The Salt Flats, again.

Once again, I have gone to the Salt Flats. How many times must I stare at that blank white sheet of nothing before I have learned all it's mysteries? How much salt must a man walk on before you can call him a man? These are the lingering questions in my mind. This time I went with Rachel and Amelia, because we had nothing better to do, and it was Sunday. These are perfectly good reasons.






This tire was destroyed enroute to the Spiral Jetty. It was still in the back of my car, so it became a prop.



This is a tribute to legendary photographer Jim Marshall, in my own silly way.









Best to leave your awesome sunglasses on, as Rachel has learned.