422 Miles
I checked the weather on Sunday morning, and it looked the storm was mostly moving northeast. I really didn't have another day to sit, so I rode over to the Burris' house for breakfast and we said our goodbyes. They went off to church, and I hit the interstate. The weather was cold, but the sun was out, and I enjoyed riding through southern Idaho. When I was a kid, our family traveled I-84 between Mountain Home and Twin Falls often to visit family, and it was cool to see several familiar stretches of road along the way.
I stopped for gas and temporary warmth just east of Rupert, Idaho, and as I walked into the truck stop coffee shop, sat down next to three friendly truckers who were checking the national weather service on a laptop. They asked what the hell I was doing riding a motorcycle in this weather, and when they found out I was headed to a minister's conference, they all let me know where they stood with God. I kid you not: one agnostic, one catholic, and one southern baptist.
We enjoyed some humorous, spiritual conversation, and commiserated road conditions over coffee. Interstate 84 was closed between Rupert and Snowville. It was possible to take alternate roots, but probably just as dangerous. The truckers encouraged me to find a hotel a couple of exits down the highway, and wait it out one more day. I finally gave up and went in search of lodging, but as I headed down the road, the temporary road signs were announcing that I-84 had been reopened! I took off down the road praying that "open" meant dry, and sure enough the road was dry the entire way! There were a few patches of snow on the road, but they looked like they had been dropped by truck undercarriages rather than the sky. The interstate was virtually empty for obvious reasons, and I enjoyed an uneventful trip over the state border and into Utah.
Unfortunately, I had forgotten to reset the fuel valve in Rupert, and I ran out of gas two miles north of Tremonton, Utah. Thankfully, a family of angels (parented by Scott and Beverly, and driving a VW Eurovan) armed with an old steel gasoline can came to my rescue. Before long I had a handful of trail mix, a bottle of water, a couple of gallons of petrol in the tank, and Beverly stuffed a pack of fruit snacks in my pocket before I could protest. In no time I was buzzing back down the road.
I got into West Jordan late, and it actually began to snow on me in the last miles to the Zuniga's house, but I arrived safely by the stubborn grace of God. It was awesome to catch up a little with Carlos and Jill and to get to meet Anna for the first time. She is a very beautiful and happy baby! After talking for awhile, we all surrendered to the thought of the busy tomorrow and went to bed.
