Bear River then Orchestra in Evanston

It was a beautiful day to wake up in Chubbuck. The first thing I did was to stop at a little store I saw on the way into town. The sign said they had a filtered water vending machine, and I needed to fill up. As I did, the woman who worked at the shop gushed over River and told me the stories of all of her dogs.

The next thing I did was an attempt to visit the Bear Lake National Wildlife Reserve. I followed a sign onto a five-mile long gravel road. It was a marshy area with grass on either side of the road and a river on the left. I noticed that several flying insects that could have been bees were flying at the same speed I was driving. One was staying right at my window as if he were watching me or looking at what I had in the car.

 I finally found an information kiosk. It was a non-descript flier rack with maps of the area. In the time it took me to open the car door, walk to the kiosk, take a map and get back in the car, two of the bugs that could have been bees entered the car.

They weren't quite bees, but they weren't wasps or hornets. They weren't flies. Or maybe they were. I had never seen anything like them. They made a loud buzz whenever they moved and they had large bodies with a greenish hue.  I sat for a while contemplating what to do, but noticed that they were totally occupied with trying to fly through my windshield, so I felt safe enough to continue along the gravel road.

But as I went along, I noticed that the whole place was swarming with insects and birds. I quickly determined that I wasn't going to want to get out of the car anywhere near this marsh, so I took a side road and got onto the main (paved) road.

I drove out of Idaho, in fact, and into Utah.

I drove along the west shore of Bear Lake in Utah

 And eventually found a place we could get out and enjoy it.

Our route took an unusual jag at this point, as I was due to teach Orchestra in Evanston, WY.
That's shown as 221 10th St. on the map.
So on my way to Salt Lake City, I slipped into southwestern Wyoming.
 I had a couple of hours to kill in Evanston before it was time to show up at the studio for class. And I hadn't eaten much, so I thought I'd look for a burger place. It is a very small town, and I wasn't optimistic, but lo and behold I found one. And it had a drive-thru! Bonus.
So I got a burger (I blogged about it here) and ate it in the back of my car in the parking lot while River watched. Then I fed him in the same parking lot.
Still having a bit over an hour we stopped at Anderson park to hang out on the grass. We ran around a bit, too. Evanston is at an elevation of 6900 feet. I knew this and I could feel the thinness of the air, but it didn't make me winded like it would have in the past. I think I'm becoming acclimated to the altitude because of how often I go up and down.
After sufficient running, and some tug-of-war, we relaxed in the grass.

Two days ago, in Walla Walla, we were in an old, repurposed library. Today, in Evanston, we used a room in a repurposed antique post office. My host, Lisa has a studio there called Body Wisdom, where we had an awesome Orchestra class.
I have finally reached a place of mastery of the routine. Today was the first day I felt time differently. I had freedom to play and it seemed like I had a lot more time to give meaningful cues.
Lisa had organized a bit of a pot luck so we all stuck around afterwards and talked about Nia, driving, wildfires, nutrition and theater.
It was then another 90 minutes in the car to go back to Utah and check into my motel in Salt Lake City.
At this location, they seemed to be swamped. Two men were at the desk and neither of them acknowledged me when I walked in. One was looking down into the cash register counting the money and simultaneously having a conversation with a disembodied voice called Shirley from behind the partition. The other guy was on the phone and looking at the computer screen.
Several times, I expected that one of them was going to say, "hi. I'll be right with you." or something of that nature, but I think a whole three minutes passed before one of them spoke to me. The guy who was on the phone, took two more phone calls before he finally looked at me and started off with "Do you have a reservation?"
When the time came to give me my room he said, "We were unable to hold you a ground floor room, so I have you in room 258, is that going to be OK?"  I shook my head, no. He looked surprised and went back to his computer. Then walked back to converse with the guy who was formerly counting money but by now, done counting and completely focused on Shirley. After that short conference, he came back to me with, "We honor availability." I thought to myself, "Honor" is not the word I'd use, but instead said, "Well, then let's just do it for one night." (I had reserved two).

In the morning, I'll check and see if I can get a ground floor for tomorrow night, and if I can't I'll head out of town and find a place that can.


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