Salt Lake City to Idaho
There's KOA and then there's primitive camping. Primitive camping at Sand Hollow Park in Zion, Utah didn't cost us anything and provided us with dry dust and a wet lake. However, in SLC for 40 dollars total we got a shower, a pool and wireless connectivity, plus we were right next door to the Old Bottling House, private club and lounge. Four dollars buys 8 people a membership (which is required to drink at a bar in Utah... membership makes boozing less sinful or something. The watered down beverages served us well for once, when we woke up feeling fresh for our big day in Salt Lake City. We're definitely looking forward to Idaho and Montana, after the weak cocktails in Las Vegas and SLC we could all use a real drink.
Shortly after entering Idaho, just 30 miles shy of our next stop, our van broke down. It sputtered, shuttered, and started to glow. So we rolled in to town, on a tow truck. Not a bad way to make an entrance. If your gonna get stranded in a town, there are worse places than Pocatello (or P-Lo as some folks call it). It may not sound like much, even if it is the third largest city in YouDaHo, but the people were great and we had a blast. First off, the tow truck driver was super accomodating, then the folks down at Davies auto repair discovered, late on Friday, and just before closing for the weekend, that it was just a distributor cap. A half hour later we were saved from making a weekend layover in a town we were only planning on passing through.
Being the positive people we are, we decided to make the best of the situation. Friday night we lived it up. We were all dead-set on getting wasted at some local bars. We ate dinner and had drinks at the Office, where we got the breakdown on all the local hotspots, plus a tip for breakfast the next morning. First we went to Djs, a bikini strip club. It didn’t come highly recomended, but we all agreed the women were hot and the drinks were cheap. Next we went to the Green T, which we heard
could get kinda rowdy, but they had a mechanical bull so we had to give it a shot. A few turns of the bull, and a couple of really awful sugury date-rape shots later, we jumped in a cab and returned to our favorite haunt, the Office. They had been so great we had to return for last call and by that point it was really jumping. They made us feel at home, and at the end of the night they even picked us up some Mexican food. At this point, I have to admit, that everything gets a little hazy, but our good cameraman, Aaron, got enough on film to fill in the blanks.
Saturday morning greets us with empty stomaches and a early morning (11am) wake up call. We threw everything together and prepared to get on our way to Denver. But we heard about a monster truck rally down at the fairgrounds. By the time we were finished with breakfast at Jeri’s Jumbos, photocar had backstage passes to the event, where we got some great shots from behind the scenes of the monster tuck circuit.
All the people in Idaho are really nice, and we left with nothing but good feelings for the place, until, a few miles from the Wyoming border, the local police dept decided they wanted a closer look at photocar. The next thing we know, every unit in town - including one guy who wasn’t even in uniform – are swarming around the van. We’re told to line up outside. They immediately bring out the drug sniffing dogs and start rifling through all our equipment while making idiotic comments (“hey! Thar’s nudity on this van!”) We end up - in handcuffs - freezing on the side of the road for nearly an hour while the cops go through their harass-the-Califony-hippies-routine. We thought we were about to all be ass-raped. Since we don’t smoke weed, they didn’t find anything. They said they thought we may be meth smugglers, but I don’t think drug dealers would drive such a conspicuous ride. It was totally unnecessary, and no amount of words can express my distaste for bad cops. A great weekend, sandwiched between some trouble, is always bitter sweet. We had a good time in Idaho, but we earned it for sure.
We managed to squeeze in three appointments in SLC: A chocolate factory, a non-denominational religious organization dedicated to the preservation of seven universal principles and egyption-style mummification of people and their pets, and a woman who makes vegan bondage wear.
Shortly after entering Idaho, just 30 miles shy of our next stop, our van broke down. It sputtered, shuttered, and started to glow. So we rolled in to town, on a tow truck. Not a bad way to make an entrance. If your gonna get stranded in a town, there are worse places than Pocatello (or P-Lo as some folks call it). It may not sound like much, even if it is the third largest city in YouDaHo, but the people were great and we had a blast. First off, the tow truck driver was super accomodating, then the folks down at Davies auto repair discovered, late on Friday, and just before closing for the weekend, that it was just a distributor cap. A half hour later we were saved from making a weekend layover in a town we were only planning on passing through.
Being the positive people we are, we decided to make the best of the situation. Friday night we lived it up. We were all dead-set on getting wasted at some local bars. We ate dinner and had drinks at the Office, where we got the breakdown on all the local hotspots, plus a tip for breakfast the next morning. First we went to Djs, a bikini strip club. It didn’t come highly recomended, but we all agreed the women were hot and the drinks were cheap. Next we went to the Green T, which we heard
could get kinda rowdy, but they had a mechanical bull so we had to give it a shot. A few turns of the bull, and a couple of really awful sugury date-rape shots later, we jumped in a cab and returned to our favorite haunt, the Office. They had been so great we had to return for last call and by that point it was really jumping. They made us feel at home, and at the end of the night they even picked us up some Mexican food. At this point, I have to admit, that everything gets a little hazy, but our good cameraman, Aaron, got enough on film to fill in the blanks. 
Saturday morning greets us with empty stomaches and a early morning (11am) wake up call. We threw everything together and prepared to get on our way to Denver. But we heard about a monster truck rally down at the fairgrounds. By the time we were finished with breakfast at Jeri’s Jumbos, photocar had backstage passes to the event, where we got some great shots from behind the scenes of the monster tuck circuit. All the people in Idaho are really nice, and we left with nothing but good feelings for the place, until, a few miles from the Wyoming border, the local police dept decided they wanted a closer look at photocar. The next thing we know, every unit in town - including one guy who wasn’t even in uniform – are swarming around the van. We’re told to line up outside. They immediately bring out the drug sniffing dogs and start rifling through all our equipment while making idiotic comments (“hey! Thar’s nudity on this van!”) We end up - in handcuffs - freezing on the side of the road for nearly an hour while the cops go through their harass-the-Califony-hippies-routine. We thought we were about to all be ass-raped. Since we don’t smoke weed, they didn’t find anything. They said they thought we may be meth smugglers, but I don’t think drug dealers would drive such a conspicuous ride. It was totally unnecessary, and no amount of words can express my distaste for bad cops. A great weekend, sandwiched between some trouble, is always bitter sweet. We had a good time in Idaho, but we earned it for sure.
posted by Photocar at 12:25 PM
6 Comments:
Idaho loves you back. The Office misses the excitment and change that you brought into the bar. You are always welcome back.
P.S. Frankly, you are lucky that you only hit one town with bad cops. Meth smugglers? People make and use meth too much here to be smuggling it in or out.
Pocatello! That's where that crazy weatherman is from, who says that the Japanese Mafia used a Russian-made electromagnetic generator to cause Hurricane Katrina, in order to avenge the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.
That guy's far out, man. Check out his website sometime:
http://weatherwars.info/katrina.htm
are y'all a few days behind schedule? you wouldn't happen to be in austin today would yah?
my friend julie just spotted a van covered in photos with california plates parked across the street from her, in austin.
small world.
why don't y'all drive back north of the border? huh? huh? why don't yah?
PS - thanks for the postcard! We love Outer Space Jesus.
And did you know we have our very own Outer Space Jesus, right here in Oakland, at our very own Mormon Temple?
Ours is slightly smaller, and doesn't speak Spanish.
I applaud the cops for not taking shit from a group of loudmouth out of town artists.
Might teach you to have a nice hot cup of shut the fuck up next time you roll into someone else's backyard.
One of my friends went on a roadtrop to Southern Utah. He was stopped by a police officer, and he and his passenger were ordered to kneel with their arms behind their heads next to their car. The office started frisking them for weapons and asking bizarre questions. It was when he started feeling them up that they got suspicious. Yes, he was a pervert posing as a cop.
It was lovely to meet you all. Thanks for coming through Utah.
-The Woman Who Makes Vegan Bondage Gear
Post a Comment
<< Home