Moab was a mob scene.   Overrun with rental RVs and foreign dialects who appear to struggle with our frustrating systems even more than I do, like the annoying recorded voice at the self-checkout line announcing “Unexpected item in the bagging area.”  Everywhere I went, there were crowds of tourists attempting to cross off two out of five of Utah’s “Big Five National Parks” in one town.   I had to wait in line for everything from grocery shopping to pedestrian stopping.  Yet I couldn’t leave.  I was a held captive by a rig full of exploding gear. Continue reading →