We explore the science behind Utah’s epic snow in this photo essay of beautiful ski photography.
In a vault inside his museum-like Provo bookstore, Reid Moon tells the fascinating tales behind the rare artifacts in his collection. By Allie Wisniewski
Cowboys and scientists team up to raise cattle and study new ways to live lightly on the land.
A descendant of the Shoshone leader takes a road trip back in time to the tribe’s darkest day.
Scott Baxter
The power of powder
ANOTHER UTAH SKI season is in full swing, with skiers and snowboarders flocking to the state’s slopes to experience “the Greatest Snow on Earth.”
That phrase, which has appeared on license plates since 1985, is a registered trademark of the state of Utah – surviving a legal challenge from the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus that argued the slogan is too similar to their “greatest show on earth” trademark.
In our page 18 photo essay on skiing in Utah, we cover the history of the “greatest snow on earth” slogan, while also talking to University of Utah atmospheric science Professor Jim Steenburgh about the three factors that make Utah’s snow so well-suited to deep powder skiing.
Utah’s uniquely skiable snow drew a record 5,829,679 skier visits to the state’s 15 ski resorts last year. I have to confess, none of those visits were mine. And while I’m making confessions, here’s another: I have never been skiing in my life. But that’s not to say Utah skiing doesn’t have a special place in my heart – it most certainly does. In fact, I owe my very existence to Utah’s spectacular skiing.
My grandfather Karl Niermeyer grew up skiing in upstate New York. During World War II, he served in France as a combat infantry sergeant with the 66th Infantry Division. After the war ended, he was a member of the U.S. Army ski team.
Once he returned to civilian life, Grandpa Karl took advantage of the G.I. Bill and started studying engineering at the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology. However, he wouldn’t graduate from MIT. That’s because, early on in his studies there, he took a spring break ski trip to Alta Ski Area – and he loved it so much, he didn’t even bother returning to MIT to finish the school term.
Karl went on to enroll at the University of Utah, where he completed his engineering degree while skiing as much as possible. While a student at the U, he met a young woman named Carol Carmichael – a United airlines stewardess from Iowa –at a Christmas party in 1949. They fell deeply and instantly in love; by two days after Christmas, they were married – as good Catholics, they wanted to tie the knot before “something happened.”
On one of their first dates, my grandfather took my grandmother to Brighton to introduce her to skiing. On her first ride up the mountain on the T-bar, she fell off the lift and decided that was it for her. She never skied again. When it comes to skiing, at least, I take after my grandmother.
When I related my family’s skiing origin story to Ski Utah President and CEO Nathan Rafferty, he told me he has heard similar stories more times than he can keep track of. Whether Utah’s snow is the greatest on earth is a matter of debate – but there’s no denying it has the power to change lives.
MATT MASICH Editor editor@utahlifemag.com
February/January 2023
Volume 6, Number 1
PUBLISHER & EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Chris Amundson
ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER
Angela Amundson
EDITOR
Matt Masich
PHOTO EDITOR
Joshua Hardin
ADVERTISING SALES
Marilyn Koponen
DESIGN
Heidi Carcella, Madison Dupre, Open Look Creative Team
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DELIVERIES FROM OUR READERS
Hit the jackpot
I always enjoy reading Utah Life from cover to cover, but you hit the jackpot with Scott Baxter’s article “Around the Lake in Six Days,” (November/December 2022). Scott is just as great with word pictures as he is with photos. His statement about watching the wind and weather wasn’t too dynamic until he added, “like a zebra watches a lion.” Then I understood the importance of weather when kayaking on the Great Salt Lake.
The Hollow Mountain store story was also interesting (“Hanksville convenience store blasted 100 feet into ‘mountain’ ”). After watching a Near East documentary on ancient civilizations, I wondered why Utah sandstone wasn’t used more for homes and stores. Keep up the excellent work on articles and photos.
Keith Evans South Ogden
Many ‘wow’ moments
I really enjoy your three magazines and have been a subscriber to Utah Life and Colorado Life since their beginning, I think. And since my wife is a native of Columbus, Nebraska, and I grew up in Lincoln, we have been subscribers to Nebraska Life since we discovered it.
The November/December 2022 issue of Utah Life triggered many memories. I had made a number of trips to Utah with various groups of friends on houseboating adventures on Lake Powell and a general tour of the country covered by this latest issue. Arches National Park is a must see
for anyone who enjoys interesting geologic formations. And the “writings” left by the ancient ones have always been of interest to me.
But the memory that came to mind most strongly is probably when I finally (after 15-20 years of begging) got my wife to consent to go to that place of “just rocks and sand.” As I turned off of Interstate 70 onto Utah 128 heading to Moab, we had not gone very far into the canyon along the Colorado River when I heard “wow,” “wow,” “wow,” as I was driving. My wife could not have been more surprised. But she did get over her aversion to “just rocks and sand.”
After that trip, we made a number of excursions into this area. I even got her (and myself) up to Delicate Arch. By then, we were in our early 70s. We hiked to Landscape Arch on that trip as well. As a structural engineer, I am continually amazed that the arch is still standing. We had tried to do that trip the year before, but the night before we arrived in Moab, there was a large rainstorm in the area that had washed out trails and roads.
Thanks for all the work you and your staff put into making these magazines a must read for us.
Richard Conard Windsor, Colorado
Eagle aloft
Thank you for sharing Cindy Costa’s photograph of a bald eagle swooping down near a crow on Farmington Bay in the November/December 2022 of Utah Life
(“Monumental Exposure”). Cindy captured the penetrating focus of this eagle in all its intensity and majestic beauty. It reminded me of years ago when four Varsity Scouts and several leaders, including me, on a float trip down the Snake River sighted 14 bald eagles on July 4 near Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
All of these scouts are now grown, married and have moved out of our neighborhood and on with their lives. This amazing photo helped me to recapture an experience of unity and awe that we all felt on that warm summer day and will always remain with me. Thank you for publishing life-stimulating photographs.
Michael Shoemaker Magna
Rock art rocks
I was very interested in the recent Utah Life article “Etched in Stone,” (November/ December 2023). I have personally experienced the awe and fascination of being up close to many rock art sites, primarily in the Moab and Capitol Reef areas. As such, I now have hanging in my home a photograph of the Great Gallery that was captured with a 6x17 format camera by James Kay of Salt Lake City.
Walt Schierioth Colorado Springs, Colorado
Still learning
Seventy years in Utah and still loving and learning. Utah Life is one of two subscriptions I enjoy. I grew up on the shores of
the Great Salt Lake marsh. The photo of the eagles last month on Farmington Bay brings fond memories of my youth and life. Every issue throughout the seasons is a treat for me. Utah Life takes our family across the state to spectacular destinations and foods. Your articles, photos and poetry inspire us to relive our past journeys across Utah and make plans for new adventures in the months to come. Utah Life delivers.
Terry Thompson Centerville
Hoarding treasure
I first met Utah Life while sitting in a doctor’s office back when the magazine was new. It was an older issue, but I was so enthralled that I almost took it home. Instead, I took one of the subscription cards and promptly subscribed. The rest is an ongoing story of gifting family
members with this wonderful magazine. And they love it too!
What I like is the rich variety of subjects, from interesting letters to the editor, poetry, great main articles and sub-articles, recipes and even the advertisements. Best of all, though, is the photography and accompanying text. Wow, do I love all the gorgeous, fascinating photos. I read everything in the magazine and go back to enjoy the photos over and over.
I can’t throw these treasures away – and am going to sink the earth on this side with my ever-growing stack! Thank you, Utah Life, for bringing our beautiful state into even greater focus. Trips planned, sights enjoyed, exploration beyond what I thought I knew – it’s all openly shared through this magazine.
Carolyn Maughan Orem
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 Feb. 1. One lucky letter writer will be selected at random to win a free subscription renewal. This issue’s winner is Keith Evans of South Ogden. Congrats!
Send your “Letter to the Editor” by dashing off an email to editor@utahlifemag.com or pen us a letter and mail it to the address at the front of this magazine.
EDITORS’ CHOICE
PHOTOGRAPH BY WHIT
RICHARDSON
HOODOOS RESEMBLE a gathering army of goblins as they glow in the light of sunset at Goblin Valley State Park. Snow dusts the Henry Mountains in the distance on this cold, blustery February day.
Photographer Whit Richardson has returned to Goblin Valley over the years to photograph it in various seasons. In the hot summertime, the warmth of the red rock makes the viewer almost feel the heat. Yet there’s something about the light of wintertime that negates that warmth, letting the viewer almost feel the chill in the air.
Another big difference about photographing Goblin Valley in the winter is that there are far fewer people around to get into the shots. Richardson spent four hours wandering the park with few other visitors around as he looked for unique compositions. Just as he was preparing to depart, he came upon this grand scene and waited for the setting sun to light up the clouds and rake across the goblin horde.
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 R5 camera equipped with a Canon RF 24-105mm f/4 lens at 30mm, exposed at ISO 100, f/11 for 0.8 of a second.
Ice anglers hook ‘ugliest fish in the West’
by ALLIE WISNIEWSKI
Something smells fishy at Flaming Gorge Reservoir, and it’s not the thousands of burbot caught every year at the Burbot Bash ice fishing contest. Well, that might be a contributing factor, but the decline of the fishery at this massive body of water between Utah and Wyoming has been raising eyebrows among locals for years. Burbot, an invasive species of fish introduced to the reservoir illegally, have been disrupting the natural balance of the ecosystem.
Dubbed “the ugliest fish in the West,” anglers who compete in the annual Burbot Bash should have no qualms about plucking these pesky fish from the ice. Since the
Ryan Kelly/Flaming Gorge Chamber of Commerce
first contest in 2011, more than 39,000 burbot have been caught, making this unique event a true conservation triumph.
Over almost 48 hours throughout the weekend, more than a thousand participants spread out across the frozen lake, catching as many burbot as they can. This is serious business – at night teammates often rotate between sleeping and fishing, so as not to lose any precious time. After all, there’s up to $20,000 in cash and prizes on the line.
The average winning team catches about 200 fish, but anglers don’t have to be that prolific to have a chance at prize money. In the “tagged fish” category of the derby, hooking just one fish, if it happens to be tagged, can be worth more than $1,000.
Event co-director Ryan Kelly has seen it happen before: One year, the very last team to present their catch had just a singular burbot, but it happened to be worth $2,500.
“They weren’t even going to come check it in,” Kelly said. “They said, ‘There’s no way we’ll win!’ ”
The unpredictability and by-design “level playing field” of the competition is part of what makes it so much fun. Kelly says the event has amassed a sort of cult following, with avid fans of the event even planning their vacations around it.
With a cold winter in full swing, competition is projected to be fierce when this year’s bash is held on Jan. 27-29. More information can be found at burbotbash.com.
Ice anglers on frozen Flaming Gorge Reservoir catch burbot.
Ruins stand fast at Utah’s first ghost town
by MATT MASICH
Resembling a massive beehive, a stone kiln stands in the countryside 24 miles west of Cedar City. It is one of few remnants of the bygone Iron County community of Iron City. Abandoned after local iron production ceased in 1876, Iron City – now known as Old Irontown – holds the distinction of being the first modern Utah city to become a ghost town.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints made the first attempt to establish an iron industry in the area in 1851, but that effort ended before the decade was out. In 1868, the non-church-affiliated Union Iron Co. decided to give iron production in the area another go, founding Iron City.
Miners extracted iron ore nearby, then brought it to Iron City to smelt it in a furnace. The resulting pig iron was then further refined in the puddling furnace at the molding house, where workers created finished products like clothes irons. Two kilns were built to smolder stacks of pinyon and juniper to create the charcoal that fueled the furnaces.
By 1870, Iron City had 97 citizens living in 19 households. By the next year, the town had a post office, general store, brick schoolhouse, boarding house and butcher shop. Iron from Iron City was used to cast the dozen oxen supporting the baptismal font at the St. George Temple.
At its height, several hundred people lived in Iron City, but by the mid-1870s, the operation was in trouble. The high cost of shipping iron in wagons – there wasn’t yet a railroad in the area – made the venture unprofitable. The iron works closed in 1876. Within a few years, the town was abandoned.
Today, much of what is left of Iron City is preserved as a satellite park of Frontier Homestead State Park. There are restrooms and a picnic area, and the Discover Trail takes visitors past the remaining structures. Most impressive is the sole remaining kiln. Also standing tall is the chimney from the molding house’s puddling furnace. Further down the trail are the ruins of houses.
Last year, the state park oversaw restoration of the structures to ensure Utah’s first ghost town doesn’t disappear.
New regional magazine joins Utah Life family
THE PUBLISHER OF Utah Life has added a new title to its roster of regional magazines. In October, Utah Life parent company Flagship Publishing acquired Maui Nō Ka ‘Oi Magazine, a Hawaii-based print publication dedicated to exploring the life and culture of Maui.
Maui Nō Ka ‘Oi becomes the fourth magazine in the Flagship Publishing family, joining Utah Life, Colorado Life and Nebraska Life.
Flagship Publishing owners Chris and Angela Amundson began their journey as magazine publishers with the purchase of Nebraska Life in 2005. They subsequently founded Colorado Life in 2012 and launched Utah Life in 2018.
The addition of Maui Nō Ka ‘Oi springs from Flagship Publishing’s commitment to innovating its business while maintaining continuity in the presentation of its stories and photographs. There is also an opportunity for the existing magazines to gain from Maui Nō Ka ‘Oi’s experience.
Amundson noted that, despite their geographic distance, Utah and Hawaii share a cultural bond. Starting in 1872, Native Hawaiians became some of the earliest emigrants to settle Utah, thanks in large part to the strong presence of Utah-based Latter-day Saint missionaries in Hawaii.
Utah Life subscribers interested in subscribing to Maui Nō Ka ‘Oi can visit mauimagazine.net.
A crew stabilizes Old Irontown’s ruins. A stone kiln is one of the most striking structures.
Joshua Hardin
Joshua Hardin
Band proves Utah ‘jazz’ is not just basketball
by ALLIE WISNIEWSKI
Swing dancers fill the minimal standing room between candlelit tables at Lake Effect’s Rabbit Hole Lounge, a dim, downstairs venue reminiscent of a 1920s speakeasy. At this swanky burrow, every Wednesday just before 8 p.m., a line of people thirsty for gin and jazz snakes through the upstairs dining room, everyone waiting patiently to see Flamingo.
Looking toward the stage, the audience doesn’t see a pink bird but Jake Chamberlain, vocalist and frontman of Flamingo Jazz, singing the crowd favorite “I Lost My Sugar (in Salt Lake City).” He sings with his hands, gazing past the crowd through the bar’s exposed brick walls, as though visiting a faraway land of feeling and melody accessible only to him. The group both hypnotizes and electrifies, serenades and stimulates, their brand of jazz and blues a self-proclaimed “melting pot” of New Orleans, Havana and Miami flavors – diverse flavors that came together in Utah.
Flamingo’s six members are all lifelong musicians from across the West, coming together serendipitously after parting
with previous groups to forge a brandnew sound. Long before there was a weekly jazz night, there was a fresh idea germinating Chamberlain’s brain. What would happen if he took the soloist-studded standards of the New Orleans sound, added a singer, combined five excellent instrumentalists, sprinkled in some Latin stylings, and infused it all with his soul background, inspired by the likes of Stevie Wonder and the Temptations? As it turned out, Flamingo would happen.
“There’s a lot of jazz that you sit and you think,” Chamberlain said. “Our jazz – you sit and you smile. Or you stand and you dance. That’s what we wanted it to be.”
If it wasn’t already apparent, Flamingo aren’t your typical sextet. By their own definition, they’re sort of like a boy band, if a boy band played jazz – and also like a rock band, if a rock band played jazz. Before the show, the boys appear a motley crew, all sitting around a booth, each member brandishing his own personal style. But even when the lights go up and they’re moving as one, all wearing their showtime suits, there’s an unmistakable sense of novelty, authenticity, individuality that oozes from
the stage. Flamingo is banishing the widely held belief that jazz is reserved for an older, more serious crowd.
“We’re not Miles Davis,” Chamberlain laughed, “but we’re going to have a good time and play music people enjoy listening to.”
And enjoy listening they do. The band has only been around for about a year, but it’s quickly amassed a local cult following, often selling out its weekly residency at the Rabbit Hole. Their debut album, The Flamboyance, garnered inspiration from the dynamic and ever-evolving improvisations made possible by the opportunity to perform so regularly. Drummer Matt Morrison said these weekly gigs gave them a bigger canvas on which to continue their experimentation, ultimately birthing a deliciously accessible collection of tunes designed to inspire and uplift.
“We didn’t want the Utah Jazz to only be a sports team,” said saxophonist Kenny Fong. Definitively, Flamingo can consider that mission accomplished.
Flamingo consists of Jake Chamberlain (vocals), Kenny Fong (saxophone), Parker Andrezzi (trumpet), Matt Morrison (drums), Aidan Woodward (upright bass) and Christian Lucy (piano/organ). Their debut album The Flamboyance is streaming now on Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music.
The Salt Lake City sextet Flamingo Jazz play music combining New Orleans, Havana and Miami flavors. A favorite in their repertoire is “I Lost My Sugar (in Salt Lake City).”
Flamingo Jazz
Flamingo Jazz
Flamingo Jazz has developed a cult following for its often sold-out shows at Lake Effect’s Rabbit Hole Lounge.
Big John helps Helper tout its mining glory
Coal mining is a huge part of the heritage of the Carbon County town of Helper. The embodiment of that heritage is Big John, the 18-foot-tall statue of a coal miner located just down the street from the town’s Western Mining and Railroad Museum.
Big John is one of hundreds of larger-than-life figures made by International Fiberglass, a California fiberglass boat builder that branched out into making tall fiberglass advertising figures in the 1960s. The original model depicted Paul Bunyan holding an axe, but Helper modified it to a miner with a pickaxe.
The fiberglass figures were also popular with automotive businesses, many of which modified the giant men to hold a muffler, earning the sculptural goliaths the nickname “Muffler Men.” While there are nearly 200 Muffler Men still standing in the United States today, connoisseurs rate Big John as one of the most impressive.
Chris Amundson
UTAH COMPANIES
Test your knowledge of Beehive State businesses.
by BRIAN WANGSGARD
1 What company, whose name suggests its home is in Alaska, was started in Utah in 1995 by two brothers using their mother’s pancake recipe?
2 Introducing an application for a wide variety of computers and operating systems, what Utah County company led the word processing world in the 1980s?
3 Winchester, Colt and Remington are among firearms manufacturers who base designs on those of what Utah gunsmith whose company founded in Ogden in 1880 still operates, now in Morgan?
4 What restaurant chain founded in St. George featuring fast casual Mexican food, now headquartered
No peeking, answers on page 53.
in Salt Lake City, has more than 145 locations in 11 states?
5 What is the rest of the name for the Draper-based company 1-800_______ from whom users can buy a specific type of prescription products online?
Alamy
MULTIPLE CHOICE
6
Utahn Tom Dickson has demonstrated the ruggedness of his Blendtec blender by processing random objects like iPhones and hockey pucks on his popular YouTube videos called what?
a. Puree Power
b. Blending Anything
c. Will It Blend?
7 What nongovernment employer in Utah has more workers on its rolls than any other?
a. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
b. Intermountain Healthcare
c. Walmart
8 Autoliv, employing more than 1,700 workers to manufacture automotive airbags in its Ogden facility, is based in what country?
a. Netherlands
b. Finland
c. Sweden
9
Starting in the late 19th century, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints founded a series of companies to commercially process what product?
a. Sugar beets
b. Lumber
c. Hogs
10 Sinclair Oil Corp., headquartered in Salt Lake City and famous for its green dinosaur logo, also owned what Utah ski resort until March 2022?
a. Powder Mountain
b. Snowbasin
c. Brian Head
11
Adobe Inc. moved its headquarters from San Jose, California, to the highly praised campus in Lehi in 2012.
12
Kennecott Utah Copper, whose Bingham Canyon Mine is the largest man-made excavation in the world, is also the largest copper producer in the United States.
13
USANA Health Sciences, with headquarters and manufacturing facilities in West Valley City, is among the top 15 multilevel marketing companies in the world by revenue.
14
Lehi Roller Mills, which produced its first sack of flour in 1906, was featured in the popular 1984 movie Risky Business starring Tom Cruise.
15
The first location for the world’s second-largest restaurant chain opened in 1952 on State Street in Salt Lake City.
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THERE’S SNOW PLACE LIKE HOME
As Utahns flock to the state’s ski resorts, we investigate whether Utah truly has ‘the greatest snow on earth’
by MATT MASICH
Noah Wetzel
TOM KOROLOGOS needed to come up with a headline. As skiing editor of the Salt Lake Tribune, he had prepared a special insert for the newspaper’s Dec. 4, 1960, issue that promoted the upcoming Utah ski season. He wanted to distill everything that made skiing in Utah wonderful, special and unique into a single, catchy turn of phrase. And then it hit him: “The Greatest Snow on Earth.”
A play on the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus’ familiar “The Greatest Show on Earth” slogan, Korologos’ headline caught on quickly. Within two years, the Utah Travel Council was using “The Greatest Snow on Earth” as a tagline in its promotional materials. In 1985, the phrase began appearing on “Ski Utah!” license plates. A decade later, the U.S. Patent and Trademark office awarded the state of Utah a federal trademark on the slogan. Ringling Bros. brought a lawsuit to try to stop Utah from using the phrase, but a federal appeals court ruled in Utah’s favor.
While it has been proven in court that Utah may legally claim to have “The Greatest Snow on Earth,” the question remains: Is that claim true?
“Whether or not Utah snow is the
greatest snow on earth is in the eye of the beholder,” said Jim Steenburgh, professor of atmospheric science at the University of Utah. “There are no scientific tests for that.”
Steenburgh, author of the book Secrets of the Greatest Snow on Earth, is perhaps the leading authority on Utah snow. Even if there are no scientific tests to determine what makes snow here “the greatest,” he says there are three factors that make Utah snow uniquely well suited to deep powder skiing.
First, there is the sheer abundance of snow. Alta Ski Area, for instance, receives an average of more than 500 inches of snowfall each year. By comparison, Colorado’s famed Aspen Mountain averages 300 inches of snow each year.
Second, Utah gets a lot of what Steenburgh calls “Goldilocks storms.” To achieve true deep powder skiing, where skis float through soft, newly fallen snow, a storm must drop at least 10 inches of powder. But if the storm drops more than 20 inches, there is high risk of avalanches that could require resorts to shut down. Utah gets a lot of storms that fall in the “just right” zone of 10 to 20 inches. Once again using Alta as an example, Steenburgh says the resort averages about 18 storms of 10 or more inches annually.
Bryan Anderson
On opening page, Rachael Burks skis at Snowbird. On previous page, the Snowbird Tram runs in Little Cottonwood Canyon.
On this page, Retired X Games champ Jen Hudak cheers as her friend, French skier Anais Caradeux, catches air on the halfpipe at Park City.
Corey Kopischke
Noah Wetzel
On previous page, skier Lucy Sackbauer bundles up against the cold on a snowy day at Alta. At top, Alta celebrates the New Year with a torchlight parade and fireworks. At bottom, Powell Eastman goes backcountry skiing in deep, fresh powder in southern Utah.
Third, Utah snow tends to fall “rightside-up.” That means that storms tend to start out warmer, which produces wetter snow, then get colder and produce lighter, drier snow. This makes a heavy base with a lighter upper layer that is ideal for skiing. Storms that start out cold and dry but become warmer and wetter produce snow with a hard crust on top and soft powder underneath – not ideal skiing conditions. Having snow that’s “right-side-up” is more important than having the absolute driest snow, Steenburgh says. Still, Utah’s powder is lighter and drier compared to most places. At West Coast ski resorts in the Sierra Nevadas, the snow averages 12 percent water content, which can pack into hard “Sierra cement.” The 8.5 percent water content in Utah is less densely packed and fluffier, yet still has enough body to provide the perfect consistency for ski flotation. There are places with drier snow, but often there isn’t enough for deep powder skiing. It’s one thing to have great snow; it’s another thing to have great snow so close at hand. The access Utahns have to the state’s celebrated ski slopes makes this place like few others in the world, said Nathan Rafferty, president and CEO of ski industry trade group Ski Utah.
Noah Wetzel
Noah Wetzel
Piscotty/Utah Office of Tourism
“In so many places, you have to go really far to find the great skiing. It’s hard to get to,” Rafferty said. “Ours is so spectacularly easy to get to. Having this recreation so close is just amazing.” It’s only a 12-minute drive, he said, to get from the edge of suburban Salt Lake City to the nearest ski resort.
The variety to be found at Utah’s 15 ski resorts is another thing that sets the state apart.
“Skiing means different things to different people,” Rafferty said. “Alta might be some people’s favorite, while the Deer Valley experience might be somebody else’s favorite.” Whereas Alta is more rustic and in the vein of high alpine European ski areas, he said, Deer Valley is more luxury service oriented. “Both are tops in their categories, and they’re just 8 miles apart, as the crow flies.”
So, is skiing in Utah better than anywhere else? Do we truly have the greatest snow on earth? Perhaps it’s a subjective question with no definitive answer. Then again, would the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office have issued Utah the trademark if it weren’t true?
Marc
Bryan Anderson
On previous page at top, the Dreamcatcher Lift takes skiers up the slope at The Canyons at Park City. On previous page at bottom, skiers tote their gear at Alta. On this page, Sydney Ricketts sends a spray of powder flying at Alta.
Corey Kopischke
Professional skier Marcus Caston floats through untouched powder at
Snowbird.
Mike Schirf/Visit Salt Lake GREATEST SNOW 27
Bookstore owner Reid Moon inspects his display of bibles printed in each of the previous six centuries, starting with an example from 1482.
Moon’s Rare Books
Tales from the Vault
Reid Moon tells the stories behind the treasures at his museum-like Provo bookstore
By ALLIE WISNIEWSKI
ON A SATURDAY night
in the “private room” at
Moon’s Rare Books in Provo, poking at his phone among vaults of antique treasures, is proprietor, collector and storyteller Reid Moon. He’s an unassuming legend, wearing the simple wirerimmed glasses his digital army of fans knows him by.
Turning to show his phone’s screen, Moon points at the top comment on one of his numerous viral TikTok videos with a palpable sense of pride. “This is the side of BookTok I’ve been looking for,” it reads, referring to a video of Moon showcasing a second printing of Shakespeare’s complete works from 1632.
Scrolling through the comment section, where even celebrities like popstar Lizzo share their thoughts, other viewers thank him for preserving history, try to imagine the smell of his bookstore – which is enchanting – and marvel at the almost unbelievably excellent condition of the
Shakespeare book, which is currently worth more than $1 million.
Moon’s Rare Books is a museum disguised as a bookstore. That much is immediately clear upon stepping out of the contemporary shopping center it’s housed inside and into Moon’s carefully curated wonderland. Much of the floor is laid with French brick cobblestones dating back more than two centuries to the time of Marie Antoinette and Napoleon.
The store is a miniature Olde English village, where visitors can window shop through time, peeking into various themed display rooms holding books, artifacts and memorabilia from throughout history. In one room, Queen Victoria’s dressing gown. In another, a 400-year old Bible, or a letter to Dr. Seuss. Nothing at Moon’s Rare Books is ordinary. Behind every glass case is a puzzle piece that fits somehow into our great human story, and every day, Moon is working to fill in the gaps.
AN EMPLOYEE ENTERS the room to ask Moon about their earliest copy of A Christmas Carol available for purchase. He replies, matter-of-factly, that they have a first edition, but it might run a buyer up to $35,000.
Turning slyly, as if divulging a secret, Moon says, “There’s not another bookstore in the U.S. that has a first edition Christmas Carol. At any given time, we have first editions that aren’t available anywhere in the world except here. It shocks people that we’re in Provo.”
That’s true. Surprise bordering on disbelief is a common response to the caliber of his collection, amplified when it’s revealed that it is housed in Provo – a city that one TikTok user said they had to Google. Moon sees hundreds of TikTok comments along the lines of, “I wasn’t planning on ever going to Utah, but now I have to see this place.”
And now, with almost a million TikTok followers, nearly nine times the population of Provo, Moon’s Rare Books is getting more first-time visitors than ever, many citing his social media content as the catalyst for their stopping by.
Moon grew up in Dallas. His parents were bookshop owners, but he wasn’t initially inclined to follow in their footsteps. He made his first move to Utah after high school to attend Brigham Young University, where he changed majors four times before finally graduating in 1985. Afterwards, he sold insurance for a while, until finally he realized his true calling had always been books.
He returned to Dallas to open the very first Moon’s Rare Books, and it remained in operation for 25 years before once again Moon packed up for Utah. Having done ample business in Provo as he worked to build his collection, he figured it would be a convenient home base.
Perhaps, subconsciously, Moon had always planned to own a bookstore someday. He certainly wasn’t planning on becoming a social media star, but it happened all the same – now he’s getting recognized not only at book fairs but in breakfast buffet lines at out-of-state hotels. In his videos, he’ll usually share information about a particular book or artifact, give tours of his bookshop, or answer frequently asked questions.
The juxtaposition is interesting – displaying books of antiquity, often hundreds of years old, using modern technology that would be truly unimaginable to their authors. It turns out TikTok, the social media platform that has become synonymous with 2020s cyberspace, is a great way to connect the average contemporary human to the world of old. Thanks to its hyper-intuitive algorithm that uses artificial intelligence to predict users’ interests, people who might not have sought out information on first edition
J.R.R. Tolkien novels or Joseph Smith’s personal copy of the Book of Mormon will be brought face to face with it regardless, making literary enthusiasts out of everyday internet wanderers.
Moon’s artifacts have a broader appeal than one might assume, simply because the historical value coupled with the distinct uniqueness of each work is impossible to deny. Each book has a story, a path it traveled through time before it reached Moon’s (clean and dry) hands. But how does one amass a collection of such diversity and significance? Moon has been curating for more than 37 years, and the way
Allie Wisniewski
“When I wake up, I don’t know where I’ll end up. And at the end of the day, I’ve acquired some new treasures.”
At left, the shop has more than 100 books by Jane Austen. At right, the store’s floor is paved with 200-year-old brick cobblestones. Below, Moon’s is at The Shops at Riverwoods in Provo.
Moon’s Rare Books
Moon’s
Above, the Lord of the Rings trilogy features prominently. At left, on TikTok, Moon shows off miniature bibles printed from 1693 to 1894. At right, the children’s literature room is well stocked.
“Every book in here has to have a story. And that’s what you’ll see here tonight; that’s what people like –the books that have a story.”
Allie Wisniewski
Moon’s Rare Books
he talks about his acquisition process, it’s clear he doesn’t think of his job as work.
“Every day is different,” he says. “When I wake up, I don’t know where I’ll end up. And at the end of the day, I’ve acquired some new treasures.”
Moon tells people he has the best job ever – that he has yet to meet anyone he’d trade places with.
“I travel, I meet a variety of people, and then I get to share these stories with others.”
Moon is a seasoned professional by now, but he didn’t find his flow overnight. When he first started his business, he only sold new books. Slowly but surely, he introduced used books to the mix. It wasn’t
until 1999 that he really kicked things up a notch and added “rare” to the masthead.
The farther he waded into the quicksand of the antique book industry, the deeper he sank, learning the tricks of the trade as he attended his first auctions and book fairs, joined booksellers’ associations and developed relationships with dealers who learned quickly that Reid Moon wouldn’t settle for just any old book. Ten years ago, with momentum building, he sold his new and used bookshop to focus on his true passion: the rare stuff.
Choosing to niche down proved advantageous for Moon, who remembers witnessing the downfall of independent bookstores following the 2008 recession.
Well over 50 percent of all bookstores closed during that time, he said.
Another major challenge of the internet age, the No. 1 killer of the indie bookstore, is online shopping. Back when he was selling new books, people would often peruse his collection, then go home and order from Amazon. Now, however, he doesn’t face the same issue. Serious collectors know what they’re looking for, and they know where to find it – at Moon’s Rare Books.
IT’S NEARING 6 O’CLOCK. From behind a wooden door comes the dull chatter of excited voices. “Show and Tell” is about to begin. Moon stands up from his chair and clears his throat, anticipating
Allie Wisniewski
On display is a rare first edition of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
the momentary arrival of tonight’s guests.
“Due to our limited space, we can’t have everything,” he says. “Every book in here has to have a story. And that’s what you’ll see here tonight; that’s what people like –the books that have a story.”
Much is on display at Moon’s Rare Books, and Moon loves that visitors can get up close and personal with iconic works of literature and art. But the rarest, most valuable and fragile items, like a letter penned by Abraham Lincoln or a 4,000-year-old cuneiform tablet, are housed safely in temperature-controlled safes in the shop’s “private room,” a small office area turned storage and event space at the rear of the store.
The only occasions guests are lucky enough to see these treasures in the flesh are at the monthly Show and Tell evenings, during which Moon chooses certain books to showcase and even pulls items from his vast personal collection based on guests’ interests and suggestions. One could say, in these scenarios, Moon himself acts as the TikTok algorithm, generating content for his viewers using just one phrase or subject as guidance.
“I like to challenge the group: Name any person, place or thing from the past 500 years, and I’ll show you something in this room that relates to it,” he says. “I get
one degree of separation; I’m pretty hard to stump.”
This proves absolutely true, and for every guest’s prompt over the next hour, Moon generates a thematic book or artifact, seeming to conjure each near-perfect match out of thin air.
“F. Scott Fitzgerald!” someone calls out, and without a second thought, he retrieves a letter of gratitude Fitzgerald wrote to his nurse shortly before his death in 1940.
“Hemingway!” another guest yells. He points out a first edition copy of The Old Man and the Sea.
There’s oohing and aahing at a British first edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone signed by an 11-yearold Daniel Radcliffe, and gasps at a colorful, intricately illustrated, leather-bound copy of The Hobbit.
While Moon mulls over a suggested theme, the room seems to hold its breath, buzzing with silent anticipation as they wait to see what tale he’ll tell next. Nothing at Show and Tell is predictable, which, naturally, is what makes it so fun. Guests simply have no idea where his next rabbit hole might lead.
Moon is as talented as a storyteller as he is a curator. His tales are warm and accessible, and always told with humor, eliciting childlike laughter from his audience
with ease. His Show and Tell is a curated, elevated version of the namesake kindergarten activity, evoking the curious, easily fascinated inner child in all who attend.
Oral tradition is as ancient as humanity itself, and beyond the physical written word that Moon takes such care to preserve, he is also immortalizing what is unwritten. There is more to a book than what lies between its pages, and if anyone understands that, it’s Reid Moon. Moon’s Rare Books is more than a bookstore because it prioritizes telling the stories of the stories it purveys.
And the collection is still growing – every week, in fact. One might think a guy like Moon would be running out of books to track down, but according to him, the reality is quite the opposite. When asked what piece of historical literature he would choose if he could have any book in the world, Moon has a ready answer: the Rosetta Stone.
“It was so instrumental in unlocking the mysteries of the past,” Moon says. “That would be the type of thing I would want.”
While acquiring the Rosetta Stone is likely beyond the reach of even as skilled a collector as Moon, unlocking the mysteries of the past is something he already does – for bookstore patrons and TikTok followers alike – every single day.
Allie Wisniewski
20 - FEB 18
17 - APR 15 JUN 9 - JUL 11
4 - SEP 2
22 - OCT 21
17 - DEC 21
Made with Maple
A little maple syrup transforms dishes into something special
recipes and photographs by DANELLE
McCOLLUM
PANCAKES AND WAFFLES would be nothing without maple syrup, yet those breakfast staples aren’t the only things that benefit from the addition of maple. Something about maple makes it endlessly adaptable to a variety of contexts, both sweet and savory. In these recipes, maple makes roasted meat and veggies come alive with a warm and inviting flavor.
Maple Balsamic Roasted Asparagus with Cranberries and Feta
Fresh asparagus is tossed with balsamic vinegar and maple syrup, roasted until crisp and tender, then topped with feta cheese, dried cranberries and pumpkin seeds.
Line baking sheet with parchment paper or foil and spray with non-stick cooking spray. In small bowl, whisk together olive oil, balsamic vinegar and maple syrup. Arrange asparagus on prepared pan in single layer. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.
Drizzle with vinegar and syrup mixture and toss lightly to coat. Roast at 450° until crisp-tender, 7-10 minutes. Meanwhile, toss feta, cranberries and pumpkin seeds together in small bowl. Remove asparagus from oven and toss again to coat with balsamic mixture. Arrange on platter and sprinkle with feta and cranberry mixture. Serve immediately.
1 ½ lbs fresh asparagus, trimmed
1 tsp olive oil
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 Tbsp maple syrup
Salt and pepper, to taste
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
2 Tbsp dried cranberries
2 Tbsp roasted pumpkin seeds
Serves 4-6
Sweet and Spicy Maple Bacon Carrots
Baby carrots are roasted in a spicy maple glaze, then finished off with crispy, crumbled bacon and fresh parsley. You can use as little, or as much, of the cayenne pepper as you like, depending on how much spice you like.
Line large baking sheet with foil and spray with non-stick cooking spray.
Arrange carrots on baking sheet in single layer. In medium bowl, stir together maple syrup, brown sugar, olive oil, salt, pepper and cayenne.
Drizzle syrup mixture over carrots and toss to coat evenly. Roast at 425° for 25-30 minutes, or until carrots reach desired tenderness. Stir once halfway through cooking time. Remove carrots from oven and sprinkle with cooked, crumbled bacon and fresh parsley. Serve immediately.
2 lbs baby carrots
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
Pinch of cayenne pepper
6 slices cooked, crumbled bacon
2-3 Tbsp chopped fresh parsley
Serves 6
Maple Balsamic Roasted Chicken Sausage and Veggies
Chicken sausage, potatoes, carrots and Brussels sprouts are tossed with a sweet and savory maple balsamic glaze, then roasted to perfection in this easy sheet-pan meal. Broccoli and cauliflower are great substitutions for the Brussels sprouts, and almost any kind of potato will work in this dish.
Line large baking sheet with foil, then spray foil with non-stick cooking spray. Add sausage, Brussels sprouts, carrots, potatoes and onions to baking sheet in even layer. In small bowl, whisk together olive oil, balsamic vinegar, maple syrup, onion powder, garlic powder and oregano. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.
Drizzle vinegar and syrup mixture over sausage and vegetables, then toss to coat well. Bake at 425° for 15 minutes, then stir and bake for another 10-15 minutes, or until vegetables are tender and golden and sausage is cooked through. Garnish with fresh parsley, if desired.
12 oz chicken and apple sausage, cut into 2-inch slices
1/2 lbs Brussels sprouts, halved
1 ½ cups baby carrots
2 small sweet potatoes, cubed
3-4 Yukon gold potatoes, cubed
1 small red onion, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup real maple syrup
1/2 tsp onion powder
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp oregano
Salt and pepper, to taste
Fresh parsley, for garnish
Serves 6
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
THE LIST OF things to love about Utah is endless. In most issues, we give our poets a theme to write about. In this issue, the theme was “potpourri” – a colorful mix of whatever our poets found most poignant and beautiful about the state.
Lambing
Ellen Liebelt, South Jordan
The fresh fallen snow glistened in the moonlight, Stars twinkled clearly against a royal blue sky.
He walked to the sagging wooden stall
The snow crunched softly beneath his feet
With stiff gnarled hands he opened the gate. He could feel the aroma of straw and manure
She looked up gratefully with soft warm eyes.
A small curly wonder baying for some care
He gently laid her on a warm bed of hay
Where she could snuggle safely with her mother.
Angling
Susan Roche, Castle Valley
Porcupine Rim’s wavy red cliffs climb up the edge of our valley. The dirt lane to the base of the rim feels narrow, over-towered, steep.
But if you time this well you can walk up that lane while dusk rolls over you, and if you angle your gaze just right, you can watch the newest
sliver of the white moon glitter at the Rim’s top lip, as though it stays in place just for you, as though at this end of evening, the earth pauses
its rotation, so you can remember that the coming night sky will swallow all its navy blue, will roll itself inside out under the shine
of the sliced moon, giving way to each new morning’s slant of light, to every noon’s brave yellow gaze, to the fractured moon owning
its monthly fullness, and maybe even to your own angled self, less afraid on that day to come than you feel right now.
This Red Dirt
Greg Fugate, Denver, Colorado
This red dirt, ubiquitous earth of the Colorado Plateau.
This red dirt, grains of sand from the basement of time. Remnants of vast desert landscapes, eroded cliffs and cathedrals, and life long since vanished.
This red dirt, it is in my hands as I climb, my eyes when the wind blows, and my shoes as I hike. It coats my skin as I sleep on the ground under the stars.
This red dirt, it calls me to return again and again.
This red dirt has stained my soul.
Tad Bowman
Signals
Matthew Ivan Bennett, Midvale
Glints of frost on the fence as I pass by seem to signal in Morse code: “Good morning.”
Utah is Potpourri
Jim Garman, Richfield
There’s boating, whitewater rafting, water skiing too, also, breathtaking national parks for you to view. Big Rock Candy Mountain, Fish Lake and the Fremont Indian Park, beautiful scenery to view, so get there before it’s dark.
The Great Western Trail, Cathedral Valley, Kimberly ghost town, don’t be at the last one after the sun goes down. Explore Cove or Sergeant Mountain, or Monument Peak, mountain climbing there not meant for the weak.
There’s many temples, and it’s Butch Cassidy’s home, Off-road adventures, rock hounding, with room to roam. scuba diving, or attend every county fair, or just sleep in late, who’s going to care?
Celebrate the 4th and 24th of July, enjoy the beautiful fireworks in the sky. Drive all the byways, or visit Cove Fort, they’re quite interesting, per report.
Beekeeping, hunting jack rabbits, or do the spring cleaning, attend an open-air concert, visit family, or go jet skiing. Go camping, ride an ATV, or paddle a canoe, see a rodeo, a dairy farm, find a 4-H project to do.
Jeep rides, or camp at a state park, gaze at the beautiful stars after dark. Eat ice cream, or have a barbecue, just do nothing, or head for Hogle Zoo.
Run a 5K race, there are plenty around, or see what treasures are underground. There you have a list of 44 things to do, unless I miscounted, and there’s only 42.
Canyonlands Color
Mary Z. Young, Syracuse
A cerulean ceiling reigns above the majestic, sculptured earth
As day devoted to viewing vistas and vast expanses fades, mind and spirit invoke indelible images of variegated bands in sundrenched ochre, oxide, sand and sage ’twixt thermal tiers of lavender wisps
Striations, raked across a humbled canvas – my soul
WE INVITE YOU to submit poems inspired by Utah for future issues of Utah Life. The March/April theme is “Renewal,” with a deadline of Jan. 15; the May/June theme is “Utah Pets,” with a deadline of March 15. Visit utahlifemag.com/poetry-submission to submit your poems, or email to poetry@utahlifemag.com.
On previous page, Fiery Furnace is aglow at Arches National Park. Above, rock art at Fremont Indian State Park.
Utah State Parks
&CowboysScientists
At Canyonlands Research Center, ranchers and researchers team up to find better ways to use the land
By RACHEL FIXSEN
Cowboys herd cattle on the Dugout Ranch, a Nature Conservancy working ranch devoted to the scientific study of land management, near Canyonlands National Park's Needles District.
Lee Rentz/Alamy
ON A WINTERY November afternoon at the Dugout Ranch in southeast Utah’s Indian Creek Valley, the sky wasn’t sure whether it wanted to rain or snow. The moisture accentuated the fall colors: the bright yellow of leaves still covering the cottonwood trees; the minty green of sage and salt brush; the red-brown of the surrounding cliffs and buttes.
Despite the weather, Matt Redd was getting ready to move the cattle to the next grazing area. It’s an unusual herd: a combination of Red Angus, a breed commonly raised for beef, and Rarámuri Criollo, a breed from Mexico that researchers think might be key to more sustainable ranching in a changing climate.
Dugout Ranch is unusual, too. It’s owned by conservation organization The Nature Conservancy: The cows belong to TNC, and Matt and his wife, Kristen Redd, are TNC employees – not only ranchers, but managers of the Canyonlands Research Center, a facility that shares a campus with the ranch. Students and scientists use the center as a hub to conduct research on ecology.
The scientists of the Canyonlands Research Center team up with the cowboys of Dugout Ranch to look for ways humans can use Utah land without using it up. One research project studies how Criollo cattle interact with the land differently from traditional breeds like Angus.
Matt Redd and ranch foreman Cody Butler, wearing warm coats and brimmed hats, got on horseback to round up the cattle. Butler gathered up four that had strayed from the group, while Matt drove the main herd. Mother cows mooed for their calves as the group trotted across the rocky shrubland.
Criollos are descendants of the first cattle brought to the Americas by Spanish explorers as early as Columbus’ second voyage in 1493. Isolated for hundreds of years in remote regions of Mexico, they evolved unique characteristics that make them a viable alternative to conventional breeds. They’re lighter, meaning they have less impact on the landscape; they eat a greater variety of plants; they’re nimbler and wider ranging; and they will travel farther for water. All these things make
them well suited to living in a dry region that is getting drier.
The Criollos at Dugout Ranch wear radio tracking collars so researchers can learn more about how far they walk in a day and where they go. In another study, scientists are analyzing the cows’ fecal matter – cow-patties – to find out what plants they’re eating. “We want to make sure that what we’re being told about these animals is actually the truth,” Kristen said.
Researchers hope Criollos will turn out to be both lighter on the landscape and marketable in the existing commercial chain. If they are, the breed could help ranchers in the region adapt to a changing climate.
MATT REDD HAS lived at the Dugout Ranch for most of his life, and he is the third generation in his family to run cattle in Indian Creek. He remembers his childhood as idyllic in some ways, with a “backyard” full of stunning buttes and mysterious canyons – but it was also lonely. The family was 35 miles from the nearest town, Monticello. They didn’t have TV or even FM radio.
He first met Kristen while attending a boarding school in Salt Lake City, which is where she grew up. Though she lived in the city, the outdoors were part of her upbringing – she was raised skiing, hiking and camping.
Matt and Kristen were friendly but didn’t date. After graduation, Kristen took a trip to Indian Creek with some friends and stopped in at the ranch to say hello. She made a connection with Heidi Redd, Matt’s mom, who offered her a summer job moving irrigation wheels at the ranch. She accepted, and that’s when she and Matt started spending more time together. The joke, she said, is that she eventually got “promoted” from employee to family member.
In the 1990s, the Redd family still
A sign welcomes visitors to the Canyonlands Research Center at the Dugout Ranch, where red rock formations soar skyward. The land has a beauty similar to that of the nearby national park.
Stuart Ruckman/The Nature Conservancy
People participate in a planting event as part of a scientific study at the ranch.
Soil and rock samples collected at the ranch contain moss (Syntrichia caninervis), lichen (Psora decipiens, Squamarina lentigera and Toninia sedifolia) and lichenized fungi (Fulgensia bracteata).
A researcher conducts a study that aims to help predict the soil and ecosystem responses to alternative land management scenarios.
Lee Gelatt/The Nature Conservancy
The Nature Conservancy
The Nature Conservancy
Fabric tents on wooden platforms, furnished with cots, provide a comfortable place for scientists and technicians to stay while they’re working in the field. There’s also an outdoor kitchen covered by a pavilion, as well as a larger building with showers, a work area with coffee maker and microwave, and a conference room.
owned the ranch, but Heidi needed an investment partner to stay in business. However, every potential partner she met had development in mind. Heidi didn’t want to see the ranch turned into housing or golf courses; she found the solution with The Nature Conservancy, which bought the property in 1997. TNC’s mission is to conserve the lands and waters that sustain life.
Heidi continued ranching on the property for more than 15 additional years, and TNC added the research center in 2009. When Heidi retired in 2015, TNC hired Matt and Kristen as the new director and station manager of the Dugout Ranch and the research center.
When she’s not doing ranch work, Kristen takes care of the administrative side of the center. For Matt, every day is different, but it usually revolves around the cattle.
He gets up between 4 and 6 a.m., depending on the day’s tasks, and might be using a pickup truck, a tractor, a horse or a motorcycle. The ranch comprises 5,507 private acres and 350,000 acres of adjacent public grazing allotments, so there’s a lot of ground to cover.
Over the decades, the Redds have noticed conditions in the area change. Matt described longer and warmer summers. Cool-season native grasses are getting replaced by shrubs, which are more drought tolerant because they have deeper roots. After long periods of drought, dry soils become hydrophobic, meaning that instead of absorbing water they repel it. In turn, vegetation dies, and the soil is more vulnerable to washouts and erosion. When rain does come – and Matt said precipitation events have become more severe and erratic than they once were – floods can
incise creeks and scour swaths of land.
Raising Criollos may be one way for ranchers to adapt to these new conditions, but Matt and Kristen pointed out that ranching practices still have to fit within the parameters of the market.
Since Criollos are smaller than conventional breeds – topping out at 900 pounds compared to 1,300 pounds for Angus –they’re unlikely to meet the demand of large-scale meat processors, which, Matt said, control the prices of both live animals and processed beef.
So the Redds breed their Criollo cows with Red Angus bulls. The calves are sent to feedlots, where they’re “finished,” or fattened up, before being slaughtered and processed. The calves grow to be of similar size to Angus cattle. The supply chain is satisfied, while the rangeland still sees the benefit of smaller livestock.
THE CRIOLLO STUDY is just one of dozens of projects going on at the Canyonlands Research Center. Projects there examine a host of subjects: fungus, biocrust, cottonwood trees, flooding, restoration
The Nature Conservancy
Heidi Redd and her son Matt Redd take a break during branding in the corral at the Dugout Ranch. The Redd family sold the ranch to The Nature Conservancy, but they still work there: Matt is Canyonlands Research Center director and his wife, Kristen, is field station manager.
techniques, birds, bugs and more.
Nichole Barger was until recently the research director at the Canyonlands Research Center. She said the location is perfect for the purpose. The property borders the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park, which was used as grazing land before it became a national park in the 1960s. This gives researchers an easy way to study how land responds to the removal of livestock compared to land that’s still being grazed.
One project both Barger and the Redds are excited about is a summer educational program called NATURE, or Native American Tribes Upholding Restoration and Education. The seven-week program invites Indigenous college students to learn about ecology and land management both in the classroom and in the field at the research center.
Barger began doing research in the Four Corners region in 1998. At the time, she and other researchers in the area didn’t have a home base. She remembers that sometimes they would use facilities
in the Needles District of the national park – early mornings would dawn on a bunch of scientists in sleeping bags scattered in the rocks outside the residence. “The rangers would get annoyed with us,” she remembered.
Canyonlands Research Center gave them a home. There are fabric tents on wooden platforms, furnished with cots, where scientists and technicians can stay while they’re working in the field. There’s a kitchen, showers and internet. The campus bustles in the mornings and evenings with researchers leaving for and returning from their field projects.
IT’S NOT JUST the location that makes the Canyonlands Research Center unique, Barger said. TNC’s partnership with the Redd family enriches scientists’ work. Heidi Redd, who still lives on the ranch, has a keen interest in science, and she often comes out into the field to ask researchers about their work – and to share her decades of observations and experiences.
Heidi’s observations are incredibly important, Barger said. Heidi has always been a careful manager and paid attention to what’s going on in the environment. “If you’re going to be out there for multiple decades, you have to be a steward of the land,” Barger said. “You have to be a careful observer.”
Firsthand observations can complement quantitative measurements.
“Bringing those two different knowledge systems together is really powerful,” Barger said. “When you have different forms of knowledge, it speaks to different audiences – I think about these as different types of storytelling, whether it’s with data or experience with the land.”
Matt said Dugout Ranch doesn’t feel lonely to him anymore. It may be because he’s changed and prefers more solitude now, or it could be that technology has shrunk the world, and even in the most far-flung places, it’s hard to feel unplugged or removed. Or it could be that the ranch has developed so many partnerships and is part of TNC’s dedication to “a future where people and nature thrive” – a goal with universal relevance.
“People are dependent on these natural systems,” Matt said, “and will be as long as there are people.”
Tedd Wood/The Nature Conservancy
by ALLIE WISNIEWSKI
OUTDOORS
BIGFOOT SNOWSHOE FESTIVAL
JAN. 28 • MIDWAY
Celebrating its 15th year, the Bigfoot Snowshoe Festival at Wasatch Mountain State Park is a snowy showcase of athleticism like no other. Offering 5k, 10k, 15k, 25k, marathon and even 50k races, there’s something for all skill levels, with courses varying from mountain terrain to a groomed golf course loop.
Most would find running a marathon at all the ultimate test of human fitness, but add snowshoes and a mountain trail to the mix, and the feat borders on superhuman. For its first few years, it was the only snowshoe race offering marathon and 50k courses.
John Bozung, race director, knows a little something about marathons. He currently holds the world record for consecutive monthly marathons, having run a marathon every month for more than 26 and a half years straight. And if that wasn’t im-
pressive enough, for more than a year, he’s been doing it with stage 4 prostate cancer, running a whopping 19 races with a catheter in place. Bozung’s commitment to fitness, determination and self-improvement are the values he brings to his event.
Ten years ago, Bozung’s friend Enrique celebrated his very first marathon at the Snowshoe Festival. “Not many people can say their first marathon was on snowshoes,” Bozung laughed. Another year, one runner made the event his 100th marathon. Despite the race’s powerhouse regulars, Bozung encourages everyone to come out and give snowshoe running (or even walking) a try, regardless of experience. He says the average snowshoe stride isn’t all that different from regular running. “Just give yourself five or ten minutes,” he said. “You’ll get the hang of it.” (801) 808-4222.
Participants at this festival run anything from 5k
WHERE TO EAT THE BLUE BOAR INN & RESTAURANT
Right down the street from the race venue is this old-style European chateau, serving up breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner in cozy, mountain-inspired digs. It has frequently received awards for its fine European cuisine and romantic, candle-lit ambience. 1235 Warm Springs Road. (435) 654-1400.
WHERE TO STAY HOMESTEAD RESORT
After a chilly day running in the snow, warm up in Homestead Resort’s magical Homestead Crater, a geothermal spring hidden within a giant hunk of limestone rock. The hotel has been accommodating guests since the crater’s discovery in 1886, offering a warm, charming, classic atmosphere. 700 North Homestead Drive. (435) 654-1102.
John Bozung/Bigfoot Snowshoe Festival
FAMILY
KANAB BALLOONS AND TUNES ROUNDUP
FEB. 17-19 • KANAB
Bright and early at 7:30 a.m. on Friday, more than 40 hot air balloons launch into the morning sky, kicking off a festive weekend of balloons and tunes. On Main Street, guests spend the afternoon browsing the wares of a variety of vendors and enjoy live music from local bands. Evenings bring an enchanting Lantern Festival, a “Balloon Glow” and even more musical entertainment. Every day, there’s something new to explore, but the event’s namesake features remain constant.
This is the ninth year Kanab is hosting Balloons and Tunes, and it’s proved an inspiring venue for the sorts of activities it offers. Colorful balloons soar elegantly over majestic sandstone cliffs, a fantastic spectacle that pairs beautifully with the wide variety of bands providing its soundtrack.
There’s always the possibility of inclement weather, but this Southwestern shindig would never allow a bit of rain to spoil the fun. They’re prepared to host visitors no matter the conditions, with plenty of activities to keep everyone occupied. Kanab itself offers a variety of attractions, including red rock trails, slot canyons and forested hikes. It makes a perfect homebase for Utah adventure, so even when the
festival weekend is over, visitors are surrounded by five national monuments and two state parks.
WHERE TO EAT ROCKING V CAFE
Housed in Kanab’s original mercantile store from 1892, this historic restaurant was a pawn shop, ice cream parlor, post office and bank before it became the spunky cafe meets art gallery it is today. Some say it’s haunted, but that’s for guests to decide.
Count on a great meal either way. 97 W. Center St. (435) 644-8001.
WHERE TO STAY PARRY LODGE
The Parry Brothers founded this storied western lodge in 1931, and it’s still providing unmatched hospitality to visitors seeking the sublime beauty of southern Utah. The lodge has accommodated crews for more than 100 films, with guests including John Wayne, Gregory Peck, Frank Sinatra, Clint Eastwood and more. It’s even listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
89 E. Center St. (435) 644-2601.
Dozens of hot air balloons fill the sky above Kanab with color, while local bands fill the air with music.
Other events you may enjoy
JANUARY
Bluff Balloon Festival
Jan. 13-15 • Bluff
In southwestern Utah, the skies are reliably blue. Every year in January, however, visitors and residents alike gather to watch the desert sky fill up with every color imaginable as it’s decorated by a dazzling host of hot air balloons. Bluff is a gorgeous, inviting small town, located along the Trail of the Ancients Scenic Byway. (435) 587-2271.
Snowbird Women’s Camp
Jan. 20-22 • Snowbird
Geared toward intermediate and expert skiers, women attending Snowbird’s most popular ski camp have the unique opportunity to improve their technique, gain confidence and explore a variety of terrain and snow conditions, all while being instructed by some of the most experienced female ski coaches in the country. (801) 933-2222.
Bear Lake Monster Winterfest
Jan. 27-29 • Garden City
Held at Bear Lake State Park Marina and Sunrise Resort & Event Center, this is Bear Lake’s biggest winter event. The fest is a real hodgepodge of family friendly activities, including a 5k run, cardboard boat regatta, chili cookoff, local restaurant showcase, winter sports day and more. (435) 946-2197.
Moab Music Festival Winterlude
Jan. 27-Feb. 4 • Moab
The music doesn’t stop when the cold weather starts in Moab. During Winterlude, the Moab Music Festival partners with local schools and radio stations as well as solo artists and chamber groups to present public concerts and music workshops open to all ages and skill levels. (435) 259-7003.
Layne Naylor/Alamy
World-renowned organists play a
MUSIC
ECCLES ORGAN FESTIVAL
JAN. 8, FEB. 12, FEB. 24 • SALT LAKE CITY
In 1994, a brand new pipe organ was built for the Cathedral of the Madeleine in downtown Salt Lake City thanks to a generous contribution from the Eccles Foundation. It was agreed that the cathedral would offer a yearly organ concert series to showcase the beauty and splendor of the iconic instrument. This internationally recognized recital series, the Eccles Organ Festival, has been offering performances by the world’s most talented organists for almost 30 years, free of charge.
Gabriele Terrone, cathedral organist, oversees the festival. He notes that the festival has become a staple of Salt Lake’s classical music culture over the past three decades thanks to its many supporters and
donors. The festival has expanded to offer six recitals, while it began with just four. In addition to the concerts, the event includes master classes, public lectures and open gallery nights during which visitors can peek behind the scenes into the usually hidden gallery where the organist plays.
The Eccles Organ Festival evolves every year, but it’s always been free to the public. Interested parties who can’t attend in person can even watch the concerts from home via YouTube livestream. It’s clear Terrone is proud of the experience he’s worked hard to curate.
“It amazes me that we have been able to host the most renowned concert organists from all over the world right here in
Martha Feustel/Alamy
Utah,” he said. “We are very happy and blessed.” ecclesorganfestival.com.
WHERE TO EAT CAFFE MOLISE
Inspired by the cuisine of the Molise region of Italy, Caffe Molise focuses on regional specialties and local ingredients. It’s located conveniently downtown, so music lovers can stop by before an organ recital for a high quality, authentic Italian meal in the restaurant’s inviting dining room. 404 S. West Temple. (801) 364-8833.
WHERE TO STAY ELLERBECK BED & BREAKFAST
The Ellerbeck Mansion was built in 1892 and to this day houses pioneer-era collections of furniture, books and art pieces from the late 1800s. With a variety of themed rooms to choose from, guests can enjoy modern comforts amid antique furnishings. 140 North B St. E. (801) 903-3916.
FEBRUARY
Peking Acrobats
Feb. 2 • Ogden
The Peking Acrobats have been innovating the ancient art of Chinese acrobatics for more than 30 years, utilizing technology to take their awe-inspiring show to the next level. These athletes are internationally acclaimed, and audience members are wowed by balancing acts, contortion, tumbling and more. (801) 626-7015.
The Sleeping Beauty
Feb. 10 • Salt Lake City
The ballet version of this classic fairytale has been beloved for decades. This year, Ballet West is unveiling brand new sets painted by French artist Alain Vaes. The Sleeping Beauty’s classic score by Tchaikovsky of Nutcracker fame only seems to get better with time, as does the whimsical performance itself. (801) 869-6900.
Delta Snow Goose Festival
Feb. 24-25 • Delta
Attendees marvel at flocks of snow geese migrating through town at this festival. Visit the craft fair, shop snow goose merch and more. (435) 864-4316.
TRIVIA ANSWERS
on p 14-15
False.
largest. 13 True. More than $1 billion. 14 False. Footloose starring Kevin Bacon. 15 True. KFC in Harman’s Cafe.
Photographs
Page 14 Kennecott’s Bingham Canyon Mine. Blendtec’s blender has remarkable power. Page 15 The first KFC opened in Salt Lake City. Cafe Rio was founded in St. George.
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IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF
CHIEF SAGWITCH
Native and pioneer descendants remember the Bear River Massacre and its aftermath
By SCOTT BAXTER
THE FIRST GLIMMERS of the morning sun were in my eyes as I pulled into the neighborhood. Squinting at the group of houses that looked pretty similar, I drove to the driveway of the only house that had a tipi in the yard. Darren Parry, the great-great-great-grandson of Chief Sagwitch, came out the front door. Our objective for the day was simple: to increase our understanding of the past.
The drive allowed us time to talk, and
Darren shared his thoughts and feelings as he told me about his Northwestern Shoshone people, including Chief Sagwitch.
When Sagwitch was born, he was named Sagwip, meaning “mud puddle.” Shoshone children were not sent to schools to learn and conform – they were given latitude under the watchful eyes of the extended family. It allowed them to discover and develop their own unique strengths and gifts.
At the abandoned Northwestern Shoshone settlement of Washakie, Darren Parry, a descendant of Chief Sagwitch, looks out the window of the old church towards his great-grandparents’ house.
Scott Baxter
Sagwip developed two skill sets in his youth. One was the ability to select the right woods to make high quality bows and arrows and use them with amazing precision. The other was his ability as an orator and peacemaker, both within the tribe and with the white trappers and explorers who had started to enter the territory. It was the latter that would define him as an adult, and he was given the new name of Sagwitch, meaning “great orator.”
Darren and I talked about the chief and what made him great. We both agreed he had strong personal values. Those values included a belief in the goodness of people, a sense of stewardship for the land and a sense of hope for the future. His life would test those values, and he would remain true to all of them.
SAGWITCH BECAME THE chief of his band by his early 20s. The Northwestern Shoshone were nomadic hunters and gatherers who lived close to the land and moved through northern Utah with the seasons. They would also participate with closely related tribes in bison hunts and salmon fishing elsewhere, but they spent most of their time in northern Utah. The Northwestern Shoshone lived and loved a land that seemingly no one else wanted; they wanted nothing more, and they lived in relative peace.
In the chief’s early years, white explorers would pass through, and trade was positive and was mutually beneficial for everyone. Sagwip, at age 4, likely attended the 1826 rendezvous with his tribe in south Cache Valley. This was the second trapper rendezvous and came to define
Charles Roscoe Savage
Smithsonian National Postal Museum
A mural in the post office in Preston, Idaho, depicts the Bear River Massacre. Chief Sagwitch is seated beside his wife Beawoachee.
Sagwitch’s grandson Moroni Timbimboo, seen with his wife, Amy, became the first Latter-day Saint bishop in 1939. Northwestern Shoshones from Washakie encamp in a Logan park during a 1908 Pioneer Day celebration.
trapper rendezvous of the West. Fur trader Gen. William Henry Ashley came in with 300 pack mules loaded with supplies. The crowd was made up of more than 500 trappers and thousands of Native Americans.
Cache Valley was the breadbasket for the Northwestern Shoshone. It had plentiful grasses with seeds, wildlife, firewood and water. Times changed in the late 1850s, when whites started settling in the valley and not just moving through. As settlers, including my ancestors, introduced cattle and farming into the valley, it meant a loss of food for the Shoshone who could no longer adapt enough to survive. Conflict began between the Shoshone and the settlers. During this same time, warriors from a neighboring tribe killed some miners traveling through the area.
U.S. Army Col. Patrick Connor hoped that mining could attract enough prospectors to Utah to overthrow the control that Brigham Young, the leader of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, had on the territory. This was one of Connor’s greatest ambitions. The killing of the miners was likely the spark that led to the most horrific moments of Shoshone history, which was the focus of our first stop for the day, just 10 miles north of the Utah state line, along the Bear River in Idaho.
Looking down on the place along the Bear River where, on the cold morning of Jan. 29, 1863, the deadliest Native American massacre in U.S. history occurred, Darren started to teach me. He pointed to where the soldiers rode down over the bluff, where the tipis were situated and where the Indian ponies were corralled. He pointed to the steam rising from the hot springs at the edge of the river that concealed many of the hiding women and kept them from freezing in the icy water of the river.
Charles Kelly/J. Willard Marriott Digital Library J. Willard Marriott
Over the last several years, the Northwestern Shoshone have acquired much of the land where the Bear River Massacre occurred. Darren also pointed to the knoll where a visitor center will be built and where they will break ground for an amphitheater this year. You could tell as he talked that Darren could see the dark past as vividly as he could see a bright future.
THE SCENE OF the massacre was horrific. A young mother named Anzee-Chee had to drown her infant baby who started crying, so a hiding place in the river would not be detected. Sagwitch, with only a wound in his hand, was one of the handful of people who survived. Most of his family were killed; the ones that survived had bleak stories to tell.
His 2-year-old son, Beshup, wandered in a daze carrying a bowl of a mush made with pine nuts. He had been wounded
A stone monument stands near the site of the Bear River Massacre. Dedicated in 1932, the monument originally had a plaque riddled with historical inaccuracies, calling the massacre the “Battle of Bear River.” A new, more accurate plaque replaced the old one in 2021. Wikipedia
multiple times. Another son, Yeager, was told by his grandmother to lie still and act dead, saving his life. An older son, Soquitch, and his girlfriend tried to escape on a horse; Soquitch survived, but his girlfriend was shot.
Sagwitch found his infant daughter alive next to his dead wife and other lifeless children. With no survivors to nurse the infant, Sagwitch placed her in a cradle board and hung it in a tree hoping a pioneer family would find her and take her in. It worked – she lived to be an adult and was named Jane Hull.
Beshup would also be raised by a settler family. After the massacre, Sagwitch
went to meet with church leaders to acquire food and basic needs for his tribe. He left Beshup with a family member when he was gone. The family member lost patience with the young boy and traded him to a Mormon family for a bag of beans, a sheep, a sack of flour and a quilt.
Sagwitch was faced with another hard choice. He concluded the family could give Beshup the immediate help he needed and possibly a better life. Sagwitch became a close friend of the Mormon family, and the family became close friends with his people. Beshup became Frank Beshup Timbimboo Warner.
Looking south to the massacre site and to Utah, Darren Parry reads an interpretive sign at a memorial near Preston, Idaho. Parry ponders visions of the past and future while visiting Sagwitch’s grave near Washakie, where the cemetery is one of few remaining features. Many Shoshones, including Sagwitch, helped build the Logan Temple.
The victor writes the history and builds the monuments. Initially, the massacre was called a battle, and Col. Connor became Gen. Connor for his efforts. For years, a roadside marker has commemorated the “valiant” efforts of the “brave” soldiers who killed the “savage” Indians to protect the “peaceful” settlers. It probably accurately portrayed the event from the perspective of the soldiers and many of the settlers.
Just recently, another plaque has been added to the marker that starts with the words: “In memory of the estimated four hundred men, women and children of the Northwestern Shoshone Nation who were brutally massacred in this vicinity … .” Darren read the plaque with a smile. The story is grim, but it is finally being told, and people are learning of the Bear River Massacre.
FOR THE NEXT stop, we headed toward a valley to the west, again immersed in conversation. Darren and I come from somewhat different backgrounds. Darren is possibly the foremost living expert on the oral history of the Northwestern Shoshone. He lived the life and understands its heart and soul – things that I can only learn, he can feel.
I do have some connection to the Shoshone that goes beyond book
learning. I have lived in and explored Shoshone country my entire life. My great-great-grandfather was one of the early settlers in Cache Valley; his cabin still stands in present-day Wellsville.
Nick Wilson, a boy who lived near Grantsville who ran away with some Shoshones and became Chief Washakie’s adopted brother, was my great-great-grandmother’s brother. Many have read about his life in the book The White Indian Boy. Darren said he kept that book by his bed when he was young and loved reading it.
Darren has written his own book now, The Bear River Massacre: A Shoshone History. It includes his grandmother’s translation of the oral histories, as well as many of his own thoughts and experiences.
The federal government tried to force Sagwitch and his people onto a reservation in Idaho at Fort Hall. There is little doubt that their tribe’s identity would have been lost at Fort Hall, something Sagwitch understood clearly, and they would also be removed from their land. For Sagwitch, like all Shoshones, the land where he had lived his entire life was as much a part of him as his right arm.
With the coming of the railroad, Utah was rapidly changing, and in the middle of this change Sagwitch tried to find a future for his people. The boomtown of Corinne intrigued Sagwitch; the peo-
Scott Baxter
Scott Baxter
Joshua Hardin
ple there were very different than the Mormon communities. He was impressed by the hardworking Chinese.
Sagwitch had always been a friend to Brigham Young, having met with the pioneers just days after they arrived in Salt Lake Valley. Ultimately, he would accept an offer to allow the church to help his people learn agriculture. Compared to other leaders in the West, Brigham Young was mostly a friend to the native people, saying of them: “We are now their neighbors. We are on their lands which belong to them as much as any soil belonged to any man on the earth. We are drinking their water, using their fuel and timber, and raising our food on their ground.”
WE TOOK AN exit from Interstate 15 onto a farm road. Many people call themselves Saints. For Darren and his ancestors, George Washington Hill was a saint.
The interior of a traditional Northwestern Shoshone lodge is depicted in an exhibit at the American West Heritage Center in Wellsville. The living history museum explores the diverse cultures that shaped the Cache Valley and surrounding region from 1820 to 1920.
He took seriously his church assignment to help the Shoshones farm and made personal sacrifices the rest of his life to make it happen. After a few years of false starts and challenges, the Shoshones finally were placed on farmable church-owned land. While preparing raw land for farming one more time and digging by hand a canal more than 16 miles long, the Washakie farm began in 1880. Eventually, it would provide more than 300 jobs, and hundreds of Shoshones would live there. The Shoshone people developed both the skills of farming and animal husbandry. During World War II, many of the younger men enlisted in the armed forces, and many of
the older men took high paying jobs in the war factories in Ogden and Brigham City. This was the beginning of the end; the farm was sold in the 1970s.
Little remains of the original farm. Darren’s great-grandparents’ house and a church are the only remaining buildings; Darren has fond memories of both. The canal that was dug by hand is still used today. As Darren and I explored the farm, we talked about the time period. It was hard for his ancestors to understand how the whites could take the land from them. Other things they accepted. Darren thinks that if his people would have been exposed to agriculture earlier, like the Pahvants to
Joshua Hardin
the south, they would have adopted basic agricultural methods. Farming was not inconsistent with the culture.
Religion was another unifying influence with the whites. Darren told me there was nothing about the white man’s religion that was contrary to the beliefs of the Shoshones. The religion felt natural. The entire tribe was baptized, and they held church services in their native language. Chief Sagwitch and many other Shoshones helped in the construction of the Logan Temple. Yeager Timbimboo would be the first Native American to speak in the church’s general conference on April 6, 1926.
Darren thinks it was at baptism that Sagwitch adopted the surname Timbimboo. The name was somewhat prophetic: It means one who writes on rocks. Mae Timbimboo Parry, great-granddaughter of Sagwitch and Darren’s grandmother, was the one who captured and documented her people’s oral histories in English, writing them on paper – which was the rock of the future – so they could be preserved for future generations.
We stood at the graveside of Chief Sagwitch, not far from the farm. I think both of us were reflecting on what the great orator would tell us today as we stood by the grave. I think he would tell us to live as one. To cherish our likeness and celebrate our individual uniqueness. To honor the stewardship we have for the earth and all things that live on it and in the sky above it. To have gratitude for what we have and for those who made the trails we follow. He would also tell us to allow for everyone’s story to be told.
On the way back home, we drove through south Cache Valley, home to both of our ancestors. My family’s ranch has always been open access to the public. As we drove through the ranch, Darren commented that he had shot a wild turkey on one of the hillsides just a few years ago. Late that evening, Darren sent me some pictures. He was with his wife, Melody, and good friend Will Munger, riding horses in the pasture where he had shot the turkey. It was a change from childhood years; we spent the day with a cowboy playing Indian, and an Indian playing cowboy.
story by KERRY SOPER illustrations by JOSH TALBOT
Utah’s Curious Food Traditions
Are Jell-O salads and casseroles ready for prime time?
IWAS RECENTLY WATCHING
a TV series that celebrates our nation’s signature food traditions. In each episode they take on a different state, depicting in amber-hued, high-definition shots, scenes of photogenic young adults enjoying great barbecue in Texas, laughing over a New York-style pizza or licking their fingers at a crawfish boil in Louisiana.
Maybe I was just in a cynical mood, but I couldn’t help wonder: What the heck are they going to film when they get to Utah? A 10-minute montage of senior citizens eating Jell-O salad? Or maybe a slow motion shot of a heavy-set guy in a BYU T-shirt filling multiple sacrament-style cups with fry sauce?
I polled my friends and family, asking if they could think of a hip but overlooked culinary trend in Utah that would look good on TV. No luck. While our state can indeed lay claim to several distinctive food traditions that emerged in the 1970s and 1980s, none would look good in HD on an oversized screen. And most of them still haunt the Technicolor dreams, unfortunately, of many of us who grew up during those decades.
As a form of group therapy, allow me to take you on a slightly disturbing, but maybe cathartic, historical tour:
Crockpot Catastrophes: When I was a kid, every Utah kitchen featured one of these dreaded, olive-green slow-cookers, squatting malevolently on the counter-top, just waiting to destroy another meal. You could dump a bunch of random stuff into a single container, plug it in, then show up hours later and unveil a “meal” of sorts – something like “Smothered Hash,” “Ground Beef Stroganoff” or “Pioneer Goulash” – that you could then glop onto overcooked rice.
This cooking method was a disaster. The ingredients were essentially tortured into submission over a six-hour period, with flavors gradually destroyed and everything melded into a homogenous substance with a grayish-brown hue and
mushy texture. My least favorite meal to emerge from these devices was “Stuffed Green Peppers.” I’ll never forget the awful reveal, when my mom would lift the lid on two rows of slimy, grey-green peppers oozing a molten slurry of tomato sauce, corn, ground beef and Velveeta cheese –like a Utah version of those sinister, parasitical eggs from the movie Alien.
Casserole Casualties: A more respectable (but still often disastrous) cousin of the crockpot meal was the Utah casserole. These dishes could trace their history back
to pioneer times, when the contents probably included some genuine ingredients; by the 1970s, however, you never knew what kind of weirdness you were going to get when you plunged a serving spoon into one of these rectangular concoctions. The surface of the casserole might even look promising – crushed corn flakes, for example – but the innards were usually a mess. Most often it was a sloppy combination of a gluey carb, some kind of limp protein (maybe tuna fish or fatty chicken chunks), a sprinkling of canned peas or
undercooked onions and – worst of all –a base of tepid cream of mushroom soup.
My frugal dad was infamous for making casseroles out of random and often expired leftovers from the fridge, dumping them together indiscriminately, like a drunken Julia Child. Twice as a kid, he gave me food poisoning; once was the morning of our grade school’s annual field day. Thanks to his “breakfast casserole surprise,” I set a personal best in the “repeated dash to the bathroom” event.
Salad Setbacks: Any random configuration of cold ingredients in Utah during those decades could be called a “salad.” The ingredients were usually dumped from a can; the pairings were often a savory-sweet nightmare; and the base was either gelatin or Miracle Whip, Cool Whip or Reddi-Wip. (Sheesh, enough already with the “whips.”)
We chuckle now about the iconic Utah Jell-O salad with carrot shavings, but I’ve received reports of demented aunts who
filled their gelatin with much more disturbing debris: corn, diced onion, tuna, green beans, mushrooms, lima beans, cottage cheese and coconut shavings. My grandma’s go-to “dessert salad” was lime Jell-O riddled with mushy walnuts and a can of fruit cocktail in which all the various fruit chunks had the same flat taste and mealy texture – and then topped with a layer of mayo and grated cheddar cheese. Is it even possible to categorize that surreal dish on the food pyramid?
Mystery Meat Mishaps: Cheap, textureless meats were the craze in Utah in the ’70s and ’80s: Spam, corned beef, meat loafs, pressed hams and beanie-weenies (aka “Vienna Sausages”). I never saw or tasted real deli meat as a grade schooler; my packed lunch was always a floppy slice of bologna smeared with Miracle Whip, melded to a sad slice of American cheese and a limp piece of iceberg lettuce, and then smooshed between two pieces of soggy Wonder Bread. I was forever jeal-
ous of friends eating the school cafeteria’s overcooked corn dogs and stale fries.
My mother did occasionally redeem herself in the mystery meat department, however, sometimes making “smothered flat dogs” – a recipe with no nutritional value, but which appealed, visually, to a 7-year-old’s morbid sensibility. She cut the hot dogs lengthwise, splayed them open like patients in surgery, topped them with a smear of box-made mashed potatoes and then baked them in the oven with a squirt of ketchup and a blanket of half-melted cheese.
So it looks like the makers of that TV series are out of luck when they get to our state. That is, unless they want to do a different kind of show – maybe a grainy, black-and-white exposé on Utah’s unsolved food crimes? I’d appear as a witness on that program, as long as they hid my face, distorted my voice and gave me a chance beforehand to warn (and apologize to) my mom.
