I am currently in St. George, Utah. Well, Bloomington, actually. This is almost as far southwest in Utah as you can get. Any more and you'd be in Nevada or Arizona.

I am at the home of Jane and Roger - the aunt and uncle (respectively, heh) of my friend Thom Bowers (who is the bass player and vocalist for the amazing art-rock and Pink Floyd tribute band Sons Of Nothing. Nice house, btw.

Yesterday, I picked up Thom at his house in West Jordan at 9:30 a.m. We proceeded south on interstate 15, stopping for fuel and lunch (at Wendy's) in Beaver. We arrived in Rockville (yes, Rockville), Utah around 2:30 and found our way to the site of Flyin' Zion.

Flyin' Zion is a private party held at the ranch of Roger Fuller on Easter weekend. Flyin' Zion has been held annually for the last 27 years. Apparently, a number of the residents of the city of Rockville have been unhappy with this annual gathering perhaps out of fear its growth may lead it to become something like Burning Man. Because of this, Mr. Fuller has decided this year will be the last year Flyin' Zion will be held, simply because he wants to be a good neighbor and does not want to pick and choose which of his friends can and can not attend in the future.

The ranch features a vineyard which Mr. Fuller harvests to produce his own wines. I had a sip of some of this wine and found it to be quite good, if a bit strong.

The ranch is flanked on the north by the Virgin River which participants use as a swimming hole. But, mostly, the whole ranch is surrounded by breathtaking mesas typical of the region (which lies directly south of Zion National Park).

Bizarre, abstract sculptures made of wood, rusted metal, and delapidated electronic appliances are littered (probably shouldn't use that word) in the meadow, by the entrance and near the stage. Some of these sculptures seem to express a ludditesque ambivalence toward technology. Others seem to praise and emphasize sexuality. Others merely look like a compilation of miscelaneous parts.

Approximately 30-40 feet in front of the stage lies a deep firepit which is surrounded on the west side by a semicircle cement wall which has a couple hundred bottles of various color and size embedded in the wall. If you stand on the side opposite the fire, the light from the flames provides a somewhat psychedlic display as it shines through the glass bottles in the wall.

As the day became evening, a gorgeous sunset was the backdrop for the first band of the evening, Blank Tape. Their music was a soulful blues rock and their lead singer could wail unbelieveably well.

Sons Of Nothing played an excellent set of Pink Floyd tunes from about 8:00 to 9:00.

After the Sons played, Thom and I headed to St. George - which took about 45 minutes or so. Being Spring Break, the main section of St. George was packed with teens and college aged kids cruising the streets and fraternizing on the streetsides. I had no idea St. George was such a... hot spot.

A mesa behind some of the campground.

Thom and Doran at sunset.