Burning our bare hands

Experiencing snowfall for the first time in Utah.

It was mid-March and we had just driven into Hurricane, Utah. Winter was almost over, yet the temperature remained at thirty-nine degrees Fahrenheit—chilly, but not freezing. As we pulled into the Motel 6 parking lot and stepped out of the car, Sev and I started to shiver from the late afternoon air. Right away, Sev headed to the front office to check us in to the room, which was just off the main highway that would eventually lead us to Zion and Bryce, the first national parks I would visit on my first trip to the United States.