Road Trippin' Day 4

Some days on the road lack connection.
Connection, or the lack of, comes in many forms: A connection to a place and its history, a connection to a person - your partner for the road, or an INTERNET connection. 
Today, I have to deal with the very somber reality of having no internet connection. 
When did I become so dependent on my digital life?!? WHY? How do I stop this madness??
I go to nature to rejuvenate, to explore, to get lost in its mystery and discover parts of myself often unseen in my everyday life, and yet here I am - sitting on the floor in the corner of a motel room, anxiously attempting to connect to a wifi connection that is as old as the retro neon sign at the reception.
My need to connect, to be ONLINE, is as strong as the need for an alcoholic for his drink, or a pill popper for her Xanax. I am a full blown ADDICT.
"Hi. My name is Tamar, and I am addicted to the internet." 
Side note: Could this count as my first I.A. meeting?? (I.A. as in Internet Anonymous)  

Today, PRIOR to losing my shit over losing my life line which is THE WILD WILD WEB, I made the swift transition from Arizona to Utah. The red became redder, the coffee became better (by far), and time moved forward as I made my first stop in Utah and hiked into narrow slot canyons revealing colors and movements that are simply unreal. Unreal HOW, you ask? Well, tapping on the red rock lightly, sand began to drop. The rock was so light and frail that no wonder it curves with water so perfectly. The red clay rock is malleable and soft, as if it was a sounds stage, a film set, or a ride in Disneyland. It seems almost FAKE. That is how it's unreal. 

We didn't walk too far in the canyons. They go for miles and miles... we opted for a chunk of a 4-5 miles round trip hike and veered back into a bouncy dirt road to head to the next town for the night. 

My little car, a Prius C, normally stands out on the road with its light blue 'sparking sea' color, and yet today it stands out because it's covered with red sand, a sign of where we've been. Perhaps the car was feeling envious of my adventures, so it claimed one for herself. Perhaps. Perhaps my car longed for a connection of her own. Perhaps. Perhaps it sent me a message that it's a city car, and I mustn't change it. And if I really want to drive off into bumpy dirt roads in the middle of nowhere - then I should get a 4x4 already and leave it in peace at a garage with its A/C, hipster coffee shop nearby, and infinite amounts of internet to choke my soul with. Perhaps.

It seems as though when one loses a connection to something, they gain connection to... their car!?? 
Perhaps. 
I wonder what surprises tomorrow shall bring.

To be continued...