Gotta love that friction

In February 2008, we went to Utah to visit my sister-in-law‘s soon-to-be in-laws. Here’s the second oddest thing I saw in Salt Lake City:

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Utah is very snowy, with snow drifts far taller than I am. The first day there was the only super-cold day, but that was more than enough winter for me. I had the joyful of shoveling a small sports car out of the snow, only to have the driver immediately back into a snowbank. And then do it again. Did I mention the cold? And wind blowing old snow through the air.

The rest of the long weekend was warm enough (“warm enough” = in the 40’s) that we could walk the half mile to downtown Park City and avoid buying things. If the ski shop on every corner were the hot fudge, and if the galleries of paintings that fall short of Bob Ross on velvet were the sprinkles (with too-expensive restaurants and pubs as the walnuts), Park City is like a hot fudge sundae. A hot fudge sundae with a town museum and jail.

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It’s a little odd being a non-skiier in a town where it’s assumed by all that anytone walking on two feet will be strapping them into devices to rob one of all ability to stop moving. I like my friction.

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Snowshoeing is fun. I can see doing this more often. I felt like Ethan Frome, without the boring, depressing, can’t-stay-awake part.

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Before we left, we took a tour of the Latter-Day Saints campus in Salt Lake City. (That’s where I saw the cow jumping over the moon.) It’s quite beautiful, and the tour guides are amazingly happy and friendly. They no longer dress in white shirts and black ties, having been mistaken for security guards in the past. (We asked.)

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Click on the pictures for a larger version and more information.

Note: This was a forgotten and unloved post that I found in my drafts folder. It has now been remembered.

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