Kent Chamberlain and the Front Range Quest

Not long ago, I took a trip to Denver. A friend from Nebraska had stuff to bring to me, and it was too much stuff for him to bring in one trip. So we decided to meet up in Denver, which was about as far as he could travel between workdays.

Unlike previous trips, I tried a new path this time. I went south towards Ely, then drove across Highway 50 to I-70. This was the first day. After hopping on the interstate at Salina, I trundled on in the darkness until I found a rest area.

Utah got rest areas, y'all. Utah got the best rest areas in America. They have wifi and they look like pic related. This trip is going to be multiple posts long and chock full of pictures, and Utah having excellent rest areas is a big chunk of why. The morning I woke up east of Salina, I hung out for an hour or so checking the news before I went about my day. Considerate Mormons are considerate. I love Utah so much. Fix your weed laws and it might actually be a New Jerusalem.

There are several places along the road that aren't even rest areas per se; they have the basic bathroom facilities that Nevada considers a full-blown rest area, but they're mainly just a place to park and appreciate the view. Local Native artists also sell their wares there, and the state doesn't seem to bother them, which is cool.

I stopped at just about every single view area I saw. Speed isn't the point; I took most of the trip at 55 mph, and indeed drive most places at that speed to take it easy on my engine. So a bunch of unnecessary stops wasn't really a big deal. I still got to Denver with enough time to make the exchange, and hang out with my friend for a few hours before he had to drive back north.

I then went to refuel my loaded van, and discovered I was broke, and stranded almost a thousand miles away from town. Four hundred dollars I'd loaded onto my card from my Patreon (thanks for that y'all, BTW) just never showed up. And now I was in a town hollowed out by the Californian bourgeoisie, scrambling to even find a place to park the van long enough for the Patreon payment to process.

Well hell.

How did I extricate myself from the situation? What did I discover on the way back? Read the thrilling conclusion to this devilish cliffhanger in the next installment, "Kent Chamberlain and the River of Treasure," to be published on Monday. I'll publish a picture set from the trip to Denver on Friday to give you something to ogle. Considering I'm writing this on the Friday previous still, I think you might be able to say, tentatively, that the blog is back.