Sunday morning came and went. The weather was nice. Then, around the time we were to head out, it started snowing. And then it started to snow harder. And harder. While this was disappointing because it didn’t sound fun to walk around in such bad weather, we didn’t have the option of changing our plans. The tickets were date-specific, and as the Dragon Lights website reports in their FAQ section, the festival would be held come “rain, snow or shine.” Plus, even when the snow started coming down fairly fast and furious, Weather.com showed nothing in the hourly forecast about snow. Probably, it would all let up quite soon.
Melanie, the boys, and I piled into our car and headed to the freeway. As we cruised down (up? We were going north, after all) the Interstate, I felt increasingly uncomfortable with our commute. I suggested we go to a much closer Chinese restaurant, one I had been to a couple of times but that Melanie and the boys had not. Nobody had any objections, so I exited the freeway and quickly found the alternate restaurant. It was closed for the Sabbath. Damn!
I shrugged and figured I’d try again to head to Bountiful, the location of our first-choice Chinese restaurant. Meanwhile, Melanie started searching for nearby Chinese restaurants on her phone. My rekindled determination to get to Bountiful quickly fizzled when, once again, I found it very difficult to see through the snow while driving on the freeway. Melanie suggested that we eat at Sampan, a nearby Chinese restaurant Melanie and I were quite fond of back before we got married. I had no interest in driving all the way to Bountiful via city streets, so I agreed. Within a few minutes, we were safe, cozy, and relaxed, sitting at a table and looking over our menus.
Our food was great. It’s probably the best Chinese food I’ve had since moving back to Utah. I don’t know why we haven’t revisited Sampan before now. I’ve tried several other Chinese places since moving back, and only a few have seemed adequate, much less quite tasty. Perhaps because I so loved the Chinese restaurant we used to frequent while living in Tallahassee, I had zero hope of finding anything of note in Utah. Adequate was the best I had hoped for. And maybe I just assumed that Sampan would be as mediocre as anything else, after being disillusioned by my first few forays into Chinese cuisine as a recently returned Utah native. But, man, Sampan was yummy. The boys thought so, too, as did Melanie. Hanging out together at a restaurant in-and-of itself was also quite lovely. We really enjoyed our time. And, wouldn’t you know it, the snow let up quite a bit while we dined. It didn’t stop snowing completely, but it had been reduced to small flakes falling in slow motion. Nothing to worry about whatsoever.
With full bellies, we climbed back into our car and headed to the Utah State Fairpark. A minor detour was involved, thanks to a slow-moving freight train—a common occurrence in that neighborhood, as I remember from my childhood. (I grew up relatively close to the fairgrounds. A junior high field trip even involved walking there, which I thought was nuts at the time and perhaps even more nuts now.) But, despite arriving nearly 90 minutes later than I had wanted and planned to, we finally made it.
Then we saw the sign. Dragon Lights had been canceled for the evening, I can only assume due to weather. The bastards.
As I said, the festival runs through the beginning of May, and according to the posted sign, we can use our tickets for any other day. But the only reason we fought through the snow in the first place was because the Dragon Lights website had ensured us that it would not be canceled due to inclement weather. It wasn’t pee pee in my Coke, but it felt like a joke, that’s for sure.
Oh well. We still had a good time.
