I Fought with the Rocks and the Rocks Won!

Ever have those places you go just to chill and think? I do. Mine is a place called Saltair. It's a once grand relic from my grandmother's days during World War II just off the Great Salt Lake. Lately, it's in a decline and mostly hosts concerts (usually punk bands or harder rock from what I understand) and raves. During the days, families go out there and hike the distance to finally reach the water. For those of you who may not know the Great Salt Lake is called America's Dead Sea. It's so salty, you just bob in the water (provided you actually get to water deep enough to bob in...the Great Salt Lake is notoriously shallow).




This is a very pretty picture of the Great Salt Lake. I believe it is a picture from Saltair. This is a look similar to what I saw yesterday.








This is a view of the Great Saltair in finer days. I did not take these pictures because I didn't realize I was going to Saltair when I started driving, I just wanted to get out in the sun and enjoy the mild (80-ish degree) weather we were enjoying for the holiday weekend.

The lake levels are wayyyyyy down because of the drought we've been in and despite epic rain and snowfall, the levels are still down. I was smart and decided to travel with flip-flops, so walking in sand in flip-flops are not advisable in Great Salt Lake sand. They tend to have little gross puddles of sand flies and icky stinky goo. Since I didn't want to trek through that to actually reach the water, I just decided to climb some boulders that used to be in the lake, but now border the Saltair land.

It was beautiful. The wind was blowing, so it was actually a little brisk. No bugs of any sort. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. It was a perfect relaxation, enjoying the bounties of nature, thinking spot. I sat on my rock for a long time and enjoyed. It was heaven!

Then I decided to get off and drive home (Saltair is about a 30-ish minute drive from my home). I scooted to the edge and though I found a better way to get off than I did to get on. Wrong-o. I fell off the rocks. About 6 feet. I fought with the rocks and the rocks won. Big time. People saw, of course, which was embarrassing, but I was laughing too hard at myself. I told them I was okay and eventually (due to the laughing) got myself up and out.

I'm slightly damaged. I have scrapes on my right forearm and scrapes, swelling and (according to my mother) bruising on the left side of my face. Don't ask me how I accomplished that. I'm talented...that's all I know. I'm stiff and sore and think I might have strained some ribs on my back. Is that possible? My parents are just laughing when they watch me walk around the house. I have an evil plan to get dressed (sort of) and try to go walk and see if that loosens up my muscles a bit. It seemed to work yesterday when my muscles started to tighten up.

So, my commune with nature went well, my return to the modern world...not so well. Oh, well. Life will go on, I guess! And no, I will not include pictures of the abused face.