The Day 2 Continued Some More!

It’s day 5 of the Iowa/Chicago trip, I’m sitting in the Cyprus restaurant with working wifi trying to recall events from 3 days ago. So much has happened since day 2 it’s hard to recall the relevant bits. Luckily I kept notes, knowing wifi sucks on the road and cellular is a joke out in the sticks. 

We left off with “no good day goes unpunished!” I’m headed to St. George for the night, heading to Zion for Day 3. Don’t want to miss that!

Utah, at this point looks pretty much like Nevada. Hot. Dry. Desolate. Towns are small and really well kept. Like the inhabitants still care, unlike my current home state. Nevada can be a bit shitty. Well, dilapidated shitty as well as Sharon Angle/Cliven Bundy batshit crazy shitty. Anyway, I wasn’t in a photo taking mood at this point of the trip and neglected to document a good portion of the journey. As it turns out, St George was a few miles off course from my route to Zion. I could’ve slept in a state park for $10 bucks instead of this rathole.

Who am I kidding, I love staying at these horrid examples of trashy Americana! From the funky retro Route 66 neon signs, to the teenage hookers trying to get a room for herself and her “boyfriend.” This particular spot had the white trash chick sitting in a chair on the 2nd floor, half in the room and half out, chain smoking and talking on the phone about how child services says she has to be with the child 24/7, no leaving the kid with the neighbor and what fucking bullshit that is. Ah, Utah! Just like home..
Let’s take a look at the accommodations.

The entire place had tile floor, much like what I imagine you’d see in a slaughter house. Guess it makes it easier to bleach out the crimes. You haven’t lived until you’ve taken a shower in a skanky hotel and walked across sweaty moist, textured ceramic tiles. It’s slippery and squirmy and makes you want to soak your feet in Lysol. 

It seems clean and nice, but the devil is in the details. Did I mention NO TOWELS! Not even a place to hang towels conveniently next to the immaculately “clean” shower. 

The lady at the front desk told me the towels were not ready, that I should go over to the motel next door to get towels from them. She said they were both owned by the same people. Yay!
No one was in the office. I kept yelling “HELLO! Anyone home?” Minutes passed. I turned around to leave when suddenly, a heretofore invisible mirrored door swung open. A nervous looking Indian guy came out. He told me he didn’t have towels but would bring me some later… Good god.

I decided to get food. Nothing was open except for the usual god awful fast food joints. I threw my self respect to the gutter and went to McDonalds. Have I mentioned how difficult it has been to get decent food and coffee during this trip? Food was usually available along the way as long as I didn’t mind tearing open a bag or microwaving a burrito. Ick. At McDonald’s is when I found out that my debit card was being declined. Guess you really do need to send the bank your travel itinerary. You have never felt rock-bottom until you’ve been declined at a Mc D’s.

Denny’s. I ate at Denny’s. I’ll just end tonight’s blog with that shameful nugget. 

Thankfully, at the end of day 5, I am here in Durango in this friggin’ amazing hotel, sitting in the Secret Garden with a glass of wine, enjoying the thunderstorm playing out around me and putting the finishing touches on this blog post.


About heartajack

I'm a graphic designer and occasional filmmaker that recently discovered the awesomeness that is the Can-Am Spyder Roadster. In recent years I've become obsessed with food and learning how to prepare it. I make the best damn ribs...EVER.
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