I keep calling Utah, Iowa in my head, which I feel reflects on my ideas of both states. Or because the only book I have, Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson, which I have read twice now, is set in Iowa. Anyway. We slept at Lake Powel during the Morman Fourth of July, AKA, Founders Day. No one set off fireworks, or even a single bottle rocket out of some drunk guys pants.
Nice fourth of July, Mormans. Not only do you not know how to get festive, but your beer sucks. By request, I bought a Polygamy Porter, and it tasted like smokey water. THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE BEER IN THIS BEER. You just can't have a porter with an ABV of 4.0. As I have told Ariel, the beer tastes too hydrating to drink. I'll be drunk, I mean, in Nevada in a week.
Side note- Lake Powel is a hundred dregree plus during the day, and at least twenty degrees cooler at night. We went night swimming. I just kinda floated on my back and fought a current a bit, kicking my legs every now and then. There aren't as many stars in utah as I thought there'd be. Instead, the moon is a spot light. It's weird. Can anyone explain that?
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