For nearly as long as we have been friends, Melissa and I have wanted to go to the Spiral Jetty. Our scheme has been thwarted numerous times—by holiday traffic, inclement weather, flaky trip-goers, scholastic obligations, you-name-it.

For those not familiar, the Spiral Jetty is an art installation by Robert Smithson, made from natural materials on the Great Salt Lake in the 1970s. It is located in the middle of nowhere, but conveniently near the Golden Spike National Historic Site, which commemorates the site of the joining of the transcontinental railroad. I don't remember when exactly I learned about the Spiral Jetty (I have an inkling it was from my mother), but for as long as I've known about it, I've wanted to go see it.

We left Salt Lake early and stopped first at the Golden Spike NHS. They win for best sign (although Yosemite's is pretty great too) and they also have replicas of the original steam engines that breached the final gap during construction of the Transcontinental Railroad! The engines were created by a train engineer in Schenectady, NY (cool because I have been there a million times), then shipped by boat around the tip of South America to San Francisco, where they were refurbished after corrosion and other damage from the sea voyage and fitted with the steam mechanisms.

We also got to witness the historic reenactment of the historic day in May 1869. These tend to be somewhere on the spectrum somewhere between cheesy and cool and this one was no exception. I'm fairly certain the last reenactment I went to was early on a childhood Christmas morning--my dad dragged us to the snowy site of where Washington crossed the Delaware River; it was snowy and stormy so the reenactment crossing didn't actually happen (ha!) and this is now a notorious and favorite family story. Something about historical reenactments feels very American and I love connecting with my patriotic heritage (obviously).

(The photo above is an ode to one of our favorite photos from one of our favorite trips.)

wind-blown hair

We channeled our inner Lewis and Clark and did some further exploring—in the distance we could see shimmering pink water so we set off through the salt in search of it.

THIS IS REAL LIFE. The Great Salt Lake is pink and it is beautiful and one of the coolest things I have ever seen!! The northern part of the lake has a higher salinity due to a lack of incoming freshwater. There is a type of bacteria that thrives in the higher salinity and makes the water look pink!

And as no roadtrip (1.5 hours counts as a roadtrip, right?) is complete without rocking out to Selena Gomez, there was some of that, too (our adoration of her began ironically and is now partially real/mostly still ironic).

Forever ago, M bequeathed me her Utah guidebook when she moved to Washington, DC. It has served me well in the time she lived out of state, but I'm glad that she has come back so that we can have our Utah adventures together. Spring break from med school called for a get-out-of-town adventure, and we decided on Moab so that we could revisit Arches, and see Canyonlands (a first time for us both) and Dead Horse Point State Park (also a first).

These photos are all mixed together from the three parks (oops), but you can see that the red rock and vibrant colors were stunning in all. In Dead Horse SP we hiked the rim trail and had some great viewpoints of the Colorado River (above) and wandered a little where the placement of cairns was inconclusive as to the next piece of trail. I love the texture of slickrock and the feel of it beneath your shoes—it seems like it would indeed be slick (as I've been warned it quickly becomes during rainstorms and flash flooding) but it has a pleasant, dry grip.

M and I both love Wallace Stegner, and when we went to Moab, I had just read a collection of some of his non-fiction writing about the American West, "The Sound of Mountain Water." Stegner's knowledge and experiences of the West are incredible, and he wove relevant history into accounts of his own expeditions and trips. I highly recommend it, particularly if you love being in the mountains of Utah and Arizona. M and I kept talking about what it would have been like to discover these places—finding stunning vistas, walking under incredible arches, naming the rock formations.

We spent our time in Canyonlands in the Island in the Sky district. I have heard amazing things about the more remote areas of the park, but we would need to be equipped with off-road vehicles or 4-wheel drive to make exploring the Needles and other areas viable.

As it was, we were there in the off-season and in the areas of Islands far from the park entrance and visitor center, the campgrounds and trailheads did not have water spigots running at the time. By the end of the day, we were both feeling a little dehydrated. On my park trips since then, I have made a point of packing several gallons of water into the trunk in case of no refill stations and it has proved useful every time. In Glacier, we never had issues refilling water, but especially in these desert parks it can be dangerous!

Nearly all of the Utah National Park trips I have made have been in the off-season. There are a lot of perks to this: perfect weather, ease of access to parks/parking/campsites/trails, solitude while hiking. One of my favorites is leap-frogging other park visitors; since there are so few of you, you inevitably run into one another again as you make your way through the park. We chatted several times with a cute family of intrepid parents with their young daughters and admired their undertaking a family trip like this.

Mandatory trip uniforms (or were they?) and mandatory listening: Selena Gomez (because dance parties in the car are a necessity), "From this Valley" - The Civil Wars, Walter Mitty soundtrack.

Arches landmarks: Landscape Arch (the world's longest open span!), petroglyphs, Elephant Rocks (aptly named), and Delicate Arch. We hiked to Delicate Arch first thing in the morning to avoid crowds and it was the perfect time of day to hike (I love those long shadows).

We were not as diligent as we should have been with our sunscreen application on day one—both of us had slightly sunburned faces and sunburned EYES. This has happened to me before, but is just as alarming every time, hence our dismay captured above.

M researched our eatery options and had a solid list. It turns out the one that sounded best after a full day of hiking was RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from where we were staying. Fate, I tell you.

Canyonlands at sunset—this photo doesn't begin to do those colors justice.

It's true what they say—fake sisters make the best travel buddies.

Don't these look like photos from an alien planet? Nope, they're Earth—right there in southern Utah. M and I took a roadtrip to Moab a couple of weeks ago and had lots of adventures and lots of laughs. These two photos are from Canyonlands National Park, which now I have been reading a lot about in "The Sound of Mountain Water" by Wallace Stegner. I have always counted myself an east coast girl, but more and more the west is winning me over. Divided loyalties seem to be my lot in life (italiano vs. français, east vs. west, Paris vs. camping, etc. etc. you get the picture).

 . . . . 

Tonight as I stepped out of my car to go inside, I found a smattering of stars in the sky above me. The Big Dipper, Orion's Belt, and many more that I wish I could name. I am filled with so much awe and wonder at our world, and I am filled with a happiness that is deep and abiding, that doesn't change when so many other things do.

"Lionel Poilane's dad was a French baker, and he inherited the family bakery when he was a young man. Rather than sitting still and tending to the fires, though, Lionel become obsessed with remarkable.

I had not known about the history of Poilâne, then yesterday I read the above passage in a book lent to me and was blown away (they sell over $10 million in bread each year!).

M and I also waited in line in this bakery on the Rue Cherche de Midi and we then ate the best tartes aux pommes (apple tarts // 2nd photo) of our lives. The above photos—I die! It was the perfect moment. I loved the classic French illustrations on their cloth bread bags, made even better when I turned around and saw the dog waiting outside the door to the bakery. Pas pour les chiens! 

Auguste Rodin – La Porte de l'Enfer

Seeing these doors again was one of my favorite museum moments; the major paper I wrote during my final semester of school for my Dante's Divine Comedy Italian class was focused on this sculptural work by Rodin and his interpretation of the Inferno. The literary work is laced with symbols and metaphors, and Rodin translated many in a visual way in this work and the monumental scale underlines his message. It's incredible.

lovely details at Sainte-Chapelle

Louvre landmarks

We heart museums and air-conditioning vents & abandoned painting wings in the Louvre. #pariswhenitsizzles

Et voilà! - one million photos from Paris. I will just frame it like this: the number of photos in this post is a reflection of the title of this post, a phrase used by the darling girl who met Melissa and I at the top of the 6th floor walk-up (5th floor by European standards; the ground level is 0 and numbers go from there. I think it makes so much more sense that way) to give us the key and show us the apartment—she told us to get some rest so we'd be ready for our "l'affront de Paris" (in other words, our Parisian offensive).

M and I stayed in this lovely apartment (found through airbnb—in the past, I'd found apartments by Googling around; I highly recommend this website as an easier alternative). I've stayed in apartments in the Cinque Terre, Venice, NYC, and Balboa Island and it continues to be one of my favorite ways to take trips. I love the interactions I've had with the people who rent out or care for the apartments and the space really feels like your own while you're there. Melissa and I noted how this apartment set a rather high expectation for where we would want to live if we were ever to live in Paris, with its well-traveled textiles, flattering floor-length mirrors, and the overall atmosphere. It was hot, but the windows kept things cool at night until we closed them upon the nightly thunderstorm at 5am. Every morning we woke up to the rain, blundering around in the dark trying to close the windows and mop up the puddles of water that got in first. But we wouldn't have had it any other way.

This view and that balcony garden—yes. We couldn't get enough.

The first night we had a picnic on the Champ du Mars and ate what turned out to be one of the best pizza I've had since Italy. The crust and the sauce (and cheese, obviously) were perfection. buonissima.

a picnic lunch on the Seine (we were both wearing skirts but we made it work)

This man was brightly clad in an orange Hawaiian-print shirt and matching goggles and we were dying over his tourist-imitating antics in front of Notre Dame. We observed while enjoying our sorbet and our sides hurt from laughing.

sorbet! The poire (pear) was unreal.

Place des Vosges - this square is beautiful and it was one of my favorite stops after having studied it in architectural history classes.

ohhhhhhhh Champs-Élysées... (my favorite song)

...and a contender for my favorite photo from the trip - an impromptu/unfiltered selfie atop the Arc de Triomphe. Neither Melissa or I had been to the top on our previous trips, and this was another of my favorite moments. We highly recommend ascending at dusk for pretty daytime and nighttime views in quick succession.

This city is beautiful. I'm still in awe.

Paris, we love you.

currently listening: Feathers - Jack & White, The Journey - Fm radio