Little Branch in the Big City

It is traditional for our cute little branch to plan a Christmas road trip to Salt Lake City.

Unfortunately, our traditional plans traditionally suffer from the traditional weather patterns of our traditionally homicidal Decembers.

Last year when a big pre-road-trip-storm rolled in, we all reviewed our various insurance plans and (much to our dare-devil former branch president's chagrin) decided the best course of action would be to stay home and, you know, ALIVE. But this year, when yet another 3-day storm rolled in , we decided to brave the snow and sleet and out-of-control-semi-trucks and make the trek anyway.

Why did we do it? Maybe it was all of this year's Sunday school lessons about the pioneers. Maybe it was our deep need to leave the valley one more time before the road-closure season completely cuts us off from the rest of civilization. Or maybe we just have less to live for this year. But for whatever reason we said a prayer, notarized our wills, climbed into vehicles, and started slipping and sliding towards the state line.

I was lucky enough to score a seat in the SUV being driven by Princess SmoothRide McSpeedster. Her stellar driving skills were the reason I only had to shout out "We are all going to die!" about four times (and I only texted it once), and as anyone who has ever driven in any kind of "weather" with me knows, that is a new record.

The snow was falling, visibility was low, and roads were slick, but we all managed to get where we needed to be... eventually.

There were a few bumps along the way, though. Moments after this photo was taken, President Barlow's carload witnessed a nasty semi-vs-SUV-vs-tree accident. They stopped to make sure everyone in the accident was ok, then had to stick around to give a statement.

But eventually the snow stopped, the temperature rose, and we all went back to worrying about more troubling things than being maimed in a terrible car accident (college finals, unfinished Christmas shopping, yet another Sunday school lesson about marriage and family, etc.).
And after taking almost four hours to drive what usually takes us closer to two, we climbed out of the car, knocked the dried manure off our "goin' to town shoes", and set out to explore the big city.

Salt Lake really is a "big city" compared to our little piece of rural paradise, but we managed to hold our own.

And whenever we started to get a bit overwhelmed by people, the traffic, the people, the buildings, the people, and the sheer masses of people, we always managed to find some little reminders of home (homesteading cabins, livestock, etc.) to help us find our center.

We ate ourselves sick at the Rodizio Grill.

And then we swarmed the Church History Museum where I had my photo taken next to the photo of my great, great grandfather Henry Grow before Krystal and I practiced pounding a variety of pulpits.

And then we headed ourselves up and moved ourselves out, right on over to Temple Square.

The couples in the group used the romantic atmosphere to do a little snuggling...
... While we "unattached" folks commandeered the bridal platform for some "Where's the groom?" shots.

A few of us arrived on the square long before the lights were set to turn on, so we found other ways to entertain ourselves. We checked out the view from the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial building and covertly stalked a security guy as he whispered cool code phrases into his secret service style communication device. And for a while we took photos of all of the hundreds of people who, for some unknown reason, had decided to wear berets.

Chasing down random beret-wearing city dwellers kept us busy until the lights came on. Then we walked around the square again so that we could take in all of the Christmas beauty around us before...

...heading back to the freeway where we were treated to yet another stunning display of big city phosphorescence: a traffic jam of break lights. Quite festive, don't you think?

We made it back onto the freeway just in time to drive through yet another storm.

Then we all made it home (in only three hours this time), only to suffer an even more terrible fate...

...having to listen to a Sunday school teacher quote Beyonce in the middle of our 23rd lesson about marriage and family.

But it could have been worse.

We could have slid off the road, suffered minor injuries, and then had to sit through a lesson on the law of chastity wherein I might have quoted Lady Gaga.

So let us all count our blessings... and next year just drive up to Oakley to see the lights at the feed lot.

All in favor?