It is a cold night, like all the others as of late. The moon is low in the sky. After all this time I still haven’t gotten used to being here. Utah, the Beehive state. The place where my next lead is, supposedly. A man claiming to know all about Werewolves contacted me and said to meet him in a town called Saint George. Quite a difference compared to Missouri. 120 degree summers and Autumn time is much less populated with weird insects.

I am staying in a campsite west of a town called ‘Hurricane’. The locals pronounce it “ Herr-ick-kin”. Quite friendly people, thought maybe a little too religiously involved. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Days Saints’ is apparently the dominating religious institution here. ‘Mormons’ as they are commonly called, started their church in the state of Illinois, I believe, and then after some in-fighting moved to Northern Utah, and founded the city of Salt Lake. Mormons really like their histories I have gathered.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The man I am supposed to meet wants to meet me tomorrow, at Bishop's Diner. So, unless anything else interesting happens, I suppose I’ll leave this here for now.