My ***, what a dump that Rawlins was! The hotel food was poor. The main employer was the prison. I was threatened by a muncher in the lobby, who told me that "little boys should stay away from him." I was happy when we left that sleazy little hole. When we left at a mileage of 2,112, I was glad to discover that Rawlins was much more beautiful in the daytime, while still horrific. It was twenty degrees. We all suffered headaches, shortness of breath and dried noses. Bunny didn't meow at all, surprisingly.

The rocks were interesting. They were layered, showing evidence of age. My mother said she would never learn how to read them because she would have to "buy books and study." Speaking of rock, there were absolutely no radio stations in Wyoming.

We also saw a number of freight trains, most of them half a mile long. This brought back memories of a friend of my mother's in Arizona, who was a train engineer before becoming the owner of a bead company.

Not much happened until our arrival in Utah, where we saw ducks bathing in the geothermal springs that were shadowed by the vast, beautiful cliffs. These cliffs made us decide that Utah was the most beautiful state yet, tied with Pennsylvania and its vast rainbow of vegetation. There were loads of sheep in Utah, all of them sheared and freezing. We passed Park City, which was not bothering to shake off the dust of the Olympics. After many more fascinating cliffs, little towns and Mormon temples, we arrived in the famous Salt Lake City.

At 3:39, we entered. We could only barely see the lake, which was vivid blue, but the city was impressive, many miles of buildings sprawled out in the shadow of beautiful, snow-capped mountains. We stopped in the great city for Subway, where I had an unusually spicy but delicious 6" roast beef sub with lettuce and tomato. All that time, our dog tried to crawl thought the windshield, whining like mad.

We got back on 80 after some frantic searching. We actually got close to the lake, and it was very blue. There were no birds, probably because of the salinity. There were many salt plants, belonging to such companies like Cargyll and Morton. Power plants were abundant as well, probably coal. In the rock-questioning state of Utah, there were a surprising number of good radio stations, but that didn't change the fact that the road going through the Salt Desert was easily the most boring stretch on the planet.

Then we crossed the Nevada line.

And everything changed.

For the worse. The signs went from nonexistent to cigarette outlets, triple-X, casino gambling, lotto... some guy named Kevin Smith won 50 grand. Typical Nevada scenery. By the time we arrived at our Elko hotel, I was a screaming wreck thrashing on the ground, driven to insanity by a limited song supply on my radio and all those other vicious Demons of Ennui.

This horrible casino/hotel, decked with ashtrays and dead antelope, is actually the nicest Best Western we've stayed at yet. Luckily, we arrive at our final destination of the City by the Bay by tomorrow.

Please.

Save me.

For the love of Mata Nui, why won't you save me?