We woke up in Windwhistle today, a BLM campground on the way to Moab. On our way out of Blanding yesterday we stopped off at the gas station/A&W/bowling alley to let the kids bowl a few frames. Lowe threw three balls before becoming bored with it. “Me done.” We have to remind ourselves sometimes just how young he still is. Ouest bowled three games and would have kept going all day.
On the road north the weather went from gorgeous to torrential rains in seconds. We were passing through a small town when Ali spotted a library with a Books For Sale sign out front. Salvation. Four bucks for a good pile of books. The rain blew through and we made our way to the campground where the kids could play happily knowing they wouldn’t be getting a shower that night.
After we rousted ourselves we drove a bit more to the Needles Overlook. Man, Utah is amazing. Such a beautiful state. We eventually ended up in Moab.
Seventeen years ago today Ali and I got married. And since we’ve been getting this question non-stop this past month or so, we decided now was as good a time as any to let you all in on the secret to our successful marriage.
It worked for the Cleavers right? Seriously though, when we bought the bus from three thousand miles away we figured that the fold down dinette chairs would be where we would sleep. Only when we got on the bus the first time did we discover just how ridiculous that idea was. The seats do fold down (well actually we’ve never gotten one of them to work quite right) but they are neither long enough nor wide enough for the two of us. Even the VW bus would have been spacious accommodations comparatively. So, the only other option was the bunks. This bus came designed with this pretty cool bunk bed system where the back cushion of the couch lifts up and snaps onto the ceiling with what are essentially seat belts. And it isn’t just the back cushion that you see when the couch is down, but there is in fact another piece that folds on hinges behind the couch, which makes the bed wider when it is put up. So anyway, for however long the bus trip lasts we get to act like we are back in my college dorm room, and I get a place to hang my Farrah Fawcett poster.