There was a chill in the air Saturday morning when we dragged ourselves out of bed. This time of year in Utah you never know what the temperature will be like…unless you look at a weather app. Dave had done this a couple of days prior so we knew we were in for a chilly day, possibly even snow in the evening.
Friends would be arriving soon to lead us away for a day of exploration. I had no intention of washing dishes at this hour making it necessary to purvey our morning sustenance elsewhere. So there we were, off in search of coffee and breakfast before the sun came up.
Said friends, Chad and Kristen, arrived two minutes after 8 am with Chad apologizing profusely for being late. He’s a very punctual individual who becomes bothered when life doesn’t run on planned schedules. It’s adorable.
He’d been wanting to take the Transcontinental Railroad National Back Country Byway (say that five times fast or even slowly) before winter set in. With not much time left before that happened, today was it. Sunrise was upon us lighting up the overhead clouds. Caffeine coursed through our systems. We were ready for a trip of undetermined time. Could be a few hours. Could be overnight. We really didn’t know.
The Byway begins at the north end of the Great Salt Lake, allowing us to enjoy a couple of nearby pre-trip detours. The first of these was to the ATK Rocket Garden. Yes, this is where they grow rockets. Or leave them after they’ve expired.
A rather interesting place but not intriguing enough to freeze my fingers off for. Since we wandered through quickly it appears I was not the only person feeling this way.
Our second detour was to the Spiral Jetty. Created in 1970 by Robert Smithson, the Jetty itself is an impressive earthwork sculpture at 1,500’ long by 15’ wide. Personally, my favorite part of visiting this area is the pink water one sees occupying this portion of the Great Salt Lake. The unusual color is due to a bacteria which flourishes here. The higher the salt levels the deeper the hue. The water was a bit too far of a walk for our friends this morning so they missed out on a truly beautiful sight.
The Spiral Jetty
Photo of the Great Salt Lake’s pink water from 2016
Photo of the Great Salt Lake’s pink water from 2016
Detours completed, we began the Transcontinental Railroad National Back Country Byway. The journey would take us from the north end of the Great Salt Lake to Wendover, Nevada. Not a long trip by interstate but backroads are a different beast. I have to give kudos to BLM for providing so many informational signs along the route.
I say this because a) we like learning about where we are and b) without the informational signs you would have no idea about where you were at or what was once there. This picture could have been taken anywhere along the way.
That said, this particular trip could have been a bit boring. Truthfully, parts of it were.
However, it invited some fascinating conversations as well. A few of the signs spoke of towns that had graced the now barren desert. If it wasn’t for the markers, you wouldn’t have known this. There were no buildings left, no foundations, no hint there was a human settlement here, if only for a brief period. The ghost towns had themselves, become ghosts.
By comparison, someone or some group had made an effort to preserve fragments of two cemeteries. Enclosed within silvered wooden fences or rusted metal, most headstones had all but vanished. A few plastic flowers were pushed into the ground on what must have been graves. Otherwise, the desert, assisted by vandals, had removed what remnants remained of the past.
I find the human need to remember and respect the dead to be endearing yet odd. Supposedly, more graveyards were once strewn along this route. Attempts at preservation can only be seen in these two though, even then, only small sections show any sign of care from years past. Did this unforgiving wasteland wipe away the rest of the engraved memories for those who did not survive? Or did the former settlers, in taking every useful thing possible, decide they needed every usable item around them, even those belonging to the deceased?
Philosophical conversations often go better with whiskey so I will move on.
This land may look flat but it isn’t. Small gullies, dips and occasional ravines can be seen if you take the time to explore enough. Wooden trestles, now in various states of decay, span these inconveniences providing a flat road for the trains of the past. No longer safe for any vehicle, they do make for great photos.
Eventually we left BLM land behind us. The roads became easier, while not paved, we were able to drive at faster speeds. Our final excursion was to find the Sun Tunnels, an art installation created by Nancy Holt between 1973 and 1976 in the Great Basin Desert of Utah. Conveniently it wasn’t too far off our path to Wendover.
The best explanation of what they are is found on their website. Art of this nature often requires the artist’s explanation to be fully appreciated. I fear my own thoughts on the matter would be less compelling.
Composed of four concrete cylinders that are 18 feet in length and 9 feet in diameter, Sun Tunnels is arranged in an open cross format and aligned to frame the sun on the horizon during the summer and winter solstices.….Each tunnel is perforated by a series of holes corresponding to stars in various constellations—Capricorn, Columba, Draco, and Perseus—so that shadows cast by the sun through these small apertures into each tube trace the earth’s rotation.
This sounds really cool. Unfortunately our visit did not coincide with a solstice or even during dawn or dusk on a sunny day when I believe this piece of art would instill a sense of awe. Instead our sky was overcast, increasing the grey dullness of the concrete. The experience was more underwhelming than inspiring. I did, however, appreciate how the cylinders create a telescope effect for photos.
More than nine hours after our early morning departure, we rolled into Wendover, the destination of our journey. Dusty, tired and hungry. It would take two more hours to return home (to no snow thankfully) along the vastly less exciting interstate. Leaving Wendover we were given one final yet beautiful scene to remember our day by.
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