We completely did not expect to get to Utah by the end of the day, but sometimes, when you’re as awesome as we are, accidents happen. Our pal Trudy (who has declared us Team QAK) didn’t know that QAK also stands for “Quintessentially Awesome Kickass”. This works particularly well because of the extra bonus pun of “Quinn” at the beginning of that. TEAM QAK!

This post, FYI, is a little out of sequence, as are several of the posts below. We entered Utah two nights ago. That would be April 30th, I think. In the morning we woke up in Twin Falls Idaho, and we had 200 or so miles to go to get to Ogden, where we’re posting all these updates from. It’s a rest day, it’s raining, and we have high speed internet! So welcome the deluge of updates.

From Twin Falls, we randomly picked the small town of Malta to camp in that night. It appeared to be halfway to Ogden. By the time we got there, we still felt strong, and figured we’d knock a few miles off the next day’s trip. It was 40 miles to the first town in Utah, and 20 miles to what the locals deemed “the ghost town of Strevell,” near the border. “Ooh! Ghost Town!” I thought. I figured we could set up our tent behind an abandoned barn or something. Turns out, Ghost Towns aren’t really like that. They’re actually kinda creepy. We weren’t even sure we were looking at Strevell until we passed it. This was the kind of place that shouldn’t show up on maps anymore. There was a … structure … of some sort that was maybe the size of three phone booths, an abandoned lot of collapsed auto parts, and another lot with a broken satellite dish, mini-trailer, and half a fence. If someone actually lived there and had enough mail delivered to him to keep the town of Strevell official, then hats off to the US Postal Service.

We decided sleeping in Strevell wasn’t a good idea. But we didn’t decide this until we realized we were in Utah (which was when we realized the dump we had passed was Strevell).

This sign sucks. I mean, look at Idaho's sign! What is this crap, stock photos?!

This sign sucks. I mean, look at Idaho's sign! What is this crap, stock photos?!

25 miles later, we showed up in Snowville after 120 miles of riding. The first 10 miles were mostly downhill with a tailwind, which made us love Utah. Then a brutal crosswind kicked up, ironically, after Quinn and I were talking about our endurance thresholds.

In Snowville, we had no idea where we were going to sleep until we saw the first thing we saw in town:

Score!

Score!

After 120 miles, not having to worry about where to stay was awesome. Plus, this place had a driving range! I hadn’t hit a golf ball for a decade. I kinda suck now.