Road Trip to Utah

We Drove All Night
We spent a week in Utah visiting a seemingly countless stream of  friends and family (most of whom are Oregon ex-pats). I always thought Meg's desire to drive to Utah during the night was crazy. But after experiencing it twice now, I have changed my opinion. The kids slept most of the way, it was cooler out, there was much less noise and traffic, and losing a day of sleep isn't that bad. Except for stops to expel our bladders (Eddie didn't go once) and re-fill the van's gas tank, we drove straight-thru, finally stopping at the Tremonton McDonald's for breakfast (I skipped, of course). Boy, did we make that place look classy.

Emmeline, the chicken poet

Jesus made the chickens healthy so we'd be happy.
Upon arrival Monday morning at my brother's house in the Sugar House neighborhood of Salt Lake City, Meg immediately retreated to the basement to take a nap. But the rest of us took some time to get to know the 14 chickens that live in the backyard. Eddie seemed the most enamored and spent much time chasing them around, trapping them in a cage, and petting and holding them (he also plead from the depths of his heart for us to bring home a chick that would later visit the house). Ian had similar amounts of fun, as did Aaron, although the exposure seemed to ignite his allergies, so he stayed away after that initial experience. My five-year old niece, Emmeline, eagerly introduced us to each chicken and told us everything about them, including their names and and quirky personality traits.We spent the rest of the day close-by, trying to acclimate to Utah's high desert air (no oxygen, dry skin, bloody noses) and hot temperatures. We did venture out that evening, I think, to a nearby school and playground.

I think he's turning Japanese, I really think so

Fly-fishing Virgin No More
I woke up before 6:00 a.m. Tuesday morning to go fly-fishing with my Dad, who picked me up at my brother's house before anyone else had arisen from their beds, and headed East over the mountains towards Heber and the Provo River. Not only was this my first experience fly-fishing, it was the first time I had seen the area of Park City and the Heber Valley. I had no idea such a green, flat place existed within the mountains--it was beautiful. I was also smitten by the Jordanelle Dam, which looked like it was made of pea gravel or granite or some other small and loose rocky material (not the usual concrete we see here in the Northwest). We pulled off the road at some lonely spot and prepared the equipment for what surely would catch us many trout that my dad said were overpopulated in the river. I was in shorts and a t-shirt, while my dad opted for long sleeves and waders. I shivered for the first hour or so while the sun figured out how to climb over the mountains, but by the time we left a few hours later I was sweating from head to toe. We spent about 2.5-3 hours flinging our flies into the river to no avail. I was using a standard rod and reel, while my dad flung his fly with a Japanese-inspired Tenga rod (which is how I fished--and caught billions of specimens--while in Japan). What we found most irritating was a group of four (dad, son, grandson, dumb dog) who barged into our same spot, and proceeded to catch fish after fish with little effort. Thanks for stealing our fish, jerks. My dad then dropped me off in Park City where I met up with Meg and the boys at Olympic Park.


There are more girls on earth, I think. That's because there are more boys in heaven. [Ed, of course]
A stage of the Tour of Utah was happening the same day at Olympic Park, so the main road up to the park was closed and we had to park at the bottom of the mountain and take a shuttle bus up. Hordes of people were milling around everywhere for the race,  but few were there to ride the zip-line and alpine slides. Mt. Hood has a similar park, but Park City's alpine slide was longer and faster and more enjoyable. Even though there were only two attractions for the boys to ride (Ian could ride the chairlift up and down, but that was it for him), they rode again and again and again and did not want to leave at 4:00 p.m., our predetermined time to depart for Shannon and Jeff's house in Highland (Utah County, between Provo and Salt Lake City). Fortunately the short lines led to many rides for all, except for one time when a bunch of girls got in front of Ed and I and caused a huge traffic jam on the alpine slide. These weren't little girls either--adults and teen-agers--and that's when Ed uttered his famous, random quote above.


Eddie: Dad, look: there's a tall mountain over there. 
Dad: Eddie, we're surrounded by tall mountains, and have been for three days now.


Meg's friend Shannon (and her husband, Jeff, my seventh-cousin) had recently moved into a house they had built, and it felt plenty big for our two families (they have five kids, and their three boys are similar in age to Aaron and Ed)--and when they finish the other bedrooms and living space and bathroom in the basement, it will be even better. We stayed around the house that first day (again, to catch up and avoid what felt like a crazy heatwave).

On Wednesday we drove to the neighboring town of Alpine to spend an hour at a huge, new park that had a prominent water feature for the kids. We left soon thereafter and returned home. Even though we didn't seem to do much while in Highland, the boys were very content to play with their "cousins," and likewise Meg to hang out with her friend (and her two little girls).

That night I met up with Brian Myers, a friend from Salem who used to be in my Sunday School class and with whom I share an affinity for fast and exotic Japanese cars. He's 20 now and working in Provo but considering a move to Portland for work and school and snowboarding. So it was part business (would he want to board with us?) and part pleasure. We ate at this over-hyped Hawaiian cafe (Meg and I enjoyed much better fare at a Hawaiian place in a converted gas station in Portland a few weeks prior) then saw The Rise of the Planet of the Apes.


Water, Water, Water Everywhere

We packed up all of our things Thursday morning and returned to Salt Lake City to go to Seven Peaks (formally Raging Waters). We had been to the Seven Peaks in Provo four years before, and Meg had taken the boys to a similar place last year. This time was no different: they played hard all day (at least, from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.) and didn't want to leave. Aaron and Ed pretty much traveled the park on their own (Meg must have been supervising from afar, but I'm not sure how she spent her time), while I stayed with Ian for much of the day. Ian couldn't voice his pleasure with words, but I could tell from his excited laughs and big smiles that he was in heaven. He rode the giant slides with me on an inter-tube until that tuckered him out (or was I able to convey my tiredness to his persona? Yeah, I'd like to see you carry that 30-pound kid up all of those stairs 10 times in a row), and I let him rest on my chest while I relaxed on a shady, grassy knoll. He actually fell asleep while we rode an inter-tube down the lazy river. I would have preferred to fall asleep with him while slowly moving along the fake river, but I had lost track of time and did not want to be late for our departure.

We drove back to my brother's house in Sugar House, where Meg met up with a friend who drove her away for the next few days to attend a conference nearby, while the boys and I fought rush-hour traffic on I-15 to visit my parents in South Jordan. Ian and Edward fell asleep during the 45-minute drive, which I safely navigated on my own (I don't drive much at all these days, so that's an accomplishment). Ian was very stand-offish when we arrived and wouldn't go inside my parents' house. I eventually had to just pick him up (screaming) and put him in the basement, where after 15-30 minutes on his own he warmed up and was happy for the rest of the stay. After dinner we took a long walk around the Daybreak neighborhood. I love all of the trails and paths and open green spaces and fake creeks and lakes--they make it easy to get lost (in a good way). We ended the evening with gelato at a nearby cafe--one of the new additions to the neighborhood since my last visit three years ago. My parents want to move now, which is kind of sad since the neighborhood is much better, in my opinion, since they now live in walking distance to a temple, outdoor swimming pool, and some basic retail shops and restaurants. Although would I be able to live amongst so many snobs? We drove back to my brother's house in Sugar House to end the late night.

(Not Much of a) Discovery Center

We woke up relatively early Friday morning so we could drive into downtown Salt Lake to visit the Discovery Center and catch an IMAX film at the planatarium--both things that we did as a family four years ago, and which didn't cost us a cent because of our OMSI membership. After finding parking at a nearby lot for only $2, we walked the few blocks to the Discovery Center. It left us a bit underwhelmed--we did appreciate the artificially-cooled air--as all of the exhibits seemed the same as on our prior visit (although this was Ian's first visit). But they really liked the IMAX movie, The Ultimate Universe, that we saw at the planetarium (Ian fell asleep within the first five minutes). It was a little past 1:00 now, and the boys wanted some lunch, so I took them to Applebee's, a place I knew all three would enjoy--and they did. They all ordered the same thing--the corn dog and fries package--and each ate all of his food. I tend to be less hungry when I'm moving around a lot in the heat, so the soup and salad more than sufficed for me. We drove close enough to Temple Square to see the Conference Center and the Salt Lake City Temple, but that was the extent of our visit. I'd love to walk around, go in the Visitor's Center, visit the church history museum, but I knew it would be suicide to drag the tired trio through what is mostly an adult attraction. I look forward to the day that my boys will be old enough to desire and appreciate such experiences. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in Sugar House, and this is where I think I got them all hooked on the original Nintendo, which was stationed in the guest room that Meg and I and Ian shared on our visit. You'd think that old games would appeal mainly to those who grew up with them. But no. Bubble Bobble, Mike Tyson's Punch Out, Kirby, etc. entertained the kids for hours.


Visit to a New Canyon

The three oldest Asay grand-kids

The Asays met up at Thanksgiving Point late Saturday morning to enjoy an outing in American Fork Canyon. My younger sister, her husband, and their three boys; my older brother, his wife, and their three kids; and my parents--driving their new Subaru Outback--comprised the caravan. Although we met next to the highway that would take us directly to our destination, construction made us take a very long detour back towards Salt Lake. During the middle of this, my Dad grew impatient and sped to the front of the caravan and proceeded to take us on a much longer detour over the mountain--very tough for us mini-vans in the back to keep up. We eventually found parking and staked our spot along what I think was the Provo River again. We roasted hot dogs, brats, and marshmallows, and the nine kids enjoyed building their own mini-rivers and reservoirs in the dirt and rocks lining the riverbank. The many trees and the coolness emanating from the river made our three-hour stay feel much more bearable.

No fear Eddie

After driving back to Salt Lake, my brother took us over to his friend Manny's house. Manny maintains a menagerie of unusual birds, including two emus, which he let the kids feed apples. Ed showed no fear chasing the emus around, despite warnings that if he got too close they would probably kick his face in all the way to the emergency room of the hospital.

Shortly after returning to my brother's house, Meg triumphantly returned from her sojourn, and all three boys ran outside screaming joyfully.


Sunday with the Mormons in Salt Lake

Yeah, my head is bigger than the moon

I love going to church early in the morning. I don't think Meg does, though, as she slept right through bacon and backyard-fresh eggs cooking and all of us leaving. Throughout our stay I frequently thought why the LDS chapels--which you see everywhere--have parking lots, because the congregations' boundaries rarely extend beyond a few blocks. Yet we were one of the few groups who actually walked to church--silly Utahans. Ian refused to go to nursery, and as a guest I wasn't about to push a crying kid on them, so we spent a lot of time walking the halls.
After church Meg--she did make it for the concluding worship meeting--immediately retreated to the bed in the basement for a power nap before the long drive to Oregon. I entertained the kids upstairs with my awesome mad lib skills. The key to a funny mad lib, I believe, lies in the delivery: you need to read with gusto and add as much drama as possible. After a filling dinner of pork and rice and vegetables--the last healthy food we'd have over the next day--we loaded the van and said what felt like a premature good-bye.

You Can Pump Your Own Gas in Oregon

Sunset over Daybreak

We left around 5:00 p.m. under cloudy skies--the first tainting of the sun we had since arriving a week earlier. The boys were well-behaved--perhaps a little excited to return to their own world in Oregon--through Utah and into Idaho. As the sun set and night rose, we began to see bolts of light flash in the distant sky. After refueling in Mountain Home and fixing the blowout that had become Ian's diaper, the lighting became intense. We could see bolts every few seconds, and we could see them hitting the ground. Then we started seeing fires that must have been the result. The excitement continued to about Boise, where we all more or less fell asleep. I was in and out of consciousness the whole drive, but at least I had that luxury. Meg, ever stalwart, guided us safely home without issue. The last stop we made, around 1 or 2 in the morning, I think, was at a gas station just a little east of Pendleton. There were quite a few cars there, but that wasn't the strange part: the signs on the gas pumps declared "self-serve only." What? You can't pump your own gas in Oregon. It must have been that we were on an Indian reservation, and normal state laws don't apply. I wonder what else they can do? Maybe they should build a casino--surely that would bring in tons of revenue. Anyway, we arrived home about 4:30 a.m. and moved to our beds to catch a few hours of sleep. After I unloaded the van I also hit the sack for an hour of napping before I rode off to the office for a day of work. I had planned on taking the day off, but we came home earlier than I expected and was feeling as rested as could be expected. Call me crazy, but I'd rather use that day-off for more important things.