SLC Punk

Drove forever to get to Salt Lake City. Got there just in time to hit up an REI for cold gear for the Tetons. Found energy bars called Hammer Bars, which made me very happy. It was great seeing Justin (an Eastern Mountain Sports whipping boy) deep inside enemy territory. He helped Joe and I get outfitted for trips and he tried to learn all he could about all outdoor sports. This is Justin's shit, if you don't believe me, check out my man's facebook employment status.

We then proceeded to our hostel, which was a dump. But the guy running the place was the Man. Loved Sherman, or as I fondly refer to him, "The Shermanator". Our reservations were all screwed up and had the crew separated, so The Shermesiter set us up in his room and then directed us toward a place he excitedly referred to as "Restuarant Row"... pretty sure he came up with that himself. My man loved to laugh out loud, loudly. Had a hard time sleeping because it was very hot, I was thirsty, and people kept waking me up. A few dudes were outside the window drinking at 3 am, and they would have fit nicely into the Newark Not-So-Goods crew back home.

Got up early and split. Would have been nice to see more of SLC, but we were ready for the long drive to Grand Teton NP in Wyoming.