I wait and wait and wait in line. I see the frustrated customers and the Eritrean employees standing their ground when verbally abused by the cranky businessmen.

They have run out of cars. When it's my turn, she asks me ten times if I can drive stick. Nope, still can't.

Fine. Here is your car. A brand new Mustang GT.

I already know, I am not prepared for 100 degrees. I packed all wrong, I had a terrible last few weeks. My head was elsewhere when I packed. I throw my bags in the trunk and double check to make sure it is locked, you know thousands and thousands of dollars worth of gear. But the trunk keeps opening. After hailing an attendant, I learn it's because the key fob is in my pocket and it's a remote keyless system. It will lock when I walk away.

Ok. Got that covered.

I then sit in the car pressing all the buttons on the key fob. I can't for the life of me start the car and it's 100 degrees or more in the car. It's not until some Arabian dude comes to get the car next to me and sees me angrily pushing buttons. I can't even figure out how to roll down the window, when I do, he reaches in and pushes the large silver "start engine" button in the place where cigarette lighters used to be. And it starts. My first travel angel.

I must be getting soft, if the most culturally enlightening part of my life these days is driving a mustang.

I get spit out into Salt Lake City and am completely uncomfortable in this bat mobile. It makes roaring noises. I end up slow as a turtle in the right lane, cars passing me with a quickness.

When I get into the country, I get comfortable. There is nothing for miles, just desert, reds and tans as far as the eye can see. Just me on the open road. I let my foot get heavy and press the gas, just to see what she can do. She goes from 50 to 100 in no time. I feel this odd since of freedom and empowerment.

When I drive into Moab, heads turn. Men drool, not at me but the car. At first, the attention terrifies me and then I start to love it. I start to understand men and sports cars. I start to enjoy every guy telling me I have an awesome ride. I just wish I wasn't dressed like Lisa Loeb.

I get to the mountains and see Dani. Dani. What can I say about Dani? She restores my faith in humanity. What an incredible human being. She was my manager in Alaska. Though, we've seen each other once since that time, nothing will bond two humans like working your ass off for super high end clientele, 15 hours a day, 7 days a week. She still made time to teach me to die fabric with mushrooms. She empowered me to make floral arrangements with native Alaskan plants, though she was a trained florist. She gave me autonomy, love and support. She came to me when she was overwhelmed and let me contribute to her. I remember the tears we both shed, together, at the end of high season, rubbed raw and vulnerable. Letting down our walls, gave us a friendship that will last a life time. And for me, a loyalty that will have me take a long journey into the desert to shoot her wedding.

The wedding was incredible. Dani's community filled with some of the nicest people I've met in a long time.

I had a night in Moab, where I had dinner with a stranger. He has since sent me an e-mail on how kismet it was. I love this about travel, I love meeting people and hearing their life stories. I like being anonymous and free to learn from whomever crosses my path.

The 5 hour drive back to Salt Lake City, found me comfortable in the mustang. I had come to love it. I rode into the golden light, music blasting, feeling grounded with this new element, feeling strong again. Feeling inspired again, to create, to write, to dream, to photograph. To truly get, once again, that the road is life...