The beginning of a big trip is always an overwhelming experience, full of mixed feelings, goodbyes and as much excitement as one can muster at 6am. This one was no different.
Jen carefully timed her bout of flu to coincide with the majority of the packing for our trip, and thus left me to pack our car and contemplate just how much stuff can be crammed into a four-door sedan. Having succeeded in squeezing our lives into a car, with the bonus being that there was room for us to sit, we made our way out of
Los Angeles.
A departure from the west coast of America is only complete once a traveler has fulfilled one critical gastronomical task: a final meal at In-N-Out. I must admit that as far as fast food goes, this place is the best I have come across, even as a vegetarian, and the irony of a fast-food chain whose name describes not only your eating experience, but the digestive course of your food, seems only to enhance the enjoyment of the meal. It was thus with sadness that we sped away from Las Vegas, having gambled, drank and completed our final culinary mission, and set our sights on the Mormon capital of the world, Salt Lake City.
(Picture: In'N'Out...oh how you will be missed)
The beginning of a big trip is always an overwhelming experience, full of mixed feelings, goodbyes and as much excitement as one can muster at 6am. This one was no different. Jen carefully timed her bout of flu to coincide with the majority of the packing for our trip, and thus left me to pack our car and contemplate just how much stuff can be crammed into a four-door sedan. Having succeeded in squeezing our lives into a car, with the bonus being that there was room for us to sit, we made our way out of 
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