My apartment was empty. A bike, a few books, a lot of dust on the floors, walls in need of paint, an empty fridge. But Catie suggested I join her, Rachel, and David for an excursion to Bear Lake, up on the border of Idaho.
Culinary specialties of Utah include street tacos, fry sauce, and milkshakes, and it was raspberry festival weekend in Bear Lake. Not pictured: a fresh raspberry shake that required a spoon and at least two people to eat it.
The sand at the beach was more like dirt. The shoreline buzzed with jet skis and motor boats and we breathed their fumes. And in true western style, the "parking lot" was extremely convenient--you drove right to the spot where you'd shake out your towel. An endless line of pickup trucks and SUVs hemmed us in.
But the sun and the company were lovely.
On the way back I forced these kids to pose for me. Yes, forced them, but I have no regrets.
One of Salt Lake City's finest amenities is the friendship of this wonderful lady.
And while I was gone, the city acquired some new street art. I am particularly smitten with St. Teresa, who has taken up residence just a couple of blocks from my new place.
Another amenity is Catie's backyard, complete with hammock.
From the hammock, Catie and I both phoned our fathers for their birthdays, which turn out to be on the same day--August 11--ages ago already. The hammock days are so quickly waning...
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