day. On my way there though, I remember there's a college near by. “The only adults who go to libraries are people who go to college. I think the college I passed had it's own library. I'm gonna be the only grown ass man in a library. I'd rather spend 3$ at Starbucks.”

So I turn around and head to Starbucks for a couple hours. I leave for lunch and, afterward, think, “Oh my gosh, I do not wanna have to spend another 3$ just to be stuck in a Starbucks all day.” I look at the reviews of the library. Several of them are from adults who go there just to get books to read. Really? People still read books? Like, physical, non-digital books? I am in a technologically spoiled generation.

So I go to the library and find many adults there. Realizing this is an absolutely free place for people to just walk in and hang out all day, I quickly decide I'm probably not the only homeless person here. Sure enough, I see a man with what must be all his belongings in a real life hobo sack thrown over his shoulder, looking through the periodicals section. After about an hour of peaceful typing, another homeless looking man sits in a chair 25 feet or so away from me. After a little while of keeping the peace, he decides he should contact me.

“Hey, hey. Scooz me. You, you help me?”

Oh great, here it goes...these are the moments that make people not wanna be charitable anymore. The man says something about, “Glass, glass,” as he points to his flip phone. I've got no idea, what he's talking about, but I suggest, “You forgot your glasses?”

“Yeah, I forgot my glasses. I can't tell, how do I call this?”

The name, “Maritza,” is highlighted on his phone. I press the dial button for him and give him back the phone. “Here you go.” “Oh, ok.” He waits a moment, and then, “Oh, she turn her phone off.” He gives me a slight smile, like, “Oh, that Maritza, you know her!” No, I don't, and I don't know you. “Happens.” I walk back to my seat. A few minutes later...

“Hey, hey, can you help me?”
“What is it?”
“I need to get to *muble address*, is just down street. My sister not pick up. You can help me with the ride situation?”
It's amazing how badly he couldn't get the address out but how clearly he said the last sentence. “No, sir, I can't. I just don't give rides out to strangers. I hope you understand.”
“Is alright, I understand, I understand.”

A few minutes later, he talks in my direction, but not directly to me,

“I need a number for a taxi or something.”
“You need a taxi number?”
“*mumble mumble mumble*”

The last mumbling sounded pretty derogatory, but not knowing for sure, I won't say what I think he said. I google taxi numbers in the area. I walk over and show them to him.

“What these are?”
“You wanted a taxi number right?”
“These are local taxis?”
“Yeah.”

And then, with that beautiful, shining, grin on his face, “No man, I ain't got enough money for that.” That grin that says, “Me and you are friends though, so you'll offer me some help now, right?” No, I won't. I've been living in a car for almost a month and you feel the need to ask a stranger for a ride to your home, because you can't get in contact with Maritza on your cellphone. You have two perfectly good legs, and it would appear a lot of time on your hands: pawn that cellphone for taxi money or walk, bitch.

A little while later I go over again because he's lost on his phone. He ask me to dial his sister, who ends up being Maritza. A few minutes after that, he gets a phone call. I'm not sure if it's Maritza or not, but I hear him say, “You know, I've just been walkin.”

You walked here? You willingly put yourself in this place with your own 2 feet but still want to nag me for assistance to get home?

There's a saying I once heard, a republican is a democrat who's been mugged. Putting party specifics aside, I think the saying carries a lot of weight. Everyone wants to be nice. They want to be helpful. They want to be charitable in a way that improves the world. Then a jackass with his cellphone bugs you into hoping the roof collapses on him. I'm not trying to say what's right or wrong among that, just expressing, logically, how it happens.

My computer is fully charged, so I decide to go the Walmart parking lot to type up a blog entry offline: it seems to be a loiter safe zone. Afterward, I go to the Cedar City Starbucks for the last time.

“Cloud.”
Nothing.