After L.A., we flew to SLC to drop the girls off to see their grandpa and enjoy a few days in my Wasatch mountains before Nathan and I headed out for our last leg of our trip in Glacier National Park. We only had a few days for me to dissuade Nathan of his wrongheaded idea that I grew up in the country so I was strategic with our activities. The mountains were first priority, followed closely by opportunities to seek out fry sauce and shakes. A few surprising things happened during our stay. First, I was uncharacteristically nostalgic and reached out to some old friends to reconnect. I am usually not interested in revisiting the person I was in high school but it was really nice to see friends and talk about our idiotic youth. Also, it felt comfortingly familiar to drive around Salt Lake, something I haven't done in many, many years. The roomy expanse of perfectly square and numbered streets with those familiar mountains marking the East felt so much like home. It is the exact opposite of driving in New Orleans - something I fear I will never be comfortable doing.

We spent Monday afternoon at Red Butte Gardens, one of my favorite spots in all of SLC, with dinner with friends on Ogden's revitalized 25th Street. I was too daft to take a pic with friends, but I did stop by my childhood home and got a grainy shot there. Hasn't changed hardly at all.

Tuesday we hiked in the breathtaking Millcreek Canyon and had dinner with another old friend near the U. Man, I love these mountains.

Wednesday we hiked a ways up the back of Timpanogos, one of the most beautiful places on God's green earth. Our morning start was too slow to have enough time to make it all the way up, but we made it to the snow fields and considered that good enough.


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