A team of intrepid kayakers set out to document the lake as it reaches a historic low water level.
Dedicated enthusiasts seek out petroglyphs and pictographs left behind by Utah’s first people. By Rachel
Fixsen
Photographer Grant Collier reveals why some of the best shots come after the sun has set. Story and photographs by Grant Collier
Dinosaurs, airplanes, incredible artwork and more await visitors at six must-see museums. By Allie Wisniewski and Matt Masich
St. George Museums, p 50
Rock Art, p 26
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
THE SAYING IN the headline is one of those old adages that seems like it has been around forever with no clear author. And while the origins of many sayings have been lost to the mists of time, credit for this particular one is usually given to Arthur Brisbane, who in 1911 was quoted as saying: “Use a picture. It’s worth a thousand words.”
I find it altogether unsurprising that Brisbane’s occupation was the same as mine –he was an editor of a print publication, in his case, the New York Journal.
Words are my bread and butter as editor of Utah Life. When I’m not writing stories myself, I work with other writers to help them finesse their words. Yet, as much pride as I take in my wordsmithing, I’m fully aware of how incomplete our storytelling would be without photographs.
In our table of contents, our bylines credit writers with “story by” and photographers with “photographs by.” That’s pretty standard, yet there’s some part of me that thinks it gives short shrift to the photographers, as they are telling a story every bit as much as the writers. Though I’m primarily a words guy, I’m handy enough with a camera to have photographed several stories that appeared in this magazine. It was not just a matter of snapping a few pictures as I interviewed story subjects – I had to plan and execute the photos with as much deliberation as I did the interview. And it can be stressful: If I forget to ask a question to an interview subject, I can always call them later; if I forget to take a needed photo, I can’t fix the problem with a phone call. Because I know how hard it is to both write and photograph a story, I am particularly impressed with some of our talented contributors who do it all. In this issue, we have two features by writer/photographers.
For our feature on page 18, Scott Baxter circumnavigated the Great Salt Lake by kayak to document the lake at a historic low water level. I was captivated by his written account of his journey before I ever saw the photos he took. Scott talked about water that looked like “raspberry lemonade” and described just how salty his trip got: “We paddled in salt, sat in salt, cooked in salt, ate in salt and slept in salt,” he wrote. “It was a real potato chip sort of feeling.”
Yet as vivid as his descriptions were, what really brought those scenes home were his photographs showing the raspberry lemonade water and the tents pitched on a lakebed of pure salt.
Writing for us for the first time this issue is Grant Collier. Longtime Utah Life readers will already be familiar with Grant’s work as a photographer. His photos of desert landscapes taken at twilight appear in the page 42 feature. The images are awe-inspiring, but what really brings them to life are the stories Grant writes about taking those pictures.
I hope the storytelling in this issue – whether verbal or visual – is as much a joy for you to read as it was for us to create.
MATT MASICH Editor editor@utahlifemag.com
November/December 2022
Volume 5, Number 6
PUBLISHER & EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Chris Amundson
ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER
Angela Amundson
EDITOR
Matt Masich
PHOTO EDITOR
Joshua Hardin
ADVERTISING SALES
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DESIGN
Madison Dupre, Open Look Creative Team
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DELIVERIES FROM OUR READERS
Armchair explorer
Each time I receive my copy of Utah Life, I am enthralled and amazed all over again. I am awed by the wonderful photographs – some of places I have never heard of and some of places which are part of my life, growing up and living here in Utah. The narrative draws me in, and I feel as if I were really in that place.
Utah is filled with beautiful and interesting places. One could spend a lifetime exploring them. I am grateful to do that vicariously through Utah Life. For an elderly woman who has not been driving for over 10 years, it is a joy to “explore,” to hike the trails and the backcountry, to experience the iconic and the unusual –all from home. As much as I would like to be there in person, “exploring” the pages of Utah Life is a great second choice. Thank you for the gorgeous photos of the changing leaves in the September/ October 2022 issue (“Maple Season”). This is my favorite time of year! Thank you especially for the feature in the May/June 2022 issue on Timpanogos Cave – my cave, as I live close to the base of majestic Mount Timpanogos and have loved American Fork Canyon all my life.
Anne Fisher Pleasant Grove
Moab rescuers inspire
The pictures and information about the paramedic efforts in southern Utah in the September/October 2022 issue were inspiring and uplifting (“Deliverance from Above”). I always enjoy the recipes about our Utah eating habits.
Every issue is full of awesome photos. As a novice photographer, I hope to someday take the kinds of photos that are published in your magazine. The magazine is so good, I gave a gift subscription to a friend, so that he could enjoy it as well.
Bart Spencer Ogden
Wild about wildflowers
I totally enjoyed the “Wasatch Wildflowers” article in the July/August 2022 issue. I love seeing wildflowers – they are so colorful.
My husband and I just took our side-byside from Mantua to Willard Peak along the Wasatch Mountains last week. We saw the same wildflowers as in the article the whole ride. It was beautiful. Thank you for such informative articles with ideas of places to visit in Utah.
Denise Moore Brigham City
Is the thorn necessary?
I am notably impressed by the optimism found in reading my Utah Life subscription. As a lifelong Utah resident, I am amazed at what I have yet to learn about our beautiful state and all it entails.
I was positively touched by the “This Is the Place” article (July/August 2022) and the links it portrayed to several of my ancestors and their undaunted faith in Jesus Christ to come here and establish such a wonderful place today at what at first must have seemed a forlorn desert. They had previously been in much greener and less demanding country.
I was OK until I read the line: “One Oregon Trail traveler wrote that Mormons were thought to be ‘inveterately hostile to the emigrant parties,’ and that when they encountered non-Mormons, ‘they intended to attack and murder them, and appropriate to themselves their property.’ ”
This struck me as a thorn in an otherwise well-written article. I must just ask: What prompted such a statement in an otherwise complimentary, optimistic and good faith promoting article?
Joseph D. Hillam Brigham City
Editor’s reply: We mentioned the false rumors about Latter-day Saints to explain why they avoided other emigrants by blazing their own trail on the opposite side of the Platte River. Without understanding the mistrust that some non-Mormons felt toward Mormons, it would not make sense why the Mormons didn’t take the easier, established trail.
Traveling via photos
Absolutely gorgeous! If we did nothing but peruse the wildflower photography in the July/August 2022 issue of Utah Life, our subscription would be worth it. As senior citizens, health concerns no longer allow my husband and I to hike through the breathtaking scenery our state holds. Utah Life magazine allows us to visit them again vicariously through the pages of this wonderful magazine. Thank you for reviving those memories for us.
Paul and Donna Ruiz Layton
Sorry, you’ll have to play fair
Utah Life has been given to me and my husband as a gift. Every issue has brought not just the most beautiful photos, but stories and history of our state. It has brought about a greater appreciation of this incredible state of Utah.
We actually have a contest every issue with the trivia questions. I thought I knew a lot, but Glen, my hubby, has beaten me the last two issues. Is there some way I can help with the questions so I can win?
Belle Brown Cottonwood Heights
Thoughtful gift giver
Utah Life is the best subscription I have, and I have purchased it for five other family members. The stories, insights, recipes, poems and photographs are fabulous. I anticipate each issue.
Judicious guardian of Utah Life
Each and every issue of Utah Life has been such a joy to me, to the point that when I found out that there is also Nebraska Life, I subscribed to that for my sister-in-law in Omaha.
I judiciously guard and pass out the issues of Utah Life to folks that I know from Utah now living in California, and I hope that they see the value of those pictures, articles and recipes as I do, since I am an original subscriber. I also plan on getting Colorado Life for my daughter in Aurora, Colorado.
Thank you for such a great magazine and the way they bring joy to my family.
Franklin Tilley Roseville, California
SEND YOUR LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Thank you for reading and writing! We enjoy hearing from our subscribers around Utah and the world and hope this issue of the magazine inspires you to grace us with your words.
The deadline to send letters for the next issue of Utah Life is Dec. 1. One lucky letter writer
I’d like to suggest Pioneer Village at Lagoon as a worthwhile topic to explore for the magazine. The history and collections preserved in this small area of Lagoon are fascinating and impressive. Visit Newspaper Rock and Sand Island in Bluff, Utah, Found in Utah's Canyon Country. Learn more at UtahsCanyonCountry.com Do what your mother says.
EDITORS’ CHOICE
ABALD EAGLE SWOOPS
in for a landing on a chunk of ice on frozen Farmington Bay, startling a crow that was already there. Thankfully for the crow, it is not on the eagle’s breakfast menu this morning – the majestic raptor has already eaten its fill of fish.
There were so many dozens of bald eagles at Farmington on this day, and photographer Cindy Costa was snapping photographs so fast and furiously, she wasn’t even aware she had captured this thrilling scene until she was reviewing her images after her shoot.
Bald eagles congregate around lakes in Utah each winter, reaching their maximum concentration in January and February. Costa spends her winters photographing the birds at Farmington, as well as along the Bear River and at Utah Lake.
The best time to find bald eagles hunting is right at sunrise or just before dusk. The eagles will feast on fish, while crows and gulls hang around waiting to devour whatever scraps the eagles leave behind.
IN EACH ISSUE, Monumental Exposure features a reader’s photograph of Utah – landscapes, architecture, attractions, events, people or wildlife.
Submit your best photographs for the chance to be published in Utah Life. Send digital images with detailed photo descriptions and your contact information to photos@utahlifemag.com or visit utahlifemag.com/contribute.
This photo was taken with a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV camera equipped with a Tamron SP 150-600mm lens at 600mm, exposed at ISO 800, f/7.1 for 1/2000 of a second.
PHOTOGRAPH BY CINDY COSTA
THE BUZZ AROUND UTAH
Utah’s bears snug in their dens
by LISA TRUESDALE
Inspecting the radio collars of hibernating black bears isn’t the easiest job, but someone’s got to do it. In Utah, that someone is often Darren DeBloois, the game mammals coordinator and resident bear expert for the state’s Division of Wildlife Resources.
During winter and early spring, the DWR team follows the GPS frequencies, locates the dens, checks the collars and looks for cubs. One time, they trekked up the mountain in snowmobiles, then hiked in further, where the beeping transmitters led them to a large evergreen.
Trudging through deep snow for over an hour, they were unable to find a den anywhere nearby.
“Finally, someone suggested climbing the tree, even though it seemed impossible that she could be up there,” DeBloois said. “But there she was, about 30 feet in the air, denning in a hollow where the tree had split near the top.”
She was quite comfy, nearly unseen a few feet down in the hole, with a roof of pine branches.
“Black bears aren’t true hibernators; it’s more of a torpor state, and they can be aroused,” he said. “She was slow to react but was looking up at us as we changed
her collar. After that, she left the tree and found a new den.”
DeBloois doesn’t suggest trying to track down a black bear. Instead, he advises avoiding them whenever possible, though people might encounter one if they’re living, hiking or camping above about 7,000 feet, especially in the springtime, when the bears are emerging hungry from their dens.
A black bear climbs a tree after being released in the Pavant Range. Bears spend much of winter in their dens, though they are not true hibernators.
Phil Tuttle/Utah Division of Wildlife Resources
The population has been growing steadily over the past 10 years, with at least 2,300 black bears now roaming throughout Utah, not including cubs or yearlings. The largest concentrations are in the San Juan and La Sal mountains near Moab, and in the Boulder Mountains in the south. No grizzlies, though; the last one spotted in Utah was about a hundred years ago.
If you ever feel threatened by a black bear, stand your ground. Don’t play dead, like you would with a grizzly – and don’t run away or climb a tree, because those are contests you would lose.
Black bears are smaller than grizzlies, DeBloois said, so make yourself look bigger by standing tall and raising or waving your arms. And bear spray is always handy. “It’s the best way to end an attack or get a bear to leave you alone.”
Utah’s black bear population has been on the rise in the past decade, with some 2,300 bears now living in the state.
Book journeys down Utah roads less traveled
by LISA TRUESDALE
Margaret Pettis has nothing against Utah’s highways. They serve a purpose, she knows, but not for her. Instead, when she is driving throughout the state, searching for places to hike and sketch, she’d rather meander along the quieter, more scenic routes. She eschews GPS, too, locating the roads aided only by trusty paper maps, road signs and her own navigational common sense.
Not everyone desires to travel this way. Many, Pettis writes, only care about “that seven-hour road race from border to border.” So her new book, Back Roads of Utah, is for the rest – those who choose to explore
less-traveled paths, experiencing sights, sounds, history and hospitality they wouldn’t otherwise find.
The book is loosely divided into five regions, but that’s where any similarities to a traditional travel guidebook end. “This is my journey, not a survey of all access routes,” she writes.
Pettis, a former U.S. Forest Service wilderness ranger and mule packer, is also an artist and poet. She always has her art supplies handy, so it’s no wonder her book is filled with sketches of majestic mountain views, interesting rock formations, flora, fauna and intriguing buildings she’s encountered. Combined with the personal narratives that read almost like poems, they help
readers discover the same special, off-thebeaten-path places.
“There are gems for readers who seek new and inspiring and quirky places along a previously rather dull route,” she said. “I offer reasons to slow down. To stop and stretch your legs. Share a fence rail with a friendly horse, and breathe in the sweet scent of sage. That’s how you’ll really remember the beauty and peace of that place.”
Back Roads of Utah is sold at shops including Back of Beyond Books in Moab and Ken Sanders Rare Books in Salt Lake City, as well as online at Amazon.
pg, paperback, $20
Phil Tuttle/Utah Division of Wildlife Resources
Back Roads of Utah
By Margaret Pettis Independently published 195
Hanksville convenience store blasted 100 feet into ‘mountain’
Hank Thompson found the perfect spot for a gas station at the intersection of state highways 24 and 95 in Hanksville. The only problem? There was a sandstone hill covering the property. No matter – Thompson, with the help of 2 ½ tons of dynamite, blasted away enough of the hill to install the pumps. Thompson planned to blast away the rest of the hill to build a convenience store, but then inspiration struck: He would hollow out the sandstone and build the store inside the hill. He opened the store in 1984, dubbing it Hollow Mountain – and while it’s a stretch to call the 60-foot-tall hill a mountain, the subterranean store is still a mountain of an accomplishment. Hollow Mountain is still in operation. Its subsequent owner expanded even farther into the “mountain,” with the restrooms now 100 feet deep in the rock.
Moab bookstore becomes hub for lovers of desert, written word
by RACHEL FIXSEN
Back of Beyond Bookstore’s warm yellow storefront and neon “Open” sign in the window invite visitors from Moab’s Main Street into the cozy interior. It’s packed with fiction and nonfiction books, nature and hiking guides, prints from local artists, and historic posters and books –and in Moab’s busy season, with people, browsing the shelves and wading through decades of desert literary culture.
The idea for the store was born at the 1989 memorial service for Edward Abbey, the counter-culture environmentalist writer who revered the Moab desert and has in turn inspired devotion among many desert dwellers. Friends of Abbey’s launched the store in 1990 and drew the name from one of Abbey’s novels, The Monkey Wrench Gang, in which character
Seldom Seen Smith has a hideout called “Back of Beyond.” The bookstore has been an institution in the small, tight-knit community of Moab ever since.
Themes of environmentalism and the West have always been prioritized on the shelves. In 2004, the original owners sold the store to Andy Nettell, a former ranger at Arches National Park – as was Abbey himself. Nettell diversified the store by expanding into the rare book trade, starting out with first editions of Abbey’s work and further focusing on the Colorado Plateau and Western Americana.
Back of Beyond also holds a “Books for Tots” drive every year, hosts author readings and awards a scholarship to a local college-bound high school graduate each year. Employee Nat Smith has lived in Moab since he was a toddler and remembers visiting Back of Beyond growing up.
Back of Beyond Books owner David Everitt first came to Moab as a ranger at Arches National Park. The store was founded by friends of Edward Abbey.
Joshua Hardin
Joshua Hardin
He was the first student to receive a Back of Beyond scholarship, which he earned through an essay about a book that deep ly impacted him: The Stranger by Albert Camus.
The $1,000 scholarship paid for Smith’s books while he studied creative writing at the University of Montana. It also in cluded a 35 percent-off discount at the store, but Smith asked Nettell if, instead of the discount, he could get a part-time job. Smith worked the Back of Beyond register the summer after he graduated high school and during summers home from college.
After earning his degree, Smith joined the Peace Corps and went to Guatema la, but his service was cut short by the pandemic in 2020. He returned to Moab “with no direction,” he said, and heard that Nettell was looking for someone to assist with the rare book side of the busi ness. The opening allowed Smith to work in a field related to his education and interests while remaining in his hometown, which, after living elsewhere, he realized was a special place.
Smith worked closely with Nettell learning to assess, catalog and price rare books. Nettell recently sold the bookstore; Smith and a colleague now manage the rare book side of Back of Beyond. The new store owner, David Everitt, has his own long relationship with Moab, even serving as Moab’s city manager from 2016 to 2019. But he first moved to Moab to work as a ranger in Arches National Park – like Nettell and Abbey. Back of Beyond carries on its legacy as a hub for lovers of the desert and the written word.
Joshua Hardin
Test your knowledge of Utah’s remarkable buildings.
by BRIAN WANGSGARD
GENERAL ARCHITECTURAL GEMS
1
A Spanish Colonial Revival-style train station, now a museum, was built on land given to two railroads by Brigham Young on the condition the junction for Intermountain West travel would be in which Utah city?
2
Visitors traveling to Park City pass what large 100-year-old structure built with recycled timbers from an old tailings mill, fitted together without nails?
3 Of 25 Utah temples built (or announced) in many varied styles by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the first was completed in 1877 in what city?
4 The Eccles Avenue Historic District in Ogden features many low-gabled brick homes built for well-off families in the 1920s in what classic style?
No peeking, answers on page 61.
5 What Utah performing-arts building is comparable in dimension and acoustical qualities to Avery Fisher Hall in New York and the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.?
Utah State University
Joshua Hardin
6 Near Moab, the Christensen family took 20 years to carve out their Hole N” the Rock House inside a sandstone monolith along U.S. Highway 191 with how many rooms?
a. 6
b. 10
c. 14
7 The Don M. Stromquist House, the only home in Utah built by famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright, is located in which Utah city?
a. Santa Clara
b. Bountiful
c. Midway
8
Nicknamed the “million dollar high school,” the Art Deco Ogden High School was built in 1935-36 under the umbrella of what New Deal recovery program?
11 When the 16-story Walker Bank Building in Salt Lake City was completed in 1912, it was the tallest building between Chicago and San Francisco.
12
Hosting an annual Festival of Colors, the distinctive white edifice in Spanish Fork is the only Krishna temple in Utah.
13 With its iconic tower, Old Main on the campus of Utah State University is the oldest remaining educational building under continual use in the state.
14
The Lion House in Salt Lake City was built by Brigham Young as a residence for all his wives.
15
After its construction of black volcanic rock and dark limestone in 1867, Cove Fort served as a stop for daily stagecoaches. MULTIPLE CHOICE
a. Works Progress Administration (WPA)
b. Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC)
c. Civil Works Administration (CWA)
9 The award-winning Adobe Inc. building completed in 2013 on Lehi’s Silicon Slopes is designed to have what percentage of its interior space with outside views?
a. 82 percent
b. 93 percent
c. 100 percent
10 The distinctive brick Ottinger Hall on Canyon Road in Salt Lake City was built in 1900 for meetings and socials of what group?
a. Daughters of the American Revolution
b. Veteran Volunteer Firemen
c. Sons of the Utah Pioneers
Johnson Pictures Now/Alamy
AROUND THE IN SIX
Heidi Baxter and Matt Kahabka paddle from Fremont Island to Antelope Island at the start of a 180-mile trip around the Great Salt Lake.
THE LAKE DAYS
Kayakers circumnavigate the Great Salt Lake to document its delicate ecology as the water reaches a record low
story and photographs by SCOTT
BAXTER
FALL IS AN incredible time to travel in Utah. The red rock country, having shed its heat and harsh light of summer, wears a warm sweater of soft light by day and brilliant starlight by night. At higher elevations, you can listen to elk bugle as the moon starts its journey across the night sky.
The thought of spending six days paddling 180 miles in one of the most inhospitable places on earth probably does not occur to most people as an appealing fall activity. It was a thought I hatched years ago when it became obvious the Great Salt Lake was on the path to setting a historic record low water level. I committed to myself that when that day came, I would circumnavigate the lake by kayak and document it.
As the lake dropped about 10 feet below what would be considered normal and neared a record low last year, the thought became more real. One clear reason to make the trip whispered in my ears: What many people see as a vast wasteland is a sea teeming with life, history and beauty. Like an old friend in need, the lake called out to me, and I responded. The lake has a story to tell, and I am one of the fortunate voices in the choir that gets to tell that story.
I APPROACHED MATT Kahabka about joining me for the trip. Most of his recreational pursuits involve brutally long distances in inhospitable environments with a high enough potential for death to be sporting. He seemed to be a good fit. In addition, he is amazingly curious, a solid realist with an upbeat enthusiasm, and he appreciates unusual places that most people do not.
Matt had one more defining characteristic: He is my youngest daughter’s boyfriend, which didn’t give him an easy way to say no. The entire family predicted the trip would be the end of the relationship. It was not so much because of the difficulty of the trip, as the difficulty of spending several days with me. As a father, I saw it differently – it was a chance to see if Matt was worth keeping around.
After a day paddling from Antelope Island to Fremont Island and back with Matt and my daughter Heidi, Matt and I began our expedition by paddling away from the Great Salt Lake State Park and
The last surviving brine flies of the season gather around brackish water at the old shoreline on Fremont Island. Elsewhere on the island, Matt Kahabka and Heidi Baxter inspect the ruins of an old homestead.
Marina. The trip would push us to our mental and physical limits. At my stage in life, I would get some comfort knowing I can still do it, or some degree of wisdom knowing that I can’t. Matt, in his late 20s and the definition of fit, had little reason to doubt his ability to make the trip and immersed himself in the experience.
We took a compass bearing and adjusted it to account for drift from the wind and waves for our first landing, about 6 miles of open water away. We also carried the latest satellite technology with us for navigation and communication, but a compass and map are simply more fun. With our kayaks weighed down with enough supplies for 10 days, including more than 50 pounds of water each, we chugged through the brine. Normally we share this part of the lake with sailboats, but they had all been moved out of the marina due to the low water level.
When you are on the lake, you are always watching the wind and weather, like a zebra watches a lion. As we paddled, large waves
California gulls congregate on exposed microbialites near Eardley Spit, south of Stansbury Island. Microbialites are mounds formed by the microorganisms that play a vital role in the food chain on the lake.
broke across our bows – the ripple effect of waves generated by strong winds out of Weber Canyon. The waves on the lake are heavy, steep and close together, and can challenge even the saltiest of seagoers.
When we were about 3 miles from dry ground, the waves got more challenging – approaching the height where you lose sight of each other in the trough – and still growing. The heavily loaded kayaks didn’t play on the water as much as they plowed through it. Spray skirts kept our cockpits from filling with water, and paddling jackets kept us dry except for our exposed hands and heads, which were taking a beating.
Matt is a relative newcomer to sea kayaking, a sport that is a requirement if you want to hang around with Heidi. Like a pickup rider in a rodeo, I moved in behind him on his port side in case he needed assistance. It also allowed me to watch what he was doing so I could give him some pointers. With his natural athletic ability and self-reliance that came
from many years of outdoor adventures, he adapted to the waves as naturally as a 3-year-old adapts to a mud puddle.
Occasionally, large red waves composed of salt water and dead brine shrimp rose in front of us. After laying eggs, or cysts, the shrimp naturally die in late fall. I don’t believe there is a word in the English language that can adequately describe the feeling you have when a red wave smacks you in the face. You see it coming; you hear it splash; you feel it on your face and in your eyes, ears and nose; you smell it; and you taste it. It is an acquired taste and a very sensory experience. With your blurry eyes and flared nostrils on fire, and a flavor in your mouth that would make anchovies taste like chocolate, you paddle on. The waves eventually shifted from sporting to playful.
MORE THAN 10 MILLION birds representing more than 330 species rely on the lake, making it one of the most important shorebird habitats in North America. Feeding 10 million birds
requires a pretty large and efficient cafeteria, and it was that cafeteria I was most interested in seeing.
Cyanobacteria, algae and other microorganisms thrive in the lake’s shallow water. Some species of microorganisms are free-floating, or planktonic, while others are attached to the floor of the lake. The attached organisms create microbialites, often referred to as living rocks.
The microbialites form when microorganisms take in carbon dioxide and produce oxygen by photosynthesis. This process changes the pH in the surrounding water, causing calcium carbonate to precipitate out of the water and into the mats of microorganisms. The calcium carbonate builds up, along with other sediments that get trapped in the microbe mats, forming mounds called microbialites.
The cyanobacteria and algae in the microbialites are the food source for brine flies, which are, in turn, one of the two primary food sources for the birds. If you are on the lake at the right time, you can see brine flies bubbling up like champagne from the microbialites below as they start their adult stage in life. The first thing the flies do when they surface is try out their new wings, flying right into your mouth and lodging at the back of your throat. They are also fond of the nose and ears.
The other food source for birds is brine shrimp, which graze on the floating microorganisms. Brine shrimp are not picky eaters: If it fits in their mouth, they will do their best to eat it. The question is, with lowering water levels and increasing salinity levels, how much longer can these food sources survive? One of the major reasons for the trip was to document the current status of the microbialites.
Our first stop was Eardley Spit, south of Stansbury Island. On a map, it looks like a man-made structure, about 4 miles long and 3 football fields wide cutting across the lake from the west shore. The spit is one of many fault lines that run under the lake. As we paddled by the end of the spit, we could see a long string of microbialites emerging from the water. A gull was perched on the top of each one, claiming it as a private island.
It was fascinating to see the bottom of the lake above the water. The only prob-
North of Spiral Jetty, Scott Baxter and Matt Kahabka mark the 100th mile of their trip. Pyramidal hopper crystals of salt float on the lake. Brine shrimp struggle to surive in the lake’s highly saline north end.
lem is that when microbialites are exposed to the air, they die. We saw vast expanses of exposed microbialites. The lake hitting a record low is concerning for many reasons, and the potential collapse of the food chain is one of them. We were seeing what we had come to see, and it was an unpleasant sight.
Climbing out of our kayaks we stretched our legs. While Matt, with a curious expression and wobbly legs, was playing a game of one step forward and two steps back on a steep dune, a rogue wave came in from the east, covering my deck and filling my cockpit with dead brine shrimp. Matt enjoyed a good laugh and then went back to trying to climb the dune. The shrimp were sticky and smeared when I
attempted to scrape them out, leaving my kayak with a nice fishing pier aroma for the rest of the trip. In many ways, paddling the lake is a lot like going down a rabbit hole, and you just need to accept it.
AS WE PADDLED north, we slowly passed what were once islands large and small, now just mounds on the dry, exposed lakebed. We covered 23 miles in the waves of the first day and 27 miles in waves on the second day, leaving us 10 miles behind schedule.
In the dark hours of the morning of the third day, we went through a breach in the railroad causeway. Built in the late ’50s, the causeway essentially divided the lake into two lakes. The northwest end of the
lake has no freshwater inlet, and with the causeway limiting the mixing of waters from the south, the water is at the full saturation level of salt, about 27 percent.
Even in the dim twilight, we could tell we had gone down another rabbit hole. As the light increased, there was a purple glow. Rafts of ice crystals reflected on the surface of the calm water, along with thin mats of foam mixed with brine shrimp cysts. The sun climbed into the sky, and the white salt on the bottom of the lake reflected the light, making the water look like raspberry lemonade. The color is a byproduct of the microorganisms that live in the water.
We made an early start hoping to make up 7 miles, as the wind and waves had hampered our progress. We passed Gunnison Island, a nesting place for American white pelicans and off limits to people. It is also where Stansbury and Gunnison built one of their triangulation stations while mapping the lake from 1849 to 1851. We continued north. In places, the dry lakebed stretched out for more than 11 miles to the west. If a lightning storm blew in, we would be the highest point.
Good adventures are often more of a mental challenge than a physical challenge. It had been days since we had seen another person or anything in the environment that could be called familiar. Matt, a master navigator in almost any terrain, commented in bewilderment, “There is nothing about the lake that gives me a sense of scale or distance.” After 30 years on the lake, I had to admit I still have the same problem. Looking north with the sun at our back, the lake disappeared with the curvature of the earth. The Hogup Mountains were visible, and the Raft River Mountains at just under 10,000 feet looked like small hills.
Mirages danced in front of us, taunting our senses. Somewhere between us and the Raft River Mountains was the north end of the lake, and from what we could discern, it could be 10 miles or 100 miles away. Our kayaks moved slowly. We felt we were paddling hard even though fatigue was setting in.
What we saw more than anything else was endless water and dry lakebed. The lake has about 45 percent less surface
Old microbialites near Gunnison Island are covered in salt crystals. Salt encrusts the rudder of a kayak; salt crystals also formed on the bottom of the kayaks, creating drag that slowed progress.
Baxter and Kahabka camp for the night on a beach of salt near Promontory Point. Everything seemed to stop working properly in the extremely salty environment: zippers, Velcro, snaps and even knots.
area now than it does at normal levels. That equates to about 750 square miles of exposed lakebed.
We were far from being lost, but at the same time, we were not very sure where we were; we could have been on another planet, based on the view. There was no need for a map or GPS. We just had to keep pushing ahead. Like a climber on a steep snow slope putting one foot in front of the other time and time again, just to have the horizon fade into another higher horizon, we paddled on. Everyone experiences this feeling sometime in life – often it is the feeling of life itself. We finished the day having covered just under 40 miles, more than making up for the previous days.
EVERYTHING STOPS WORKING
in salt; rudders, Velcro, zippers, snaps and even knots stopped working. Electronics stayed safely stowed. Salt crystals formed on our arms, paddles and the decks of the kayaks. Salt crystals also grew underneath our kayaks, creating
incredible drag, which solved the mystery of our slow progress. We had to stop and scrape them off. With the salt crystals removed from the kayaks, our pace improved from about 2 knots to just over 4 knots with less effort.
We paddled in salt, sat in salt, cooked in salt, ate in salt and slept in salt. It was a real potato chip sort of a feeling. While making a crossing south of Spiral Jetty, fatigue penetrated deep into our muscles. We had passed the 100-mile mark about 10 miles earlier. True to his nature, Matt’s curiosity trumped the need to continue. He stopped paddling and started putting his hands in the water. After a few attempts, he used the tip of his finger to pick up a delicate hopper salt crystal that was floating on the surface of the water.
“Look,” he exclaimed, “it’s an inverted pyramid.” Later, he said, “Every time this lake grinds you down, it also shares a little bit of magic.”
On our last salty night on the north end, we made land about 25 minutes before
sunset. As I unloaded gear from my kayak, I heard a voice say, “Oh, this feels good.” I looked toward the lake to see Matt floating in a sea of raspberry lemonade. With no time to spare before sundown, I took off everything that I planned to wear later and made my way into the water, my hat still on my head. Because of the density of the water, you float in the lake, and after paddling about 120 miles, what we experienced was more relaxing and luxurious than the finest spa.
It was a bit of refreshment we both needed. Matt had endured miles of inhospitable waters in a kayak and never lost his curiosity and reverence for the lake. Other than pain in his lower back, he was showing no signs of wear and tear. I was just glad to still have a pulse.
We started the next day at 4:30 a.m., when I awoke to Matt cooking blueberry pancakes. He was casually sitting in the salt while cooking on a small gas stove like he does it every day. “I thought we could use a few extra calories to get over the
railroad causeway,” he said. I added some backyard chicken eggs to the meal. We reached the railroad causeway near the tip of Promontory Point and had to carry our gear and kayaks up and over it. Entering Gilbert Bay, the water looked so clear and pristine compared to the raspberry lemonade we had been paddling in that we both had the feeling that we could drink it.
Looking over the tops of more dead microbialites, we could see north, up the Bear River drainage. The wetlands of the Bear River create a paradise for birds and were the most important wetland sustaining the Northwest Shoshone before the arrival of the pioneers. Evaporation ponds for mineral extraction and the railroad causeway span the lower end of the bay now. Water was no longer flowing into the lake from the Bear River, historically the largest tributary to the lake.
While crossing to Fremont Island, Matt announced a wind coming from the west. Looking west, I could see what looked like troubled water, but it was more spectac-
ular than wind waves. Eared grebes – as many as 5.6 million, or almost the entire population on earth – congregate on the lake each fall to fatten up on brine shrimp before their flight south. We paddled through large flocks of eared grebes for the next 35 miles of the trip. We ended that day in the campground on Antelope Island. Heidi cooked us a gourmet dinner, and we had a relatively comfortable night sleeping on the concrete pad by the picnic table. Civilization felt good.
On the last beautiful early morning of the trip, we paddled along Antelope Island on our way south for 25 miles. It was just us and a few million eared grebes. The 1,200-foot-tall Kennecott smokestack that is dwarfed by the Oquirrh Mountains that rise more than 4,000 feet above the lake is the beacon that led us back to the safety of the south marina.
In today’s world of jumping off a cliff while attached to a bungee to see what happens, pounding out 30 grueling miles a day in difficult water may not fit the
definition of an adventure.
This trip was an adventure, but it was more of a trip of relationships. I was paddling water I had paddled for over 30 years, and Matt was just starting his experience on the lake. Matt and Heidi are still together. I am planning another trip around the lake with possibly the best adventuring partner I have ever had. Matt and I will be coated in salt again about the time this article is published. I think one of the things that makes strong relationships is sharing challenging experiences that help to develop understanding. It is even better when those challenges are in support of something beyond ourselves.
The people of Utah are just starting to develop a new relationship with and understanding of the lake. I think that relationship will be the only thing that can save the lake, along with some generous help from Mother Nature. Utah truly is a place of uniqueness and wonder, and the Great Salt Lake is one of the reasons why.
The Raft River Mountains are visible on the left at this spot about 4 miles from the northwest end of the Great Salt Lake.
STORIES
ETCHEDINSTONE
Rock art enthusiasts seek out petroglyphs and pictographs left by Utah’s earliest people
by RACHEL FIXSEN
Editor’s note:
This is the first in a Utah Life series on ancient rock art found across the state. We begin with this story and photos focusing on rock art in southeast Utah.
The petroglyphs on Birthing Rock near Moab were created over many centuries by people from the Ancestral Puebloan, Fremont and Ute cultures.
Bret Edge
A sign at the Dark Angel Petroglyphs in Arches National Park encourages visitors to do their part to keep the ancient rock art intact. To preserve petroglyphs and pictographs, it is important not to touch them.
TROY SCOTTER HAS a vivid memory of the first time he saw rock art up close. Soon after he moved from Alberta, Canada, to attend Brigham Young University in Utah, he tagged along with a roommate on a trip to Goblin Valley State Park. But when they arrived at the campground late Friday night, they were turned away.
“The guy just laughed at us,” Scotter recalled. “It was the spring, and he said, ‘We’ve been full for three days!’ ”
Scotter and his companion drove off on the dirt roads that traverse the desert surrounding the park, looking for another place to crash. Much of the area is overseen by the Bureau of Land Management,
and at the time – it was the early ’90s – it was wide open to dispersed camping. (Because southern Utah is increasingly popular, the bureau now restricts camping in many high-use areas to protect the landscape.)
It was getting late, and it was dark and quiet out in the red rock desert.
Finally, they saw a little two-track leaving the road that led to a nice, flat spot. They flopped down their camping gear and went to sleep. When Scotter woke up in daylight, it was to the sight of large, painted red figures looming on the rock face above him – a Barrier Canyon style rock art site. Archaeologists attribute this style to the Archaic people, who lived in the area between 8,000 BC and 500 AD.
“I just thought, ‘Holy smokes!’ I’d never seen anything like that before,” Scotter said. He’d seen petroglyphs – images carved or pecked into rock – in Canada, and knew a little about rock art, but he’d never before seen anything as impressive as the site he and his roommate had stumbled upon in the dark.
“It was stunning,” Scotter said.
That experience sparked a decades-long fascination with Utah rock art for Scotter, and he’s not alone in his pursuit. Hundreds of thousands of visitors who come to southern Utah make stops at rock art sites: petroglyphs pecked into or pictographs painted on boulders, on canyon walls, or in alcoves all over the region.
Randy Langstraat
A row of ancient faces greets modern visitors to Five Faces Alcove, located in
Davis Canyon in the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park.
Randy Langstraat
The Ute Beaver Panel is near the Utah-Colorado border. At right, the Sego Canyon pictographs are found near the ghost town of Sego.
ARCHAEOLOGISTS HAVE determined rough timelines of peoples who lived in Utah as far back as 12,000 B.C. and identified telltale characteristics of rock art styles associated with different cultures, but there are still a lot of unknowns.
For example, dating rock art is extremely difficult. The National Park Service administers a site called the Great Gallery, which defines the Barrier Canyon style, known for an emphasis on anthropomorphic figures with elongated proportions, bilateral symmetry and headdresses or crowns. In 2014, researchers used a new technique called optically stimulated luminescence to try to date the Great Gallery and estimated that it was created between 900 and 2,000 years ago – significantly later than previous estimates using other techniques, which placed the panel’s creation between 2,000 and 8,000 years ago.
The mysteries associated with rock art may be part of the allure for so many visitors, enthusiasts and researchers. That, along with the weight of history and the beauty of the sites themselves, makes rock art irresistible for some.
“It’s the same thing with going to Rome,” Scotter said. “It’s nice to see a picture of
the Sistine Chapel, but it’s a different feeling than being in the Sistine Chapel and looking up at the walls and the ceiling.”
After his first face-to-face encounter with the rock art of southern Utah, Scotter was keen to learn more. While visiting the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park, he stopped at an outpost general store and found Kenneth Castleton’s Petroglyphs and Pictographs of Utah, a guide that describes sites and the history of Native cultures in Utah.
Scotter bought a copy and started poring over it, he said. Around then he also found the Utah Rock Art Research Association, or URARA.
The group formed organically in the ’80s as a small social circle who met up to look for rock art sites. As it grew, it became more formal; by the time Scotter joined in the ’90s, it had its official name and hosted regular field trips to rock art sites for its members.
On his first trip with URARA, Scotter was excited to dive deeper into his hobby, learning from experts and exchanging ideas with others, but he was also intimidated – he thought he might be the only member without a degree in archaeology. He strategized to arrive at the group’s
Randy Langstraat
campsite late in the evening, so he could sneak in unnoticed. To his surprise, when he drove in around 10 p.m., he found everyone awake and enjoying a casual social hour with a backyard barbecue vibe.
“There was a truck with buckets of KFC; everyone was just hanging out,” Scotter said. “They were so excited to have someone new come.” No one on the trip had an archaeology degree. He got ribbed about the Volvo he was driving – everyone else had trucks capable of handling the rugged terrain of Utah’s backcountry – but he felt welcome. Years later, he served as the group’s president; currently he’s the URARA webmaster.
The group has more than 500 members from both within and outside the state. Its three areas of focus are education on the history of rock art and Native cultures in Utah; conservation/preservation of rock art and archaeological sites; and activities like field trips and symposiums for members.
The group first started to get more serious about conservation when members saw a threat to archaeology sites in Nine Mile Canyon, an area in central Utah dense with rock art panels. In the mid-’90s, oil and gas companies started exploring the potential for drilling wells in the area.
“The group opposed it, and it set us off
on a whole different course,” Scotter said. “We had to learn a lot of things to become advocates.”
In a departure from studying rock art, group members started researching government processes, acronyms and laws. They got help from professional archaeologists who could point them toward the most effective methods to protect the sites, by identifying specific language and when and how to engage in federal agencies’ official evaluation processes.
When another potential oil and gas drilling project was proposed – this time on the Tavaputs Plateau – federal agencies recognized URARA’s expertise in rock art sites and invited the group to participate and help identify critical archaeological sites for protection.
Conservation and preservation doesn’t only mean slogging through legalese and government procedures. URARA members also help agencies in the field with things like placing signs, maintaining trails and documenting sites. Recently at a site in the Indian Creek area, which is part of the new Bears Ears National Monument, URARA members spotted images on a rock art panel that had never been documented before.
Joshua Hardin
The Harvest Scene at the bottom of Pictograph Fork in the Maze District of Canyonlands National Park is done in the Barrier Canyon style.
Glenn Randall
DISCOVERING undocumented figures is a thrilling moment for a rock art enthusiast, but one doesn’t have to venture to remote places to marvel at rock art. Some of the best sites – the most impressive and varied – are accessible by car with short trails and interpretive signs that point out the most interesting features. Scotter highly recommends the Sego Canyon site near Thompson Springs.
“If people ask, ‘What’s the one site I should go to in Utah?’ I always say Sego,” Scotter said. “It’s an absolutely fantastic series of panels.”
Three cultures are represented there: Barrier Canyon, Fremont and Ute. Some of the Fremont images are superimposed on top of some of the Barrier Canyon panels, a circumstance that helps researchers to date rock art and, Scotter said, is fascinating to see. The Fremont culture is thought to have occupied Utah between A.D. 200 and 1300. Fremont-style rock art varies widely across geographic regions, but generally Fremont anthropomorphs have trapezoidal bodies, rectangular heads and decorative necklaces and sashes.
Ute rock art is recognizable by the inclusion of items brought to North America by European explorers. Ute people, who continue to live in southern Utah today, occupied the area when Spanish explorers arrived, bringing horses and guns; the mobility allowed by horses also brought Ute tribes into greater contact with Plains cultures, where they developed an interest in bison. Images of bison, horses and/or guns indicate that the panel is from this later culture. Ute and other Native American tribes still thrive in Utah and the Four Corners region. Many of these tribes maintain strong connections to rock art sites. In a 2017 paper about Utah rock art, Scotter and his co-author, Nina Bowen, quote a Paiute elder who described rock art panels as “learning rocks.”
URARA is striving to build stronger connections with tribes: They created a board position tasked with developing relationships with Native communities. At their fall symposium in Vernal, a combination of professional archaeologists, academics, amateur enthusiasts and URARA members gave presentations; one presentation was from a Ute speaker.
Visitors take in the Butler Wash Panel near Bluff. The Great Gallery in Canyonlands has some of the most significant Barrier Canyon artwork.
Jim Shoemaker
Matt Morgan/Visit Utah
This petroglyph in Montezuma Canyon is known as the Rainmaker.
Randy Langstraat
In addition to the symposium, members can join monthly field trips to rock art sites – usually sites that are wellknown and managed for visitation, with established trails – both to learn about the sites and enjoy each other’s company. The
group also offers lesson plans for teachers; sometimes members visit grade-school history classes to give lectures.
URARA welcomes new members. People can sign up through the website, urara.wildapricot.org. Signature on a list
Newspaper Rock, in San Juan County between Moab and Monticello, is one of the largest concentrations of Native rock art in the nation.
of site-visit ethics, outlining respectful behaviors to follow and damaging behaviors to avoid, is mandatory.
“Otherwise, we’re pretty much the cheapest date in town,” Scotter said. There’s a $25 membership fee.
This fall, URARA members are helping to survey areas around Vernal that could be impacted by a proposed fracking operation. Some of the properties have never been surveyed for rock art, and Scotter said there’s a high potential for undocumented panels to be recorded, based on what’s known about habitation in the surrounding areas. Participants in the survey are contributing to the preservation of a precious cultural resource, and they may also get a chance to experience the wonder of discovery.
Extent and nature of circulation: First column: Average no. copies each issue during preceding 12 months. Second column: Actual no. copies of single issue published nearest to filing date.
2
Total no. copies (net press run) 8,759 17,891
Joshua Hardin
CEDAR CITY PRESENTS THE ANNUAL HISTORIC DOWNTOWN LIGHTING CEREMONY SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 2022 AT 5:30 PM
Save Room for Pie
Delicious desserts liven up holiday meals
recipes and photographs by
DANELLE McCOLLUM
TURKEYS AND HAMS might be the center of attention at the holiday dinner table, but for many of us, the main course is merely the prelude for pie. Make one of these pie recipes for your next holiday get-together, and chances are it’ll be so memorable that you’ll be asked to bring it again next year. The focus of these recipes is on the filling. For the crust, you can either use uncooked refrigerated pie crusts or use your own favorite crust recipe.
Cranberry Chocolate Pecan Pie
Fresh cranberries, dark chocolate and pecans join forces in this decadent holiday pie. The pie looks beautiful and festive, and the balance of sweet and tart is just right. This recipe can be made several days in advance, which comes in handy when preparing for big holiday dinners. Filling the crust with pie weights or uncooked rice while baking is necessary to prevent the crust from sliding into the middle.
Transfer uncooked pie crust to 9-inch pie plate. Trim pastry about 1/2-inch beyond rim of plate and flute edge. Refrigerate 30 minutes. Prick pie crust all over with fork, then line with double thickness of foil or parchment paper. Fill with pie weights, dried beans or uncooked rice. Bake at 450° for 10-15 minutes, or until edges are light golden brown. Remove crust to wire rack and remove foil and weights. Reduce oven temperature to 350°.
In large bowl, beat eggs, sugar and melted butter until well blended. Whisk in flour until smooth. Stir in vanilla extract. Stir in pecans, cranberries and chocolate chips. Pour into crust. Bake at 350° for 30-35 minutes or until top is bubbly and crust is golden brown. Cool to room temperature before serving. Refrigerate leftovers.
1 uncooked 9-inch pie crust
3 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter, melted
3 Tbsp flour
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup chopped pecans
1 ½ cups fresh cranberries
1 ¼ cups semisweet chocolate chips
Serves 8
Quick and Easy Skillet Apple Pie
This recipe takes a few shortcuts to create a “tastes like homemade” apple pie in almost no time at all. Rather than a traditional pie tin, the pie is cooked and served in a cast-iron skillet. The pie can be served in slices like normal, but it’s also fun to scoop a bunch of ice cream on top and let everyone dig in with a spoon right from the skillet.
Melt butter in 9-inch cast iron skillet over medium heat. Remove 1 Tbsp of butter for top crust. Add brown sugar and stir well. Continue cooking for a few minutes until mixture just begins to bubble and sugar is dissolved.
Remove from heat and lay one pie crust in skillet, over melted butter and brown sugar mixture. Spread apple pie filling evenly over crust. In small bowl, toss together white sugar and cinnamon. Sprinkle 1 Tbsp of cinnamon sugar over apple pie filling. Top filling with second pie crust, folding the edges over to form a border.
Brush top crust with reserved 1 Tbsp butter. Sprinkle with additional cinnamon sugar, as desired. Cut vents in center of pie. Bake for at 400° for 30 minutes or until golden brown. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream.
1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
1 cup brown sugar
2 refrigerated 9-inch pie crusts
1 21 oz can apple pie filling
2 Tbsp white sugar
1 tsp cinnamon Vanilla ice cream for topping
Serves 8
German Chocolate Fudge Pie
A rich, brownie-like filling is topped with a traditional German chocolate frosting in a pie loaded with pecans and coconut. The frosting is so good, you’ll be tempted to eat it straight – but the recipe makes a generous amount, so feel free to sample a few bites.
In medium bowl, combine melted butter, sugar, vanilla and eggs until well blended. Stir in flour and cocoa until smooth. Stir in chocolate chips and pecans. Pour mixture into prepared pie crust and spread evenly. Bake at 350° for 25-30 minutes or until center no longer jiggles and inserted toothpick comes out clean. Cool completely.
Meanwhile, make frosting by stirring together condensed milk, egg yolks and butter in medium saucepan. Cook over medium-low heat, whisking constantly until thick and bubbly. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla extract, coconut, pecans and pinch of salt. Cool completely before spreading over pie. If desired serve pie topped with chocolate fudge sauce and/or pecan halves for garnish.
Pie
1 uncooked 9-inch pie crust
1/2 cup butter (1 stick), melted
1 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs
3/4 cup flour
1/3 cup cocoa
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup chopped pecans
Frosting
1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk
3 egg yolks, lightly beaten
1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 ½ cups sweetened flaked coconut
3/4 cup chopped pecans
Pinch of salt
Serves 8
What’s in Your Recipe Box?
The editors are interested in featuring your favorite family recipes. Send your recipes (and memories inspired by your recipes) to editor@utahlifemag.com.
UTAH THROUGH OUR POETS
THERE’S A SEASONAL MAGIC that accompanies winter’s arrival. The nights grow cold and dark, then frost appears, followed by snow. Our poets celebrate this special season of frost.
Backyard Frost
Michael Shoemaker, Magna
Frost caps my roses. Didn’t deadhead them, again. Said I would, but never got to it. No frost blankets protecting them. The buds wear fuzzy frozen crystalline hats.
Frost envelopes my grapevines. Empty branches outlined in translucent ice. Still brown leaves clinging to part of the vine. Crowding out images of delicious September harvest.
Frost disinterests our house cat. Her face against the double-pane window. Stretching out her body to reach the last sunrays of warmth. One paw dangles and droops from the windowsill onto the couch before sleep.
Time for Sleep
Ellen R. Liebelt
As seasons change from warm to chill The long days of summer begin to end That morning when white-dusty frost
Covers the ground like a lacy shroud
Signals the living into a long, deep sleep. The leaves turn brown, red or gold Fall to the earth frozen and cold Garden fruits and harvest wane Cleared from their beds awaiting the new. But for now ’neath winter’s frosty coat
Nature succumbs to a peaceful rest.
Tasting Miracles
Vaughn Neeld, Cañon City, Colorado
At the heart of each snowflake an opaline flash flares beneath a watery sun. With each step we take, we smash miracles that lie beneath our feet.
Scoop up a handful, toss them into the air, open your mouth; let miracles frost your tongue.
Forest Silence
Nad Richard Brown, St. George
There is a sacred silence that surrounds me as the snow falls gently on grateful pine boughs. If they could, they would lift their limbs in thanks for this long-awaited relief. I love the stillness I feel here. The world is full of sounds but I love listening to nothing –the forest, quiet, tranquil.
Eric Peterson
Friend, Frost
Garry Glidden, Saint George
Friend, Frost!
On cold winter morns, you effortlessly decorate our panes, showing yourself in them as delicate ice sculptures, and fragile fern and ice flowers.
Like your cousin, snowflake, your designs are all one-of-a-kind, but they soon melt away and vanish with the first rays of the sun, for daylight gives you a brief form.
The brilliance of hoarfrost on branches and power lines challenge you to flash before the melt. Oh, how you aspire to a sparkle worthy of Baccarat and Waterford.
As it ascends, a waking sun’s first light is cast on frosty blades of grass, car windshields and roof shingles. Soon, vapors of your passing will rise into crisp and clear skies.
In your Herculean way, you split and heave the soil from winter’s dew, mist and rain. You hug the ground lest any rise above your station put an end to you as your set temperature rises.
Frost, master craftsman of crystal, your dusting of garden flowers and leaves makes a sugar-frosted landscape for all to see. The chill you bring makes parsnips all the sweeter and relieves us from the scorching summer heat.
Your freeze of leaves and shoots is preparatory for a new life in spring, but for now, we can enjoy your intermission and indulge in the sensuous enjoyment of the welcome chill you bring, friend Frost.
A mountain
Frost L. J. Christensen, Bountiful
Frost, so delicate but intricate it clings to any surface exposed to night’s moist air, be it windows, forests or fields it brings beauty to winter that before was not there.
Frost harkens a new season that befalls us summer long set while forests leaves lay bare, notice that landscape will soon own a white crust winter sleep begins as nature finds its lair.
Frost so delicate and fragile its display can erase by the whisper of a finger, however, in so doing, do not dismay for next morn’s return might bring it to linger.
Frost reminds us that dark and cold is needed when during winter most seek to find cover, it recharges the Earth that has been seeded the bounty of spring with all of its color.
WE INVITE YOU to submit poems inspired by Utah for future issues of Utah Life. The January/February 2023 issue’s theme is “Potpourri” (open category), with a deadline of Nov. 15; the March/April 2023 theme is “Renewal,” with a deadline of Jan. 15. Visit utahlifemag.com/poetrysubmission to submit your poems, or email to poetry@utahlifemag.com.
bluebird sings at the mouth of Ophir Canyon. Aspen and maple leaves are frozen into a stream in the Wasatch Range.
David Schultz/Alamy
Three Kinds of Twilight
Utah landscapes take on a magical new beauty just after sunset
story
and photographs by
GRANT COLLIER
The Milky Way rises above Thor’s Hammer and other formations in Bryce Canyon National Park during astronomical twilight, the latest stage of twilight.
ON A COLD day in January, I stop to eat in Boulder at one of the few open restaurants I have seen in days. Since I neglected to bring my own food, I have been surviving on semi-edible snacks from the shelves of rundown gas stations. A real meal has rarely sounded better.
After scarfing down two platefuls of food, I return to my car and peruse my map. I see a dirt road called Burr Trail that cuts through some of the most remote terrain in the Colorado Plateau. I had planned to drive straight home after spending a week in Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. As is often the case, though, I cannot resist taking a detour.
Burr Trail passes several white slickrock
domes before descending into a canyon that seems to possess a million different shades of red. I stop to photograph the abstract patterns that have been carved into the canyon walls by the forces of erosion.
I am so fascinated by the scene that I linger a bit too long. The same canyon walls that have drawn my interest also block my view of the surrounding landscape. This could prevent me from capturing a dramatic photo at sunset.
I jump back in my car and continue driving along Burr Trail as it winds towards the lonely town of Ticaboo. The canyon walls gradually begin to widen, and the snow-covered Henry Mountains come into view in the distance. I quickly pull off the road but discover that I am too
late. The sun has already set.
I sit for a few minutes, watching the clouds float above the mountain peaks during the earliest part of twilight, called civil twilight. As I prepare to leave, I see a brilliant pink glow emerging above the mountains called the Belt of Venus. Below this glow is Earth’s shadow, a deep blue band of sky formed by our planet casting a shadow on its own atmosphere.
I quickly retrieve my camera and begin feverishly snapping photos. I realize that this scene is better than anything I would have captured at sunset.
From this point forward, I will rarely put my camera away once the sun has set. I have become irrevocably hooked by the magic of twilight.
The Belt of Venus and Earth’s shadow rise above the Henry Mountains, as seen from Burr Trail during civil twilight. During this stage immediately following sunset, there is still too much light to see the stars.
Partially shrouded by distant clouds, the full moon rises above the badlands near Hanksville during civil twilight.
The moon and the constellation Orion shine above buttes and mesas, as seen from a remote overlook near Moab during nautical twilight. To the bottom left of Orion is Sirius, which is the brightest star in the night sky.
NINE YEARS AND two months later, I again find myself driving down a desolate road in Utah. This road branches into a bewildering maze of trails, all leading to their own small section of nowhere. I do my best to stay on the main road before veering right onto a small, two-track lane. I park a few miles up this road and set off on foot for my destination – a secluded natural arch with a small cave hidden just behind it.
I walk until a large canyon composed of red-and-white banded sandstone appears in front of me. This canyon is mostly hidden until you are at its edge, staring at a 500-foot drop down to a dry streambed.
After seeing nothing but a stark, flat landscape for several hours, the canyon appears as a mirage, a mere figment of my imagination. The sandstone walls undulate like heat waves rising from the desert floor, reinforcing this illusion. An illusion of an illusion? I guess that is called reality.
I can just make out the arch standing atop the whimsical canyon walls. Unfortunately, it sits directly on the other side of the canyon. I have ventured a bit too far west and will need to backtrack. By the time I finally reach the arch, the sun has set. However, I am confident that the best photo opportunities will once again come during twilight.
At dusk, Earth’s shadow and the Belt of Venus appear in the eastern part of the sky. Tonight, I will be shooting towards the west so neither phenomenon will be visible. I will have to wait until nautical twilight and photograph the stars as they reemerge in the heavens.
Photographing during nautical twilight is considerably more challenging than photographing during civil twilight. There is still enough light at the start of civil twilight that you could probably capture good images with a camera phone. When nautical twilight arrives about 30 minutes later, the landscape will ap-
pear mostly dark to the human eye. However, the camera can still pick up light that is refracted onto the land by the atmosphere. You may need to combine multiple exposures of the land with an exposure of the sky to capture adequate detail in an image. At the very least, you will need a sturdy tripod and a camera with manual settings.
I spend around 30 minutes shooting images of the arch from inside the cave. By the end of nautical twilight, it has become too dark to capture detail in the cave. The color has also faded from the horizon, so I pack up my camera, lenses and tripod.
Rather than hiking back right away, I decide to linger at this spot. My most memorable moments come when I can put down the camera and marvel at the landscape, not solely with sight but with all of my senses. Only then can I truly appreciate a place and find that sense of wonder that was ever-present in childhood but that is buried too far within me today.
A natural arch is seen from inside a small rock cave during nautical twilight, when stars begin to appear in the night sky. The yellow part of the sky marks the spot where the sun set about 45 minutes earlier.
Stages of Twilight
Stage 1
CIVIL TWILIGHT
Civil twilight lasts from the moment the sun slips below the horizon until the sun’s center is six degrees below the horizon. At this time, it is still light enough to see but dark enough for the brightest planets to become visible.
Stage 2
NAUTICAL TWILIGHT
Nautical twilight begins when civil twilight ends and lasts until the center of the sun is 12 degrees below the horizon. The stars begin to appear, which meant early sailors could begin using them for navigation.
Stage 3
ASTRONOMICAL TWILIGHT
Astronomical twilight begins when nautical twilight ends and lasts until the center of the sun is 18 degrees below the horizon. It appears almost completely dark, and distant things like the Milky Way become visible, but there is still a tiny amount of sunlight refracted onto the land.
The same three stages of twilight occur before sunrise but in the opposite order.
ANOTHER FOUR YEARS and four months later, and I find myself driving along a paved road in Arches National Park. After undergoing a second spinal fusion, I am forced to stay on the beaten path more often these days.
On this evening, I have come to photograph Comet NEOWISE above Double Arch. This comet was discovered just four months earlier and has been putting on a dazzling display in the night sky. I will have to wait until the last stage of twilight, called astronomical twilight, to shoot the comet since it has been rapidly fading in brightness the past few nights.
It appears almost completely dark during astronomical twilight, but a tiny amount of light is still refracted onto the land. It is dark enough that you can photograph some of the fainter objects in the night sky, including the Milky Way.
As I am shooting the comet, another photographer begins shining a flashlight
from underneath Double Arch. I usually try to avoid capturing any artificial light in my images but know this isn’t always possible in a place as popular as Arches National Park. Tonight, the photographer happens to be standing in just the right spot. The light adds a warm glow to the interior of the arch without affecting the rest of the scene. I find that it actually helps my image.
Although I have captured a satisfactory photograph, this seems largely irrelevant. It is now July 2020, and the world is grappling with the deadly new COVID-19 virus. Simply being back in nature and seeing this comet is all the blessing I need in these dark times.
This brilliant comet has appeared so unexpectedly that it seems to signal hope in the middle of so much despair. At the very least, it has confirmed something that I first learned over a decade ago. If you take the time to look, you can discover beauty in the darkness.
Comet NEOWISE streaks across the sky above Double Arch in Arches National Park during astronomical twilight, the darkest twilight stage.
The Milky Way rises above Dead Horse Point during astronomical twilight. Jupiter is just left of the Milky Way, and Saturn is just left of Jupiter.
St. George Museums
From dinosaurs to jet fighters, southwest Utah museums offer worlds of adventure
by ALLIE WISNIEWSKI and MATT MASICH
THERE IS NO shortage of outdoor adventure opportunities in the red rock country surrounding St. George. While many people come to the region to explore places like Zion National Park and Snow Canyon State Park, the St. George area is also home to a number of remarkable museums devoted to art, history and the natural world. Here are six of our favorite museums to explore in and around St. George.
Western Sky Aviation Warbirds Museum
4196 S. Airport Parkway
St. George (435) 669-0655
American fighter pilots in the Korean War had quite the shock when they first encountered North Korean and Chinese MiG-15 jet fighters in combat. While the Americans flew straight-winged P-80 Shooting Stars, the Soviet-designed MiG15s of their opponents had swept-back wings that gave them greater speed and maneuverability.
At the Western Sky Aviation Warbird Museum, visitors get an up-close look at a MiG-15 that was flown in the Korean War – and that still has the bullet holes to prove it. That’s just one of the military aircraft on display at the museum, located at the St. George Regional Airport.
The museum also has an A-37 Dragonfly, a ground support aircraft that saw service in Vietnam. In fact, the museum’s specimen was captured by the North Vietnamese, then recaptured by U.S. forces.
A BAC Jet Provost, a British jet-powered trainer for the Royal Air Force manufactured in 1965, is displayed at the Western Sky Aviation Warbirds Museum. Tour guide Bob Mikels dishes some fun aviation facts.
Joshua Hardin
JoshuaHardin
As far as the museum can tell, it is the only flyable A-37 in existence.
Retired U.S. Air Force Col. Jack Hunter, the museum’s founder and president, is particularly excited about a recent arrival to the collection: a four-engine C-54 Skymaster transport plane, built at the end of World War II. This type of plane was used in 1948-49 during the Berlin Airlift, when Allied forces dropped food and fuel to save the German city during a Soviet blockade. One of the C-54 pilots was Salt Lake City native Gail Halvorsen.
“He took a liking to the German kids, who didn’t have anything,” Hunter said. “He decided to drop candy out of the C-54 on parachutes for these kids.”
Halvorsen earned the nickname “the Candy Bomber.” By the end of the airlift, the candy operation dropped 23 tons of candy on 250,000 parachutes.
2
Rosenbruch World
Wildlife Museum
1835 S. Convention Center Drive St. George (435) 656-0033
These days, there are hundreds of nature documentaries at our fingertips, but they can only communicate so much about the real-life experience of being around animals – texture, size, scale and detail are lost to the limitations of the screen. That’s where the Rosenbruch World Wildlife Museum fills a gap in our relationship with nature, offering guests the chance to get up close and personal with majestic creatures from across the globe.
Visitors to the museum marvel at more than 300 taxidermy animals staged in exhibits that mimic their natural habitats, appearing as though they might come alive at any moment. An accompanying audio presentation accessible by mobile phone offers more information on each exhibit, as well as stories told by museum founder Jim Rosenbruch. Kids love the hands-on Interactive Children’s Gallery, where they can feel fur, horns and pelts, and simulate the great outdoors in a camping play area.
Visitors stroll through the exhibits at the Rosenbruch World Wildlife Museum, where more than 300 taxidermy animals –including the North American river otter – are staged in replicas of their native habitats.
Joshua Hardin
JoshuaHardin
Kimberly White, the museum’s gift shop specialist, is always delighted to give children’s tours, during which fun facts about animals often elicit enthusiastic reactions.
“Talking about the giraffe is my favorite, because they eat their own earwax,” White said. “You tell them they stick their tongue out and stick it in their ear and wiggle it around. The kids are all like, ‘Eewwwww!’ and you know they’re going to remember that and tell their families.”
The Rosenbruch describes itself as a library of nature, and its slogan, “We do not inherit the earth, we borrow it from our children,” is a testament to its commitment to both conservation and education.
guests ate most of it, but the couple saved the top tier as a keepsake, putting it on the mantel – where it stayed for the next 83 years, until their granddaughter donated the desiccated cake to the Hurricane Pioneer Museum.
Remarkably, the cake isn’t the museum’s only ancient edible. Sometime in the mid1940s, Hurricane resident Grace Wright Jepson put a slab of bacon in a sack to cure. Jepson died in 1958, and her family forgot all about the bacon. It wasn’t until 1996 that the family let the museum’s Executive Director Phyllis Lawson look around in the basement, where she found the bacon in its sack hanging on a nail. The family donated the bacon, which is now displayed in an exhibit.
The Hurricane Pioneer Museum is located inside the town’s old city hall and library building. Guide Kathleen Volker points out the case housing the museum’s famously well-preserved wedding cake from 1907.
Hurricane Pioneer Museum
35 State St. Hurricane (435) 635-3245
Joe Scow and Emily Wood had a multitiered wedding cake when they got married in Hurricane in 1907. They and their
Many people come to the museum for the cake and bacon, Lawson said, but they stay to hear the stories of the settlers who built Hurricane. The pioneers started by hand-digging the 7 ½-mile Hurricane Canal from the Virgin River to irrigate the parched land, a process that took more than a decade. By 1906, the canal was complete, and 11 founding families – among them Lawson’s grandmother –
came to settle Hurricane.
The canal was the lifeblood of Hurricane for much of the 20th century, but by the late 1980s, it had become obsolete thanks to new pressurized water pipes. Today, portions of the dry canal around Hurricane have been converted into hiking trails. However, aerial photos at the museum show what the canal looked like when still in operation.
JoshuaHardin
Joshua Hardin
St. George Children’s Museum
86 S. Main St.
St. George (435) 986-4000
A farm in the countryside, government offices that appear straight out of the U.S. Capitol building, a grocery store stocked with canned goods and the works – one would hardly believe so much of the world could fit in one building. With a motto like “discover, imagine, create,” guests of all ages know they can always expect a magical experience from the St. George Children’s Museum.
The museum stimulates all five senses, giving ample opportunity for hands-on exploration. Children flex creative muscles in the music and art rooms, learn about fossils and dinosaurs in the “prehistoric place,” and explore the depths of the sea in a model submarine. A rich variety of exhibits offers kids and their families the opportunity to immerse themselves in unstructured play – they’re limited only by the reaches of their own imaginations. The museum provides the canvas for fun and discovery, but it’s anything but blank, as each exhibit is beautifully designed to mimic both the real world and fantastical places.
Sonya Darter, museum’s executive director, says the emphasis on open-ended play is a big part of what makes the experience so impactful.
“When things are open-ended for children, they become much more engaged and develop their own imagination and approaches,” Darter said. “Even though it looks like a lot of fun and games, we are really teaching important life skills.”
The role of play is crucial in child development, she said. And by offering a vibrant and engaging place to play and meet friends, the museum creates a wonderful sense of community.
The museum opened in 2013, though its building dates back more than a century before that. Constructed of local red sandstone, the structure was completed in 1911 as the home of the Dixie Academy, the name of which still appears above the museum’s entrance.
The St. George Children’s Museum occupies the Dixie Academy’s former building. A child marvels at a plasma globe; the museum creates exhibits specifically designed to be experienced with all five senses.
St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site at Johnson Farm
2180 E. Riverside Drive St. George (435) 574-3466
In 2000, Sheldon Johnson was leveling a hill on his property when he happened upon what the museum calls a “paleontological jackpot”: dinosaur footprints preserved in stone and, eventually, thousands more fossils. This St. George area is the oldest Jurassic dinosaur site in Utah, and paleontologist Jim Kirkland even claims it’s “the best basal Jurassic track site in western North America.”
The Johnson family wanted to share their massive discovery with the public, so with the combined effort of scientists, local government and the Dinosaur Ah!Torium Foundation, the St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site at Johnson Farm opened its doors in 2005.
The dinosaur tracks were created 200 million years ago, when St. George was on the shoreline of ancient Lake Whitmore. This Jurassic ecosystem was home to a wide variety of dinosaurs, fish, crocodile-like reptiles and plant life. When the animals left their footprints on the muddy lake shore, the mud occasionally fossilized, leaving tracks so clear that sometimes the skin texture is readily apparent.
In addition to footprints and fossils, the museum has a 95-foot-long mural depict-
ing the shores of Lake Whitmore in the early Jurassic, as well as five colorful lifesize models of prehistoric animals. Video monitors throughout the building show short educational clips, and a timeline exhibit titled “Dawn of the Dinosaurs” puts other dinosaur sites around Washington County into chronological perspective.
Visitors at the St. George Discovery Site at Johnson Farm check out preserved dinosaur footprints. A replica of an early Jurassic Dilophosaurus is one of five life-size models of prehistoric animals at the museum.
Joshua Hardin
Joshua Hardin
St. George Art Museum
47 E. 200 North St. George (435) 627-4525
The St. George Art Museum is the home of the city’s permanent collection of more than 1,200 pieces of artwork. Of course, there’s not room to display them all simultaneously, so different selections are rotated in throughout the year.
In fact, the art on display in the museum’s three galleries is completely changed with each season, rewarding repeat visits to see what’s new. One gallery is always dedicated to pieces from the city’s permanent collection, while two galleries are reserved for traveling exhibits and showcases of individual artists’ work.
This winter, one gallery will feature landscape paintings by artist Gabriel Islas. In a larger gallery, the museum hosts its first Clay Invitational, which features sculpture and installation-based artwork from around a dozen regional artists. The exhibit is particularly near and dear to museum Manager Natalie Gula, who is
One might not initially suspect that the St. George Art Museum’s building was once a sugar beet warehouse. The free museum’s three galleries have completely new exhibits each season, rewarding repeat visits.
St. George Art Museum
St. George Art Museum
herself a ceramic artist whose work will be among that on display. Her large sculptural vases incorporate some of the blue clay found near St. George. Blue clay creates problems for local home construction, but it adds a new dimension to her ceramic work and connects it to the region.
The museum has ways to get local artists involved beyond its three main galleries. The gift shop is almost a gallery itself, featuring functional artistic items from creators in the St. George area. Each month, the museum hosts an art critique night for aspiring artists to bring in their work for a group evaluation. Attendees vote on their favorite piece of the night, and the winning artist is invited to display the artwork at the museum for the month.
Among the museum’s special events, a perennial favorite is Light the Night, a holiday celebration held Dec. 9, featuring an open house, arts and crafts for sale, a live chamber choir, and hot chocolate and cider.
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A colorful mural entitled “Hope and Unity” by artists Desi Mundo and Pancho Peskador adorns the exterior of the St. George Art Museum.
Chon Kit Leong/Alamy
Hung Liu, Mongolia’s Moon (detail), 2004 Hand-embellished print, 34.5 x 34.875 x 1.5 inches
For three beautiful autumn days in southern Utah, timeless mandolin melodies echo through scarlet sandstone canyons. The Moab Folk Festival celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. With an award-winning lineup of folk music legends young and old, this thoughtfully curated event in an inarguably epic desert setting is a uniquely Utah musical experience.
Festival Director Cassie Paup says it’s not easy to bring big names to locations as far off the beaten path as Moab, but that’s exactly what they’ve managed for this special anniversary weekend. Visitors can expect world-class performances from iconic bands like The Infamous Stringdusters, Molly Tuttle, Peter Rowan and more. Quality music in an intimate setting is one of the defining features of the event.
by ALLIE WISNIEWSKI
Paup said the festival staff’s round-theclock hard work is always worth it by Sunday afternoon, when she looks around at hundreds of happy concertgoers singing and swaying to the music. It is a heartwarming moment, she said, and reminds her that now, more than ever, music is an invaluable, unifying experience.
The festival is organized by the nonprofit Friends of the Moab Folk Festival, which promotes community building through multicultural folk music appreciation and education. The festival is the organization’s main income-generating event and provides funding for its yearround community programming, like school programs for kids, the Moab Folk Camp and a free concert series. (435) 2601756.
A talented lineup of folk musicians is on deck for the 20th anniversary of the Moab Folk Festival.
WHERE TO EAT THE BROKEN OAR
The Broken Oar invokes the spirit of an autumnal log cabin getaway, providing a quality American menu in a warm, rustic atmosphere. A Moab local favorite, they’re family owned and operated, and are known for their barbecue, burgers and, perhaps most of all, for their sweet potato fries. 53 W. 400 North. (435) 259-3127.
WHERE TO STAY DESERT HILLS BED & BREAKFAST
This cozy, old-fashioned B&B maintains the traditional, intimate spirit of a bed and breakfast with plenty of amenities for the traveler looking for a more personal lodging experience. Accommodations are clean and comfortable, with hosts Vic and Anna just a call or text away. Views are sweeping, the neighborhood is quiet, and downtown Moab is right down the road. 1989 Desert Hills Drive. (435) 259-3568.
Moab Folk Festival
FAMILY
THE NUTCRACKER
DEC. 2-24 • SALT LAKE CITY
The Nutcracker ballet is a beloved holiday production showcased every December by a plethora of dance companies around the world, but no one does it quite like Ballet West. The company’s founder, Willam Christensen, staged America’s first full-length production of the Nutcracker in San Francisco in 1944. When he moved to Utah, founding Ballet West in 1963, he took the production with him. With the exception of 2020, it’s been performed every year since its inception, making it the longest-running full-length Nutcracker in the country.
Adam Sklute has been Ballet West’s artistic director for the past 15 years. He says the production’s framework and most of the choreography is identical to Christensen’s original choreography, with the exception of modernized costumes and sets, as well as updated “Chinese” and “Arabian” choreography to reflect more accurately and respectfully the cultures they were originally based upon.
Sklute has had a special connection to The Nutcracker since he was a child – he was part of the original cast in legendary choreographer Robert Joffrey’s version of the ballet. He encourages everyone to come out and witness the magical production for themselves, regardless of their knowledge of or interest in ballet.
“You don’t need to know anything about dance to come to this ballet,” Sklute said. “It’s got great music, it’s got a fun and fanciful story, it’s got exciting and dynamic and athletic dancers to watch. It’s such a perfect family tradition.”
WHERE TO EAT LAKE EFFECT
Lake Effect has become a household name on the local scene, though it’s only been around since 2017. Stationed in the converted historic Hotel Victor, it strikes a rare balance between vintage and modern, offering guests a classy but not pretentious interior to enjoy excellent food and drinks, as well as local live music. 155 W. 200 South. (801) 532-2068.
WHERE TO STAY LITTLE AMERICA
Often overshadowed by its similarly titled cousin, Grand America, Little America serves up equal comfort and luxury in slightly smaller, cozier digs. Established in 1952, it has a long history of providing guests comfortable, upscale lodging with desirable perks like an indoor pool and hot tub, shops and from-scratch dining options. The ultra-central location is unbeatable. 500 S Main St. (801) 596-5700.
Ballet
West stages the nation’s longestrunning full length production of The Nutcracker .
events you may enjoy
NOVEMBER Other
Shred Fest
Nov. 5-6 • Salt Lake City
Skiers and snowboarders kick off the latest season of carving through the “greatest snow on earth” with Liberty Park’s Shred Fest. With headlining musical acts Hayden James and Jai Wolf, the tunes will be more than background music for the two-day rail jam, where up-and-coming skiers and snowboarders battle it out on real snow for real cash. shredfestival.com.
Acorn Antiques & Vintage Show
Nov. 5-7 • Ogden
For more than 30 years, over 60 vendors from across the country have gathered in Ogden to exhibit their vintage and antique wares for a weekend of treasures and oddities. This unique three-day event is always a blast – from the past. (801) 452-1911.
Kanab Polar Express
Nov. 28-Dec. 2 • Kanab
All aboard! The Polar Express train leaves on the hour and takes passengers straight to the North Pole, where kids and their families drink hot cocoa, participate in fun activities with Santa and his helpers, and leave their wish list with the big man. Pajamas encouraged. (435) 644-3696.
Utah Santa Run
Nov. 26 • Ogden
The Utah Santa Run is one surefire way to get a coveted spot on the nice list. This annual 5k has been a holiday tradition since 2008, complete with milk and cookie fuel stations, and, of course, hundreds of other Santas to run beside. Santa suits are included with registration. Santa Runs are also held in Provo and West Jordan in December. (801) 335-4940.
Luke Isley/Ballet West
Inspired by traditional German holiday markets, this event has festive food and entertainment.
CULTURE
CHRISTKINDLMARKT SLC
NOV. 30-DEC. 3 • SALT LAKE CITY
Guests might just happen upon the Ghost of Christmas Past at Christkindlmarkt SLC, strolling along charming wooden vendor booths reminiscent of Germany’s traditional Christmas markets. Allyson Chard was inspired by her time living in Frankfurt to bring a similar experience to her hometown of Salt Lake City, and she finally checked it off her bucket list in 2012. Exploding from 3,000 visitors in its first year to over 100,000 most recently, Christkindlmarkt SLC is a fan favorite for a reason. Thanks to the passion and dedication of Chard and 25 volunteers, every December the holiday market springs up
in picturesque This Is the Place Heritage Park, where guests can shop for unique gifts and products, try a variety of delicious foods and enjoy festive entertainment such as traditional alpenhorns, children’s choirs, a German yodeler and more. For Chard, the market’s magical sensory overload is what makes the experience so special.
The market’s mission is to bring joy, good will and a sense of unity to the Salt Lake area and beyond. Christkindlmarkt SLC is centered around service – the nonprofit organizing committee bringing the event to the community, and the community being instrumental in bringing the event to life.
This Is the Place Heritage Park
“All of us are volunteers,” Chard said. “We just want to do something that builds community rapport, which I think is so needed, especially in our world today. We can shed all of our differences and come together and celebrate.”
WHERE TO EAT THE DODO
The Dodo has been serving eclectic bistro fare in Salt Lake’s Sugar House neighborhood since 1981. It’s famous for its smoked turkey sandwich, but guests won’t go home disappointed by anything on this extensive, diverse menu. 1355 E. 2100 South. (801) 486-2473.
WHERE TO STAY HAMPTON INN & SUITES UNIVERSITY-FOOTHILL DRIVE
Guests won’t find anything closer to This Is the Place Heritage Park than this clean and comfy inn. The terrace and many of its rooms provide sweeping views of the Wasatch Range. 1345 Foothill Drive. (801) 583-3500.
DECEMBER
Fantasy at the Bay Holiday Lights
Nov. 25-Dec. 30 •
Willard
The only thing better than a seasonal light display is a seasonal light display against the backdrop of nature. Visitors at Willard Bay State Park can relish in this twinkly drivethru exhibit from the comfort of their warm cars – no parkas necessary. Just pop on some holiday carols and enjoy. (435) 734-9494.
Electric Light Parade
Dec. 3 • Park City
This year’s Electric Light Parade is sure to be dazzling as ever, as locals outfit their vehicles in near-blinding displays of holiday lights. The gorgeous, extravagantly decorated streets of downtown Park City are the perfect setting for the event – don’t forget to check out the many festive shops, galleries and restaurants in the area. (435) 658-9612.
Parade of Gingerbread Homes
Dec. 2-31 • Logan
Logan residents put their cookie creations on display for the 23rd annual ginger-
bread house contest. Visitors can stroll through downtown, admire lavish abodes made entirely of confectionery materials and even vote for their favorites. The top six homes win $100. (435) 374-8076.
TRIVIA ANSWERS
Page 14 University of Utah’s Old Main. Cove Fort served as a stagecoach stop. Page 15 Brigham Young’s Lion House. Walker Bank Building in Salt Lake City.
story by KERRY SOPER illustrations by JOSH TALBOT
Playing the Name Game
Utah parents sometimes get a tad too creative when naming their offspring
WHAT’S THE DEAL
with Utah parents giving their kids weird names? First, you have the moms who’ve made an art form out of mash-ups and alternative spellings: Camdryn, Brittlynn, Tynslee and Awstyn. I’m sure this tradition helps to support Utah’s scrapbooking industrial complex (and spices up the postings of our famous TikTok moms), but can we have a brief moment of silence for all of the kindergarten teachers out there who have to memorize the spellings of a new batch of Mackynzlies and Braeysuns each fall?
Second, you get the well-meaning Utah dads and moms who saddle their kid with the psychological baggage of being named after a legendary scripture hero – the Ammons, Nephis, Sariahs and Josephs of the state. May I suggest that large families also mix in a few Lamans, Lemuels or Gadiantons – just as a fun, long-term social experiment?
Finally, you have parents – like mine –who gave their child a gender ambiguous name like Taylor, Kennedy, Alex, Avery or Jordan. Why do they do this? Maybe they’re recycling a cherished family surname, the gender of the kid be darned, or they’re trying to appear open minded and progressive, as my mom claims? Whatever the motivation, it often results, as I can attest, in a childhood of low-grade hazing and an adulthood of awkward misunderstandings.
Most of the confusion I’ve experienced over the years with my gender ambiguous name (Kerry) has been fairly benign and often happens in correspondence, like when I first got hired at my university and received a series of persistent invitations from the Women’s Studies program, wondering why I wasn’t getting more involved. Occasionally, however, a mix-up occurs in a public setting where the potential for embarrassment is high.
In 2002, a few years after I started my career, I noticed a poster on campus for
a 5K road race: the annual Thanksgiving “Turkey Trot.” I had been a runner in high school – not a good one, but I thought I might as well sign up when I noticed that the top three finishers in each division won a frozen turkey. We felt a bit poor at the time, and I thought to myself, “I’ll bet I could win one of those; I mean, how many decent male faculty runners could there possibly be on campus?” I based this naïve assumption on a superficial impression of older colleagues in my own department who looked like they hadn’t exercised in decades.
I became so overly confident, in fact, that I made an offhand boast to my wife and three small kids at dinner that night: “Hey, I’m prob’ly gonna win a turkey in a race next week.” This excited my children, who were at that age where they still foolishly idolized their dad. They begged my wife to let them come to the race
and she reluctantly agreed, eyes rolling. I assured her with some defensiveness that the turkey was in the bag.
On the day of the race, though, I started to feel a bit anxious – probably because of how I’d inflated my kids’ expectations. When we got to the event, I kept hovering near the sign-in sheets, and for a long time it looked like there were only three male faculty members signed up: me and two older, slightly awkward-looking guys. Yes! I could have a terrible race and still win a turkey.
Minutes before the race started, however, disaster struck: An additional three or four male faculty showed up … I knew I was in trouble when one of them was wearing a Boston Marathon T-shirt and another was doing a weird stretch where somehow one of his legs was behind his head.
Sure enough, when the race started, I took off way too fast and my nerves
quickly got to me; at about the half mile mark, I hit a wall, slowed down to a painful trudge, and everyone started passing me. At one point, I was being passed by brisk walkers in everyday clothes.
Meanwhile, my poor kids had misunderstood and thought I was going to be the first-place winner of the entire race. You can imagine their disappointment when runner after runner crossed the finish line, and none of them were me. They kept asking, “Is that Daddy?? Is that Daddy??” After my wife said “No …” for the fiftieth time, they got bored and went off to play in the grass.
When I finally finished, I got last place in my division – seventh out of seven male faculty. Embarrassed, I went directly to the locker rooms, avoiding my kids and the dumb, turkey-themed award ceremony.
My wife hung around to watch, however, and this is what happened: All of the winners were announced, one by one, but there was still one turkey left over. The
officials, who were all students, put their heads together and came up with a plan: A female student took the microphone and announced loudly over the PA system, “Hey everyone, we have one more winner! We thought there were only two female faculty members in the race, but it looks like a third one accidentally signed up under the wrong division. And she got third place! Kerry Soper? Kerry Soper? Is she still here?!”
There was a slight lull as people craned their necks. My wife stood there frozen, looking straight ahead for a moment, and then stepped forward in her street clothes and accepted the turkey without explanation.
A few minutes later my kids wandered over and saw what she was holding. Amazed, they peppered her with questions: “What’s that mom?? Why do you have a turkey??” Not wanting to make a big scene, she mumbled under her breath, “Uh … your dad won a turkey;
they think he’s a female.”
At this point, I was emerging from the gym. My kids spotted me through the gradually dispersing crowds and began running toward me, screaming at the top of their lungs, “Daddy, you won! You won a turkey! They think you have a woman’s name!” I froze in my tracks for a moment, trying to process what I was hearing; when it made terrible sense, I quickly stepped behind a tree and pretended I didn’t know those weird kids.
Later that evening, when I asked my wife why she accepted the prize, she said, “Hey, you said you were going to win a turkey; I wasn’t about to ruin your dream.” It took about six months before we cooked that stupid bird. I eventually got tired of hearing my 9-year-old daughter giving tours of the downstairs deep freezer, sharing the story in detail with neighborhood kids like Stephlynn, Brytnee and Brigham. We ate the turkey unceremoniously on a random Sunday; it tasted bitter, like defeat.
