Utah, lit by the light of the moon.

I didn't notice when I crossed the Utah border. Zipping through the mountains along Route 50, I didn't notice a sign. It was sometime after passing the big herd of elk near the Humbolt National Forest and when I stopped for gas in Delta, UT.

For the past few days I've been wondering what type of photo I'd take at the UT state border. How would I memorialize the moment -- the very minute I set foot in a new state for the fiftieth time -- that I first dreamed about eight summers ago?

Eight years ago my buddy Dave and I decided to drive out to New Mexico on a whim. Six years ago my buddy Darf and I decided to see the biggest ball of twine and open accounts at the Tightwad Bank, stopping off in as many obscure places as we could. Four years ago the boss sent me up to Alaska. Two summers ago I took a drive through Death Valley, the Mojave Desert, and a ghost town in western Nevada.

That left me with four states I had never been to. Moving from Anchorage to the east coast was the perfect excuse to complete the task.

As for memorializing that grand moment... well, I'll have to think of something. I was probably fifteen or twenty miles into Utah before I realized it. No gigantic WELCOME TO UTAH sign to photograph. No general store to pick up a cheesy souvenir.

But don't worry. I stopped for the night near Salina, UT. The next day I enjoyed the most magnificent drive through scenic Utah -- first on I-70, then on US 191, and picking up Utah Route 128 in Moab.

The Robber's Roost in Green River, UT.

Near Moab, UT.

The drive along Utah Route 128 was amazing, following the Colorado River along the east side of Arches National Park.

Arches National Park, from Route 128.

So now I'm relaxing in Denver. Took a full day off from driving. Tomorrow I'll be headed down through Colorado Springs, and from there? Who knows.

I-70, near Grand Junction, CO.