They are in Baker

Two hours down the road.
So much for driving all night.

Not that I would have, either.

Judy says that already, Mike has turned into a saint, as have I.
He was a better driver and I was a better cook. And we never would have stuck her in the back to ride in a cave all by herself.

UPDATE from the Eastern trek:
Gene evidently has the rare talent for finding every pothole in the road.
Judy could not possibly have ever been a nurse, since I took better care of her working full time than she is taking care of her so far. (Of course, Mom is pretty demanding and over wrought.) What she means is that I would turn her over, prop her up with pillows and the wait for an hour, making minute little changes until she was comfortable or asleep.

UPDATE from the wagon trail:
Judy is hoping that they make Provo by nightfall. Provo is only twelve hours from here by the clock we use. Mom is not happy that she can't see out the windows to see what is going on (my guess is because they are moving too slowly.)
Not a complaint, just an observation.
No wonder it takes Judy so long to get anywhere.
Soldier on.

UPDATE from the wagon trail: Judy's boys turn out to greet Mom
at Judy's new house. (I'm sure it's not all that bad. I'm just worried because I DON'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE.