I Was A Baker For Eight Days (#757)

A workamper job as a Baker took me to southern Utah and the Thunderbird restaurant which has been making homemade pies since the 1930s.  It is next door to Zion National Park.  I was looking forward to many explorations and adventures.

Then along came the shutdowns due to “that which shall not be named.”

Just the latest in a long string of mysterious events that have taken me crisscrossing the country in what might seem a maniacal journey.

It all started last October on a trip to visit family in Ohio.  I stayed so much longer than I intended.  But in hindsight, it all happened according to some grand universal plan; a plan I was not privy to.

When I left Ohio on February 9th, I was headed for North Carolina to train as a technician for a natural gas company.  It was an outdoor job with lots of walking; much to my liking.

Before setting out I had extensive repairs done on my RV by a reputable garage.  I made it as far as Ripley, West Virginia.  The “repairs” left me stranded for a week due to a mechanic’s negligence.

During my week of motel living and having massive repairs on my little home on wheels, I learned that the RV park in NC closest to my training was a 37 mile commute, one way.  No way…….

It was then that I decided to cross the country to Utah.  I had not been there since starting my RV living and traveling in 2007.

I started my baking career on March 9th. My last day was March 18th when the governor of Utah ordered all restaurants to close for 2 weeks.  Well, I saw the “writing on the wall,” sent out a bunch of resumes, thought about sheltering in place, left Utah on March 22nd.

Before leaving, I went up into Zion, stood among the giants, saw Checkerboard Mesa, hiked up along the Virgin River on the Riverside Trail, and whispered farewell to the spirits that abide there.

I was a Baker……for 8 days.

Mount Carmel, Utah restaurant where I was a Baker

 

 

 

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