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Here is the main source. Steamy. *

It was danged cold, certainly below freezing, with a forecast of nine degrees Fahrenheit, so after a quick shivery lunch at 3:30... *

...I soaked. And soaked. And read. And soaked, for hours. *

Just at sunset, a van drove up and a man from Moab (where I was headed next) joined me. He had very interesting tales of his career in Greenpeace, including hanging from the Golden Gate Bridge, planning a disruption at a Candian chlorine plant, and helping deliver a ship to Antarctica and patrolling the waters down there for a few years. He makes guitars and was headed to Oakland to learn some finer techniques from a colleague. These are not his legs. *

When the soak was through, I made a nest in the back of my liitle car (referred to from here on as the Jellybean Institue, jellybean for its appearance and institute for the history lectures I listened to across the country) and bundled up for the night. With the back seat detached and used as a cushion, and the passegner seat slip forward, there is just enough room for me to stretch out in back *

When I awoke I could not see out the windows for the inch and a half of snow that joined us during the night. *

dawn *

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So after a morning soak and banana/almond butter mash for breakfast I hit the dirt road again, thankful it didn't snow a foot. It wouldn't be a terrible place to get stuck for a while, however, and I had plenty of provisions. *

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