Salty

My first stop after Salt Lake City was--what else?--the Great Salt Lake. It's definitely a lake and it's unquestionably salty, but I can't really say it was all that great.







All those little black dots are actually little flies. They don't bite, but they made me really not want to follow my usual beach protocol of going barefoot.


For a brief moment I was excited to see black sand again. But let's face it: this is no Piha.


I next continued along I-80 through what are very appropriately named the Great Salt Flats. Check out how you can barely tell where the land ends and the sky starts. Yeah, that was fun driving. It totally didn't make me think I was dying in the middle of a desert and that the car was just a mirage.







Close to the Utah/Nevada border is a sculpture called "The Tree of Utah," as in the one tree in western Utah. Quite a sight.





The Tree was pretty sweet in that I got to get out of the car and actually walk around the salt flats. It maybe wasn't the best day to do it considering that it was in the nineties and I thought I was going to go blind from the glare of the cloudless sky on the sodium crystals. But yes, that really is salt. It made my skin all dry just from being out there for fifteen minutes



And I picked up a little souvenir on my shoes, in case I start to get lonely for the salted roads of Michigan.



If I ever had the fear that this country might one day run out of salt, it has now been completely alleviated.