We hadn't been on the road 20 minutes when, either a result of being old and broken, or because Tyler was fiddling with it, the heater broke. Definitively. This time it was worse, because the car hadn't been warmed for a few hours like the day before, so we were driving through Iceworld in an icebox. (Tyler's car really is boxy. It's an Izuzu Trooper, one of the few cars I've ever seen with a perfectly flat windshield).
(Mr. Taylor once had the theory that all cars either conform to a single shape...box, bullet, or bean...or are a combination of two of those. My car is a boxy bullet. Tyler's, on the other had, is simply a box.)
Tyler stopped the car right away. He put on an extra sweatshirt and got out some gloves, and gave me his sweatpants to pull on over my jeans. Basically, there isn't that much more to tell of the four-hour drive to Salt Lake City. Both of us were too cold to talk or move, or even notice much of the flat, frozen landscape (or the mountainous frozen landscape, respectively). I will also say here that I think Salt Lake City is ugly and hideous, and appears to be one gigantic strip mall. There.
When we got to Salt Lake (the first town of any size, really), we had to stop and find a mechanic. I had lost feeling in both feet hours before, and Tyler's finger was hurting pretty badly. We found a Midas, and they looked at the car while we used the bathroom of a Barnes and Noble to warm up our respective appendages. Both of us had frostnip, Tyler in his fingertip, and me in my toes and the bottoms of both feet (I had no socks). I also made the stupid, stupid mistake of running very hot water over one foot, which shocked the skin and developed two rusty (almost black) splashes under the dead-white skin, which scared me. Luckily, the feeling came back a little after, and the splotches went away, but both feet are still very sensitive and achy, even 4 days later.
I wasn't aware that Mormons can't have caffeine, which explains why we couldn't find any place in the area to get hot chocolate. All we wanted was a hot beverage or hot food (eventually, some really bad noodles). The mechanics said we needed a new thermostat, which would have to be driven over from a nearby Midas and installed...hour and a half, tops. It took four. The driver first delievered it to the wrong store, then her car broke down. Jeez.
In the meantime, Tyler and I found a Wingers and feasted on popcorn and hot chocolate. I bought socks. Then we went back to the mechanics and tried to ignore the blasting TV while we waited for the part to arrive.
Eventually, the part arrived, was installed, the car was test driven by the mechanics and us, and all was well. The people that fixed it were really nice about it. We got on the road again, knowing full well that our hopes of making the 14 hour drive to Flagstaff that day were shot. We stopped for dinner in Cedar City (I had an egg and toast, Tyler ordered blueberry pancakes and a stack larger than he was), then went through St. George, both realizing we were in a place we shouldn't be. There wasn't a place to get off the freeway and turn around, so we ended up going through a few miles of Arizona before turning back and calling it a night in St. George. Hopped by a number of expensive hotels before finding a single smoker's room at a fairly reasonable price (luckily, it didn't stink too badly). Changed and got ready for bed, before I got up and walked around the motel balconies alone, unhappy and discontented. Eventually walked back in and cried myself to sleep. This probably shouldn't have been a public entry, but...
Aw, cheer up little ducky. Why so glum?
Find your inner rubber ducky.