There...
I am writing this post on Saturday the 3rd. I will post it when I can because I have no internet. I just took 9 hours of my life and rode my motorcycle from Eagle Mountain to Las Vegas. Sounds fun, right? Well, not exactly. It was amazing riding through the back country of Utah; I planned my trip the back way. My first stop was Eureka, the first time I had even been there. The first thing I noticed was that the gas pumps had no credit card slots. I went in and asked if I needed to pre-pay for the gas, and the nice lady informed me that in Eureka "We trust you." I filled up and noticed a dugout cabin that belonged to Porter Rockwell.
I moved down through Delta and Milford where there were credit card slots, but you could just push "Pay inside" and they let you. I also discovered another interesting building, the International Order of Odd Fellows building.
They meet on Mondays at 8, if you are interested. I followed the back roads to Cedar City, and that is where my tale turns dark and miserable. From St. George to Vegas was like riding through a Furnace. I now understand why J. Golden Kimball said: "If I had a home in Hell, and a home in St. George, I would sell the one in St. George and live in Hell." By the time I got to Vegas I was burned inside and out. All told, it was a good trip, but not one I would do again; or would I.