Michael currently lives in a hotel in Denver, waiting to find a good deal on an apartment. When I landed there, we packed all his earthly belongings in the car and drove off. It was barely possible to see out the rear view mirror, so we stopped at the Starbucks and rearranged.
The drive from Denver to Jackson is long and mostly dull. There is a lot of scenery to see, but it’s very repetitive. We were hoping that Fort Collins might be a distraction, but we bypassed it and it was of no interest in the area we reached.
We ended up stopping at a Walmart in Rawlins, since I needed dangerously terrorist mouthwash and tooth paste and other necessities. Since we were there, and hungry, we marched over to the nearby McD’s. The brakes, at that juncture, started making the tragic scratching sound of hell that goes with metal-on-metal friction.
We started the car again and the sound was gone, so we felt safe continuing. As we left Interstate 70 in Rock Springs, it started getting darker. We finally ended up sliding into Jackson, WY by the time every single decent restaurant had closed.