As a young boy, fire trucks held quite a fascination for me. I marveled at the big red engines on school trips to the station. As an energetic fledgling news photographer, I slept with a scanner to chase the red lights to middle-of-the-night conflagrations. 

Wandering through the Utah Fire Museum near Grantsville in the desert west of Salt Lake City took me back in time. My imagination ran wild walking through the dozens of old fire trucks chronicling the history of firefighting in Utah. Each bright red vehicle told endless stories of its work protecting our citizenry, with brave firemen hauling hoses and erecting ladders to fight raging fires.

Before I made my way back to the fire trucks, the wall display of over a hundred helmets. The yellow and white, black and blue collection painted a rainbow of storylines from the past as they hung silently on the wall.

Today, we all carry mobile devices that allow us to reach out instantly to 911. Back in the 19th century, it wasn’t quite so easy. A display of fire call boxes dating back to 1883 illustrated how Salt Lake City was mapped with specially numbered alert boxes around the city — a system that remained in place until 1985!

As a radio nut, I loved seeing old Bearcat and Radio Shack scanners and other two-way radio gear.

When modern firefighters pull up to a scene, we take it for granted as they haul out hundreds of feet of fire hose. An exhibit traces the history of fire hoses back to Holland in 1673 and modern advances by American firemen in the early 1800s.

But amidst the vast collection of hoses, ladders and nozzles, the fire apparatus took center stage. There they were, all neatly aligned in rows — about three dozen trucks and engines, all looking like they were ready to spring into action.

I remembered the 1952 Van Pelt and 1953 International pumpers from my youth, right next to a sleek 1952 American LaFrance with the flat nose. Stepping further back in time, I could only imagine the futuristic feel of the 1922 Ford American LaFrance engine back in its day a century ago.

There was even a 1927 REO Speed Wagon from Juab County. The trucks, manufactured from 1915 until 1952, were named for company owner Ransom Eli Olds. For me, it was the namesake of one of my favorite rock bands from the 1960s and ’70s.

From the bucket brigades of the 17th century to hand pumpers of the 1700s to modern-day engines, fighting fires has always been about getting water to the fire. That task was aided by advancement in portable ladders in the 19th century to help get firefighters to locations out of their reach.

Amidst the eye-catching big pumpers and ladder trucks, another small vehicle stood out. The tiny red Volkswagen Bug with a big red gumball light on its roof must have been a treasure for the Tooele Fire Department.

Most of all, the displays brought me back to my time as a news photographer in the 1970s. I would love to be among the first on the scene, shadowing the professional firefighters in Madison, Wisconsin. My godfather, Chief Wilcox, was a longtime leader in the department, and he loved having me come by the station with photographs for his firefighters.

But I think what I most took away from my visit was the gratitude each of us owes to the firefighting community. Yeah, it must be really cool to ride to a fire in one of those sleek red engines. But there’s also the fear of the unknown and the pride of knowing that they’re helping keep us safe.

DETAILS

Getting There: Head west on I-80 towards Wendover, getting off at exit 99 and heading south on S.R. 36 between Tooele and Grantsville. The Utah Fire Museum is in the Deseret Peak Complex, south of the Utah Motorsports Campus.

Hours: Friday and Saturday from 11 a.m.-3 p.m.

Fee: Help the museum by dropping a few bucks into the donation bucket at the entrance.

Displays: There are myriad displays, from helmets to hoses, fire trucks to photos. Do take time to go through some of the informational binders around the museum to learn more about the history of firefighting.

What’s There?: Huge building housing dozens of historic fire trucks and engines plus a wide collection of firefighting apparatus in a large 30,000-square-foot museum.

Kids: This is a perfect outing for kids!

The post Sunday Drive: A museum filled with fire engines is a kid’s dream appeared first on Park Record.

When we first moved to town in 1988, I quickly built memories of the place where I would go on to spend most of my life. I vividly recall my first Labor Day — sorry, Miners Day — and the ragtag parade coming down Main Street. Little pods of people dotting the curbs. Corny floats. One band. But what stood out most was the small town’s friendly and endearing irreverence.

I suddenly felt that this was my hometown!

That’s why we Parkites have been going to the Miners Day parade for 128 years. This is our day to celebrate with friends and to introduce the next generation to our culture! 

It’s a day that signals the break between summer and fall. It means kids are back in school. Days are shorter, and temperatures cooler as we chat about the first frost. And it’s when you should start thinking about where you left your skis last April.

In my native Wisconsin, we loved weekend festivals where families gathered in the beer tent. On our first visit to Swiss Days, we discovered that the concept of a beer tent was foreign here — except for Miners Day!

Like most small-town celebrations, it takes a good nonprofit to put on the show — that’s the Park City Rotary Club, now working in tandem with Park City Municipal. In the mid-00s, Rotary spiced up parade morning, adding Running of the Balls. Today those 15,000 balls turn into $80,000 for local causes.

Park City does heritage well. While we’ve evolved dramatically, we have never lost our roots. We began as a mining town, and we cherish that history. 

On a June Saturday in 1896, a crowd of 450 Western Federation of Miners walked down from the union headquarters at the top of Park City’s Main Street in what is considered the first Miners Union Parade.

The parade included miners, painters, cigar makers and the local athletic association. While we have no cigar makers today, we have plenty of politicians and nonprofits. We have humorist Tom Clyde on a tractor and the Rotary’s Citizens of the Year in convertibles. We’ll have some crazy cars, plus lots of kids and dogs.

As is tradition today, old-time Park City workers marched to City Park, where Mine Manager O.L. Lawrence oversaw the first event — a 100-yard sprint with a field of five. Miner Frank Foster won in 10.25 seconds (not far off the world record) and claimed a pair of running shoes as his prize.

The first modernday Olympics had been contested in Athens just a few months earlier. Contestants in City Park clamored to get into the high jump, shot put and boxing. There was also football and baseball.

As part of my Park City Rotary Club duties, I connected with my good friend and fellow Rotarian, Dr. Robert Winn. For a few decades now, Winnie and I have run the famous Kids Games in City Park, where our future Olympians in a sprint, gunnysack race and the ever-popular wheelbarrow run to finish.

Our little end-of-summer festival continues to be where we all come together as Parkites. We have a beer and listen to music in City Park. We grab a spot for the mucking and drilling demonstration to relive our town’s mining heritage. We share good times with friends while our kids run around the park.

Being the Parkites that we are, yes, we make sure our kids train for days like this. The kids cherish their ribbons, while Mom and Dad get bragging rights. Through it all, I’ve watched the kids of our community grow up before my eyes. 

This year’s Miners’ Day will be bittersweet for me. For the first time since 1988, I won’t be on the Main Street curb or behind the microphone for the Kids Games – handing off to the next generation, Rotarian Kevin Kennedy.

But please do me a favor. Spend an hour or two on Main Street next Monday morning. Bring your family to the Kids Games. And have a beer for me.

Welcome to Miners Day.

The post Sunday Drive: Our town, our heritage appeared first on Park Record.

It was a quiet morning at the lake as my vintage Trek 6700 gripped the trail, passing through a shady grove of hawthorns on a downhill and then carving a tight right-hand turn onto a peninsula stemming into the Jordanelle Reservoir. A few puffy clouds framed a blue sky scene while a family of ducks slowly crossed a quiet backwater bay.

It was a great day for a bike ride.

The Jordanelle Perimeter Trail came online just a few years ago. It traverses a wonderful winding route from the west side of the reservoir around the north to Ross Creek and down the east side to Rock Cliff. It’s part of a growing network of trails along the Jordanelle, including the Skyridge system high above the north side of the reservoir.

This summer has marked my return to mountain biking. Bewildered by the prices of new bikes, I had the bike techs at Storm Cycle put some love into my over 20-year-old ride. Wow, what a difference! Now I actually have brakes, plus gears that shift.

The entire Perimeter Trail looked aggressive for me, so I opted for an eight-mile ride from the western shore to Ross Creek. It was an undulating ride, perfect for my ability level, and a great outing for families.

For me, the adventure was as much about the history as it was about the ride itself. I started up above on Rail Trail Road, which followed some of the pathway of the old Union Pacific Railroad spur and the mine stop at Keetley Station. The original spur was built in 1923 with ore coming out of the Ontario Mine through a tunnel that exited along what is now U.S. 40. In 1941, the line was extended to the Mayflower Mine. It was abandoned in 1972.

The deep red hawthorn berries caught my eye, providing shade as the trail wound out onto Crandall Point. As you ride out onto the two peninsulas, make sure to follow the trail all the way out to the tip — don’t get lulled into the shortcut track.

The peninsula rides give you a unique perspective on the reservoir. The main north-to-south channel of the Jordanelle is the remnant of Ross Creek, a short-running stream that had its headwaters just a few miles north and then joined forces with the Provo River coming out of what is now known as Rock Cliff. Construction began in 1987, and the dam was completed in 1993, flooding the town of Keetley.

I just loved the flow of the trail. Gonzo cyclists will not be challenged, but it’s a perfect family or intermediate ride. Around every corner is yet another unique view of the reservoir or a look back at the ski runs of Deer Valley’s East Village. Trail designers did an excellent job of following the terrain, twisting and turning to follow the topography, and leaving in just enough up and down to make it enjoyable.

Nearing the eastern shore, the trail drops down to water level along a peaceful, quiet bay along what used to be Ross Creek. Then, it’s a quick climb up the shoreline until the trail crosses the old highway.

It’s been over 30 years since the last car drove old Highway 40 down to Keetley, Hailstone and on to Heber. As the trail crossed the slowly disintegrating bed of asphalt with a yellow line down the middle, I paused to reflect on the past as the highway descended into the water. 

DETAILS

Where to go: The Crandall Point Trailhead is an excellent spot to base, with parking and toilets. Get off U.S. 40 at the Mayflower exit. It’s not clearly marked, so map it in advance, located on a trail off Old Keetley Road. There’s a kiosk for state park fees, or use the online app. Better yet, get an annual pass. While there’s no trailhead on S.R. 319 leading to the state park, you can ride along Rail Trail Road, which tracks the original rail spur from Keetley Station to Mayflower.

Trail: While you can easily do this segment out and back, the trail lends itself to point-to-point travel, so think about shuttling.

Kids: Learn some history before you go. Look at the history overlay maps on gaiagps.com to see what it looked like in 1930 and 1980 before the dam.

When to go: This is a great early morning trail.

What to bring: It’s a pretty exposed trail, so bring water and wear sunscreen.

The post Sunday Drive: A morning at the lake appeared first on Park Record.

I was deep into the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest in Box Elder County, cruising along on a bumpy Jeep trail with nothing but evergreens lining the roadway. All of a sudden, two quail crossed the road ahead of me. Rounding the next corner, the trees opened up to a panoramic view of the valley floor to the east, punctuated by a stunning rock outcropping framing the scene.

It would be a long evening, winding up from the tiny village of Mantua, with a 13-mile off-road adventure up to Inspiration Point. I put the pedal to the floorboard, climbing up a steep incline to the next viewpoint.

Utah has its share of driveable high alpine roads. Guardsman Pass, just above Park City, is a great example. The journey up to Francis Peak in Davis County, or the Skyline Drive in central Utah, all offer stunning viewpoints.

But the route up Inspiration Point was never on my radar. 

After breaking out of the trees, valley views were omnipresent. Winding my way up switchback after switchback, I stopped for short hikes out to various rock formations. 

Whether it’s the window of an airliner at 35,000 feet, or perched on a rock high above a valley floor, I’ve always been transfixed by the scenes of roadways and cities, farms and fields down below. Houses dotting the landscape. Fields of crops sculpted out of the rich terrain. Trails twisting and turning from the valley up the mountainsides.

Hands down, this was the most stunning alpine drive I’ve tackled in Utah. Each turn represented yet another breathtaking photo opportunity. 

Winding up a few more switchbacks, the views took a turn. Suddenly, the expansive valley views to the east were replaced by quick peeks out to the west. Reaching to 9,000 feet, the trail hugged the side of the mountain traversing ever closer to the final climb up to Inspiration Point.

There are several components to a great Jeep outing. One is a route with sufficient adventure, though not too much. The drive up to Inspiration Point is rocky, bumpy, and steep. The other important aspect is the breathtaking views. This route overdelivers! Every time I came to a rocky overlook to photograph, I thought to myself, “Maybe this is far enough up, and I should head back down before dark.”

But I forged on towards Inspiration Point.

It was now golden hour, with the sun sinking over the Great Salt Lake. The dense forest fire smoke refracted its colorful beams, still casting brilliant red hues onto the rock faces. 

The final climb wound its way through another dense forest to a panoramic parking lot at the top. Sitting on the single park bench, I gazed out to the rocky know that was Willard Peak. The smoky haze made it difficult to see mountains in the distance. So I grabbed my Peak Finder app to see what I was missing — dozens and dozens of peaks in every direction. On a clear day you can see out to Nevada to the west, Idaho to the north, and Wyoming to the east.

To the west, you can gaze down on Willard Bay in the Great Salt Lake with the setting sun reflecting off the calm waters. The smoke-filled skies were ablaze in orange as the sun crept down to the horizon line somewhere off towards Promontory Point.

Suddenly I awoke from what seemed like a dream, realizing I still had to drive back down.

DETAILS

Getting there: Head north on I-15 to Brigham City, then take U.S. 89/91 about six miles to Mantua. Head up Main Street to Willard Peak Road and start climbing. It’s about 90 minutes from Park City to the trailhead.

Trail: While it may seem decent in the first few miles with the family Subaru, this is an offroad vehicle trail — perfect for a Jeep Wrangler or OHV. While there’s nothing notably technical, you’ll find rocks, ruts, and washouts all the way up the trail, which is very steep at times. It’s about 13 miles to the top. Plan on a 90-minute to two-hour drive up to Inspiration Point. It’s a bumpy route, so dropping the pressure in your tires to around 20 pounds will smooth things out. You can get down in 45 minutes.

What to bring: Water — lots of water — and a snack or a picnic. Load the route into your GPS app before heading up. There is decent cell coverage.

The post Sunday Drive: Sitting on top of the world appeared first on Park Record.

It was a warm, overcast evening on a quiet lake in the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest. Peaceful. Tranquil. Gliding along the surface, I dipped my paddle into the still water as fish popped up to the surface all around me.

Teapot Lake has long been a great little getaway spot for us — perfect for a picnic, paddle, or hike, and just half an hour from Kamas, the gateway to the Uintas. Sitting right on the Mirror Lake Highway, it’s nestled against Lilly Lake, across the highway from Lost Lake. 

Carole put out the picnic spread while I strong armed the kayak off the roof of the car, sliding it down to the lake. Kayak, check. Seat back, check. Paddle, check. Life vest, check. 

A cheese plate and some homemade beef stew made for a wonderful dinner, capped off with our nightly game of backgammon. Now it was time to hit the water while Carole headed out to circumnavigate the lake.

There’s something very peaceful about paddling a kayak on a mountain lake. The water had small ripples massaging the mirror-like surface. A cloud bank tamed the golden-hour light. To the east, Bald Mountain stood proudly with her big, broad shoulders bared to the elements. 

Just two miles to the north, the 11,000-foot peaks of Mt. Watson and Notch Mountain stood out in the sky, forming The Notch between them.

There are over 1,000 lakes in the Uintas, most of them natural formations like the 70-acre Teapot Lake, formed by glacial deposits 50 million years ago. Our ability to enjoy them today goes back to President Theodore Roosevelt and the U.S. Congress from 1906 to 1908 protecting the region as national forests.

It was a seemingly busy night on the lake with two or three other kayaks. Fishing lines casting for trout whirred in the air, resulting in light splashes into the water.

I paddled down to the southwestern shore, where hundreds of pond lilies were bursting out with yellow flowers. Up atop a towering pine tree, an osprey nest is waiting for its occupant. At an elevation of nearly 10,000 feet, it’s one of the highest nesting areas for osprey in the state.

I waved to Carole on the trail by a small inlet projecting towards Lilly Lake, paddling over to some 18-inch treefalls in the water.

Along the shoreline hiking trail, wildflowers were in full bloom. Wandering daisies with their bright yellow heads and purple petals dotted the trail. Pretty little yarrow, their bright white crowns stood out distinctly against the lush mountain greenery, springing up along the pathway. White chickweed, and so many more, outlined the mile-long hiking trail along the lake.

All of a sudden out of nowhere came a 10-year-old boy with the biggest smile of his life, proudly displaying a whopper of a 6-inch rainbow trout. It may not have been trophy size, but its brilliant rainbow colors made it quite a catch for the young angler.

I watched the sun set over the western shoreline. Temperatures started to drop as I paddled towards the shoreline, feeling blessed to have this amazing natural resource in our own backyard.

DETAILS

Getting there: Just head up S.R. 150, the Mirror Lake Highway, about 26 miles from Kamas. Be advised that there is no cell coverage past Kamas.

Dining: This is a picnic spot, so bring your dinner or stop in Kamas at King’s Tacos. The Notch is a great stop on the way home.

When to go: This is a wonderful Sunday Drive, though weekends are busy. We love this spot for a weeknight getaway.

What to do: It’s easy to put in a kayak or canoe, and it’s just a one-mile hike on a flat trail that encircles the lake. Teapot Lake can be a simple destination or combined it with a more comprehensive visit to the lakes of the Mirror Lake Highway. If you are planning to paddle, make sure to take the 2024 mussel-aware certification and have a copy in your car. You’ll also need a Mirror Lake Highway recreation pass, available at a highway kiosk.

The post Sunday Drive: Sunset paddling on Teapot Lake appeared first on Park Record.

We jostled through the crowd at Trocadero, tucked away at the end of a spoke emanating from the Arc d’Triomphe, dodging construction crews removing concrete barricades and gendarmes with heavy machine guns enjoying sandwiches. Somewhere in here there must be … oh, yes, there it is!

Through an opening in a security fence, the grande dame of Paris, the Eiffel Tower, glistened in all her splendor, replete with a bow tie of bright white Olympic rings.

A seemingly American crowd of bystanders counted down 10-9-8 …. At the stroke of the late-night top-of-the-hour, a bedazzling light show of twinkles accentuated her steel girders. It was 24 hours after a rainy opening ceremony that saw thousands of athletes on boats and a theatrical presentation that danced around Paris in a manner only the French could conceive, or maybe understand.

It’s a rather long Sunday Drive this week across the ocean, made easier by the non-stop wings of the Delta to Paris. And when we returned earlier this week, we brought back the ultimate souvenir — the 2034 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games.

Paris is a magical place. Over all my years of travel, it took me a while to truly discover and appreciate her. My first encounter in 1992 was a short overnight between train and plane with nine bags and boxes coming home from the Albertville Games. I was on the verge of pneumonia and on a rainy morning at a taxi stand, I inadvertently left one behind.

This past week, I was part of a mission to return the 2034 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games to Utah. Mission accomplished.

But it was also time to reflect on the Olympic movement, what it has meant to me, and the significance of the Games coming home to Paris after a full century.

While the roots of the Olympics remain firmly planted in Olympia, the modern Games we have come to know had their rebirth in Paris, the home of Pierre de Coubertin, who brought his vision to life here in 1896. The Games returned again in 1924.

Paris is a crazy place. The art. The fashion. The diversity and distinctiveness of neighborhoods. The Parisian way of life. 

In the hours before the opening ceremony, the closed-off streets cast an eerie spell on the atmosphere as scooters whizzed down carless boulevards. Over 300,000 ticketed spectators moved towards the Seine, while hundreds of thousands of revelers hung on the outskirts of the heavily-policed gray zone flanking the river.

With scaffolding encompassing her rooflines, the steeple of Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris rose proudly into the evening sky once again — the pride of every Parisian. In the towers of the Conciergerie prison, Gojira rocked the rainy night air. Lada Gaga opened it all on steps leading to the Seine. And Céline Dion closed the night from the Eiffel Tower.

It was all very confusing — and very French! We loved it from start to finish.

A week ago we gathered in Le Palais des Congrès de Paris with the IOC itself — a little over a hundred men and women who have made the Olympics their life’s work. As a big global organization, a lot is said about the IOC. But at its roots, it cares about sport.

And so do we here in Utah. I look around our own community of Park City and see the positive impact sport has on our town. I saw it in the engagement of Heber City figure skater Kate Pressgrove, and Park City’s Victoria Rosales. Our delegation cheered Sunday as one of our own local athletes, Haley Batten, won silver in mountain biking.

Legacy was a word bantered about 35 years ago. But today, we see how it has created a special culture. As we presented our case to the IOC membership, it wasn’t lost on us that we represent a very positive story for Olympic and Paralympic sport around the globe.

We are, and forever will be, an Olympic village here in Park City. Not only will we welcome the world to our town in 2034, but over the decade ahead of us we will set an example for others.

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The scene is set in the school cafeteria. Napoleon and Pedro are having lunch together when Napolean asks, “Are you going to eat your tots?” Pedro replies, “No,” so Napolean stuffs them into his pants pocket. A short time later in class, bad boy Randy asks Napolean for some of his tots. Napoleon refuses. Randy slams his foot into Napoleon’s pocket, crushing the tots.

Now, two decades since “Napolean Dynamite” made its Sundance debut right here in Park City, the seemingly innocuous film produced for less than a half-million dollars has remained a cultural classic.

The movie was the brainchild of BYU film students, written by Jared and Jerusha Hess, and starring Jon Heder. From the unusual matchup of Napolean and Pedro, the sleaziness of Uncle Rico, to the uncomfortable brother Kip and his mail order “arriving by bus” girlfriend, LaFawnduh, the movie has you on the edge of your seat just anticipating the weirdness of the next scene.

Preston is a quiet town of around 5,000 just over the Idaho state line, situated on the Bear River. The movie was filmed there in 2001. Since then, fans of the cult classic have made the pilgrimage to see the backdrop of their favorite scenes.

In many ways, Preston has that “Leave it to Beaver” feel, its streets a neat little gridwork with mid-century homes and neatly mowed lawns. Driving down 2nd East, we watched the street numbers carefully in search of Pedro’s house. There it was, the cream-colored stucco with a red tiled roof.

Driving by, I could literally feel the pain in my midsection thinking about Napolean riding Pedro’s Sledgehammer bike with the shocks and rear posts onto a makeshift ramp as the wood collapses on the brick supports and Napolean takes one on the top tube.

Ouch.

I’ll admit there was a bit of sadness driving into the tetherball court, reminiscing on the ball smacking Napolean on his horn-rimmed glasses. The court is still there, but alas, no tetherball.

Napolean’s red brick home is out a few miles on an old country road. Imagine, if you can, Napoleon pedaling his old road bike with the dropdown handlebars pulling older brother Kip on his inline skates.

Or Kip and Uncle Rico eating ribeyes on the front step when Rico grabs one, flinging it frisbee-style to hit Napolean on the Sledgehammer with Pedro riding the rear posts. Then there was the scene with Napolean carrying a plate of food out to grandma’s llama, “Tina, you fat lard, come get some DINNER!”

Driving around Preston was a bit like following the Hollywood maps to drive past homes of the stars in Bel Air. You felt like a stalker driving down the street. “Hey, people are going to wonder about us.” But then you see the houses and they are literally exactly the same as when this ragtag group of young actors and visionaries created truly one of the most legendary films of our time.

What we did not find was a museum. But driving out of town into the Cache Valley to the south, we stopped in Richmond, Utah, at J’s Burgers where a mini museum documented that memorable time over two decades ago that Napolean came to town.

There are thousands of life messages lurking in the craziness of “Napolean Dynamite.” Driving around tidy little Preston brought them rushing back.

“Ligers are pretty much my favorite animal.”

“Do the chickens have large talons?”

And always remember: “Vote for Pedro.” Pedro had skills.

DETAILS

Getting There: Plan on two and a half hours, heading up I-15 to U.S. 89, through Logan and on up into Idaho. Add another hour if you care to add in Bear Lake.

Before Going: Watch the movie! You can rent it on most channels including Hulu, YouTube, Google Play and more.

Dining: Definitely make a stop at J’s Burgers in Richmond, just south of Preston. There’s also a J’s in Preston, but the movie scenes were shot in Richmond. It’s a great burger joint and it has a nicely curated collection of memorabilia from the shot there over 20 years ago.

The post Sunday Drive: You going to eat your tots? appeared first on Park Record.

I was just a mile into my bike ride when I felt the urge to stop at 9th Street Coffee and Donuts. The barista talked me into this gorgeous-looking sugar doughnut with a raspberry and vanilla topping. And there was even more raspberry oozing from inside.

It was a delectable way to start an urban bike ride on a sunny morning.

The recent completion of construction on 900 South in Salt Lake City was hallmarked by the opening of the new 9 Line Trail, a protected bike path on the south side of the road that provides access to a series of some of Salt Lake’s most vibrant neighborhoods. The only problem with the trail is that you just want to stop everywhere!

The huge Jordan Park at 900 West is a good base area. Meander your way up to 900 South and pick up the trail. About a mile in, just after passing under I-15, you’ll wander into Central Ninth. This is my favorite section. You have everything from Templin Family Brewing to the Vertical Diner (vegan) to Golden Gyros. My fave — the focaccia sandwiches at Central 9th Marketplace. But today I opted for the donut.

Fearing I would just eat my way there and never make it to 9th and 9th, I climbed back onto the saddle. Pedaling through the Maven District just past State Street, I rode past boutiques, cafes and the Utah Knife Shop.

But I just had to pull over at Tinker’s Cat Cafe. It’s the first cat cafe in Salt Lake City, you know. Yes, this is really a thing. Bring your own cat or they have cats for you to snuggle and maybe bring home. Maybe this is a road trip for Tiger Lily and me?

Ahead I spied Pig & A Jelly Jar, a popular brunch spot. Being an Italian food connoisseur, I couldn’t help but notice Veneto and Matteo nearly across the street from each other, battling it out to see who could serve Salt Lake City’s most exotic plate of pasta. This is not Olive Garden.

As the temperatures started to rise by mid-morning, I pedaled faster to get into the shade of the huge elm trees along the northern edge of Liberty Park.

Cruising along 900 South, one may wonder about the street signs that proclaim it Harvey Milk Boulevard. Given the heavy influence of the LGBTQ community in the area, in 2016 Salt Lake City opted to rename the street in honor of the San Francisco mayor and gay rights activist who was assassinated in 1978.

As you pedal along, it soon becomes apparent that these are true local neighborhoods. There are simply no national chains. From galleries to cafes to restaurants to utilitarian shops, this is a truly authentic community.

Crossing busy Seventh East, I headed for 9th and 9th. I found solace in the fact that I knew I did not have to climb that towering hill ahead. It was a bit early to stop at the Liberty Tap House, so I forged on. Passing the historic Tower Theater, I could see my quest in site.

Love it or hate it, “Out of the Blue,” commonly known as The Whale, has become a wild discussion topic among Salt Lakers. When the artwork was installed in April 2022, it started snowing. The next winter was the biggest on record, so skiers absolutely loved it.

I do, too. When visiting the part of Salt Lake, I always try to spin a lap around the roundabout. 

After an orange juice with air conditioning at Publik, I climbed back on the saddle for the return ride. 

Alas, it was time to head back. Remember, it always looks different going the other way.

DETAILS

Getting There: Make your base in Jordan Park, west of I-15 with parking and picnic tables.

The Trail: The new 9 Line Trail is a paved trail on the south side of 900 South, separated by a curb most of the way. Share it with pedestrians. It’s pretty dead flat for the four miles from Jordan Park to the Whale. From Jordan Park to The Whale and back, it will be eight very flat miles and a ton of fun.

Dining: Dozens of cafes and restaurants.

When to Go?: It’s hot now, go early.

The post Sunday Drive: To The Whale and back appeared first on Park Record.

It was a gorgeous July Fourth morning. Shivering a bit in the early morning chill, we sat outside the new Bagel Den in Kimball Junction pondering our holiday. In the distance over Old Town, an old T-6 Texan aircraft was blowing white smoke into the clear blue sky in a warmup for the parade.

Of all our options for the day, we decided to make a run up to Wyoming!

Now, there are many reasons to go to Evanston. Lottery tickets come to mind. Watching the ponies run at Wyoming Downs (they’re racing this month). Making a clandestine liquor run to Cowboy Joe’s.

Our grandson Zach used to love to head up to McDonald’s when he was learning to drive. He kept finding these offbeat routes through the backcountry. I know this because I would occasionally have to make a midnight run with a can of gas or a tow strap.

July Fourth is a pretty quiet day in Evanston. We thought we would visit the Old Depot or the Uinta County Museum, but they were closed. But the coolest attraction is open anytime — the old Union Pacific roundhouse.

Evanston has always been a railroad town. It was founded in 1868 when the transcontinental railroad came to town. Its stature briefly moved some miles west to Wahsatch, before it returned the next year. You can still see an old railroad water tower at the I-80 exit just over the state line in Utah. Thriving businesses blossomed on Evanston’s Front Street.

Water, timber and coal were abundant in the region, so Evanston became a major refueling station. It’s stature was celebrated in 1903 when President Theodore Roosevelt pulled into town on a train, greeted by The Famous Saxophone Band of Rock Springs.

As we drove up I-80, we watched mighty Union Pacific train engines pushing and pulling hundreds of cars. Union Pacific has long been the heart and soul of Evanston. The railroad company built its first roundhouse in 1871, replacing it with the structure you see today in 1912.

So what is a roundhouse? The semi-circular building, which now serves as an events center, featured repair bays for locomotives. To enter the building, they would get on a turntable that rotated to the bay of choice, allowing them to easily drive on the tracks into one of 27 repair stalls in the roundhouse. It was an amazing feat to swivel around a 500-ton locomotive and point it into the correct bay.

Today, the bright red brick building looks shiny and new. Outside, three old locomotives sit idle while the turntable is on display. And the turntable, so they say, is still operable!

We stopped by our favorite rock and fossil shop on Front Street. Alas, it, too, was closed. So we wandered over to Suds Brothers Brewery on Main Street, which features an eclectic yet fascinating decor of cowboy-pioneer mixed with rock-n-roll memorabilia. 

Like many Western main streets, every building has its history. Today’s brewery was one of the first J.C. Penney stores in America. The original is just an hour away in Kemmerer.

The drive to Evanston is one you can easily take for granted. To us, a drive up I-80 past Coalville signals a trip back home to Wisconsin. Two weeks later it might mean a return back to our home of the past 36 years.

But as we drove by the redrock mesas and looked out on the peaks of the Uintas, my wife, Carole, remarked, “It just never gets old, does it?”

DETAILS

Getting There: This one’s really simple — just head up I-80, about an hour from Park City. If you have the time, consider coming back via the Mirror Lake Highway.

What to Do: The Uinta County Museum is a nice stop but closed on weekends and holidays. Walking around Depot Square, with a 1900 vintage Union Pacific depot, and the roundhouse will take you back in time. Strolling the rock shops and quilt stores on Front Street and Main Street.

Dining: We love making destination trips up to Jody’s Diner, tucked away on the east side of Evanston. The Suds Brothers Brewery on Main Street is also a fun spot for all ages, with great burgers.

Kids: Before heading up, read about the railroad and the role Evanston played. And see if you can figure out what a roundhouse is.

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Coming down from the flanks of Heber Mountain, our 2011 Jeep Rubicon was enveloped in a wave of white and brown. It was the first of many water holes as we drove down into a deep valley along the West Fork of the Duchesne River. Morning temperatures were just creeping into the 50s without a cloud in sight.

It was a great day for a Jeep adventure!

High up on the north side of the river was the Duchesne Ridge, one of my favorite fall color drives with sweeping meadows on its flanks. On the south, towering pines clung precariously to the steep slopes leading down to the river.

The West Fork has its humble beginnings in headwaters along the eastward-facing slopes of Heber Mountain just a mile away. It runs a squiggly line for 20 miles before sweeping down along S.R. 35 to Hanna, where it joins the main Duchesne River, eventually becoming one with the Green River in Ouray on its journey to the Colorado.

With limited access, this is a quiet part of the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest. We saw just three other vehicles during my four-hour drive.

Just a few miles in, we spotted a strange-looking grove of fallen aspens. Coming up onto the scene, we could see more than 50 stumps with pointed tops — carved away by the orange front teeth of beavers. The scene was almost eerie. Some of these trees were huge, a few so large that they weren’t cut all the way through. With remnants extending three feet above the ground, you get a sense of the size of beavers, which can be three to four feet long and weigh 75 pounds or more.

But while we surveyed the scene and the size of the trees, our minds drifted to how in the world these busy beavers hauled the trunks a hundred yards down to the river. Carole plotted out her route while I started thinking about how maybe they slid them down on the melting spring snow.

Walking through the brush down to the river, you can quickly see the remarkable engineering that goes into a beaver dam. With the spear-like tree trunks forming a bulkhead, sticks and mud are used to create the main dam. It serves to create a pond environment while establishing a lodging structure underneath for their family.

All along the river, beaver dams created pond after pond as the West Fork wiggled its way down the valley. Flowage after flowage poured water from the steep north and south canyon walls into the river, from Vat Creek to Telephone Hollow. 

The region was explored by the Spanish Dominguez-Escalante Expedition in 1776. In the early to mid-1800s, French-American fur traders populated the area, taking advantage of the large beaver population to harvest pelts.

As we came around a corner near the base of Washout Gulch in Pine Hollow, an aged old cabin with a collapsed corrugated roof came into view, standing next to an old corral, undoubtedly with many stories to tell.

As a Jeep driver, you have this great feeling of independence about you — the ability to go where others can’t. You feel it when you reach down to throw the transfer case into 4WD, or when you put your Goodyear off-road tires into a stream crossing.

From rushing creeks to rocky roads, this was one of those mornings where you felt good to be driving a Jeep. Well, until near the end, we ran into a woman in the opposite direction driving the family Honda CR-V. I’m wondering how her day went.

DETAILS

Getting There: It’s about equidistant to access FR050 from Heber Mountain (Center Street in Heber) or Mill Hollow Reservoir (via S.R. 35 from Francis and Woodland). Plot out the route of FR050 (West Fork Duchesne Road) in advance. Plan on 1:15 to get to the intersection of FR054 and FR050 where the trail begins.

Difficulty: While I wouldn’t recommend the family Subaru, this is an easy route with high clearance helpful, but 4WD is not really necessary. This is a long off-road segment with no midway exit points. From Park City, allow six hours or more for the whole adventure.

Dining: Bring lots of water and snacks. If you come up via S.R. 35, consider starting your day at the Woodland Biscuit Company. And when you complete the route on the east side of Wolf Creek Pass, it’s just 10 minutes to the Hanna Hilton & Cafe for a sandwich.

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