Smile-breaks
Got'ta go!
My new two-year-old car is sitting in its glorious "rosewood metallic"—red—splendor, impatiently tapping its tires on the concrete driveway. "Come on! We got'ta go!"
I toss a bunch of clothes in a suitcase, grab a few munchies and a couple of water bottles and my handy-dandy laptop and hop into the front seat. Road trip, here I come!
"I'm ready!" I say as I punch the start button on the console and "brrrmm," the motor jumps into action. We're on our way. No cares, no responsibilities. Seven whole days of talking to myself, navigating freeways, meeting new hotels and exploring new places. Freedom!
Once we get to it from I-8, it's I-15 for a bunch of miles heading north toward Vegas. Which I'm not stopping at. The car, which I think I'd better name so you'll know who the other person in the "we" remarks is. Let's call her Nellie. I think that will do. Nellie and I are headed to Utah but first to Nevada. Mesquite will be our first stopover.
Nellie's looking gleefully at the southbound traffic on the other side of I-15. Cars, semi's, SUVs, trailers, are jammed up at full stop for miles and miles. Going our way, the freeway is humming with vehicles heading north at full speed—70 miles an hour here in California. Okay, maybe a little more than 70. . . And Sirius keeps us company with rock 'n roll, country, symphonies, whatever feels good in the moment.
Hours later, we stop at the Holiday Inn Resort Mesquite. It's huge! It's new all over! Love it! 
Next morning I sleep in, then have breakfast before Nellie takes us through amazing rock formations and onto I-70 east to Beaver, Nevada, to the Crazy Cow Café. We'll lunch here and browse their gift shop. I first saw their fun name and logo near their exit several road trips ago and just had to go and check it out. Now it's a must-stop when I'm headed in that direction. The food's good and the gift shop's unique.
After lunch we continue on to Richfield, Utah, driving through behemoths of carved rock outcroppings, thoroughly enjoying Utah's 80 mile an hour speed limits. We pass through a small corner of Arizona, also with huge rock formations that take your breath away—speed limit here is 75, but that's okay. We can manage that, right Nellie?
The Ramada in Richfield is in the middle of town. It's okay, but I open the tired-looking gray drapes and a white kind'a old pickup looks back at me through the window. Not a vision of loveliness. The hostess confirms that all rooms back up to the parking lot, so I stay the night but cancel my reservations and make new ones back at the Holiday Inn in Mesquite. Bonus! No cancellation charges! Nellie agrees, everything in Mesquite is clean and new, a growing community; Mesquite is the place to go. So we do. Eighty miles an hour. . .
Big Rock Candy Mountain's on my agenda, so we veer off I-70 onto Highway 89, a pleasant, scenic two-lane road with green mountains, rock formations and the Sevier River rushing alongside it.
Big Rock Candy Mountain is a bust. Just a couple of closed-up gift shops, a row of unoccupied sixties style pastel pink, yellow, and blue motel units, and two guys digging up old pipes. We toodle on down the road. . .
I've run out of room. Butch and pickleball and the donkeys will have to wait. . .
Happy Fourth!