According to Stiff, cremains make a very poor fertilizer.
Cremains do, but not whole human bodies. Those putrify very well. That’s why I’d rather be buried whole than cremated, although I guess I can see why it’s illegal most places.
And I just noticed that Ice Wolf lives in NZ, making my advice about the state ID moot. But maybe there is something like that in other countries, nondrivers need ID too.
Did you know…that Donner Pass is a STATE PARK?
And it has a picnic area?
With outdoor barbecuing permitted?
Did you know that BBQ Sauce comes in Plastic Barrel-sized lots?
Let’s give some Tourists from LA, preferable from the Entertainment Industry, A SUPRISE!!
How much atmospheric carbon is bound up in human corpses? maybe cremation isn’t the way to go-it probably contributes to Global Warming? I would imagine that Egyptian-style embalming would be best foir the environment-your body carbon never gets released into the atmosphere!
Presumably Holly is waiting for grandma’s death; otherwise it’s going to be a big, big surprise. 
As for myself, ideally, I would like my body to burn up on orbital re-entry.
So did I!
If possible, I’d donate my organs, then probably cremation. Booring!
Like someone else said, I want to be stuffed. Specifically, I’d like be stuffed in a sitting position wearing some comfortable yet nice clothing. The expression on my face would be one of genial inquisitiveness, with one eyebrow raised, as if someone in the room had just scored a telling point in an engrossing intellectual debate. Maybe I could have reading glasses held in my hand, although I don’t wear glasses.
Anyway, future generations could park me in the study with a book on my lap, or at the dinner table, or whatever. They could put me in the atrium to frighten away burglars and Jehovah’s Witnesses. In my waning years as a mummy they can relegate me to the attic, where great-great-grandchildren can scare the crap out of their friends in the dark. Pulling down my corpse at Halloween would become a family tradition akin to fetching the ornaments at Christmas time.
Mummification for teh win.
But assuming I can’t devise the system of interlocking perpetual trusts to inflict myself on my descendants, I’ll be stuck in the mausoleum like everyone else. That place sucks. 
Ditto. Mountains are nice, but optional. At that point, I won’t really care where my ashes wind up.
They can reanimate the brain and transplant it into the healthy young body of a supermodel where I can then live the sweet life and see how the other half lives. The rest can be cremated.