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
