It was when the flu fully took hold at Spiral Jetty that I noticed our road trip had taken a turn. It had started innocently enough, with a rough plan to hit as many land artworks and points of interest as possible in the two week span the three of us had allotted ourselves. Two weeks looks a certain way from a distance. It looks entirely different from the vantage of the Salt Lake Basin, with the Great Salt Lake herself behind Robert Smithson’s giant basalt earthwork extending endlessly into blank white as you crouch on the salty ground to vomit. . .