Making off with (presumably) illegal contraband

Sand Dunes?! I want sand! PINK sand dunes??

*screeching tires, u-turn on major highway*

We're on our way to grand canyon, taking our sweet ass time to do so and stopping at every little waystation and random turnoff we can. Ang saw something on the side of the road and started screaming, "STOP. THE. CAR. TURN AROUND! NOW! I HAVE TO GET OUT! I HAVE TO GO BACK!!"

She lept from the car, and ran to take a picture. She came back and showed me this gem:

"Home of the Ho-Made Pies"

We instantly agreed to get dinner/hoes/pie at this place, and stopped in for lunch. The food was decent, but their selection of souvenirs was lame. I got a magnet. The next place we tried was a zipline. We pulled in, decided it looked sketchy, and high-tailed it in time to see that the zipline just zipped from one side of the highway to the other.

But pink sand! We start driving down this tiny, broken, sandy road with cow crossing signs and cow gates across the road to flatten your tire when you fly over it not knowing it's there. I was sitting there looking out the window going,

"Cactus? cactus? cactus? caaaaaactus? cactus now? do do do cactus time. cactussss? CACTUS! CCCAAACCCTUUUSS TURN THE FUCK AROUND!!!"

We had not yet seen a cactus in the desert, and I was on a mission to find one and capture it and name it George.

CACTUSCACTUSCACTUS - ow! - CACTUS!

His name is George "Popcorn" Paddles. He's somewhere in the backseat now. I don't really know where. After driving and driving and driving on this road we eventually go, "what the fuck? Is this a state park or what? where are the signs and directions and PINK SAND."

As we say this, we see a sign indicating that in 7 miles, there will definitely be a park with pink sand. Really, we swear. 10 miles later, we pull into the entrance, look at the sign saying $6 entrance fee, and yell "oh, eff that," and pull a yewey. Uey? U-ee? WE TURNED AROUND.

On the way out, we ran up a pink sand dune, scooped up sand, and scampered off while Ang yelled "I'm making off with the contraband! I'm making off with the contraband!"

I shoved George "Popcorn" Paddles into a sand bag, pop some holes in it while struggling to get George upright, and threw him in the back of the car. Now I refuse to get anything from the back because there's a cactus in there somewhere.

We started to leave, saw a little dog run into the road, look at us, run off, and then met some, uh, friends:

Got grass? No, seriously, we could use some grass right about now.

And took some sweet pictures of the Utah skyline:

About a hundred pictures were taken as I sang, "Pictures! Picture taking! I am taking the pictures!" A lot of them contain only sky.