at least the beer stayed cold

Come to the desert, they said.  It'll be dry and sunny, they said.

Our beer cartons got soggy

I'm putting together a post about our long holiday weekend in Moab but as you can see, it snowed.  A lot, for the area.  This is the coldest, wettest winter Moab has had in years, apparently.  Because of course it is.

hell on wheels

Mixing things up a little bit, we went MTBing at Round Valley on Saturday late morning.  The traffic into Park City was a bit heavier than usual, probably due in part to the Park City Kimball Arts Festival going on.  The trails were not at all crowded, however, and I was able to show off my mad skillz learned at MTB camp.  H said that I did seem to be descending faster than I have; I worked very hard at keeping my elbows out, shifting my weight correctly, and looking where I wanted to go.  I did manage to ride up one switchback in the Sweet Sixteen series that I have never been able to ride up before (one of the rocky ones) and I'm pretty sure I can do another one too, but my legs were tired so I had to put my foot down.  I'll get it next time.

Here's a completely ridiculous video of me for your entertainment.  I shouldn't be in such a granny gear for where we are but I'd just finished climbing my nemesis hill and hadn't shifted yet.  Yes, I am a total dork:

The reason we rode Saturday was because H wanted to go out to Miller Motorsports Park on Sunday to watch the AMA Pro Road Racing motorcycle races.  I can only handle about an hour and a half of really fast motorized vehicles driving in circles so I opted out and did my Catherine's Area loop.  H, however, watched four races: Harley-Davidson 8 laps/25 miles, SportBike 16 laps/50 miles, SuperBike 16 laps/50 miles and SuperSport 13 laps/40 miles.

These guys are absolutely nuts, driving nearly 200 m.p.h. and leaning waaaaaaay over on the turns so that their steel-plated knees and elbows often brush the asphalt.  Because they lean over so far, and because they're covered in steel plates, when they do crash, it's often just a slip and slide into the gravel.  H saw three crashes that afternoon, only one of which seemed to require medical attention, thank goodness.

I may not be able to appreciate motorcycle racing but I can appreciate the fact that Miller Motorsports Park is pretty scenic, centered in the Tooele Valley and surrounded by mountains.

west desert day

It was H's turn to pick what we did on our Labor Day holiday and he selected a part of Utah that we really hadn't explored: the nearby bits of the West Desert, west and south of the Oquirrh Mountains.  We started with a trip to the Camp Floyd/Stagecoach Inn State Park, located in tiny Fairfield (off Hwy 73). 

The Stagecoach Inn, built 1855

Camp Floyd was at one point the third largest city in Utah, when President Buchanan, fearing a Mormon rebellion, sent 3,500 federal troops to Utah to keep an eye on things.  Camp followers increased Camp Floyd's size to nearly 7,000 and the town (called by some "The Hell Hole of the West") was notorious for its many saloons and gambling halls, whores and gunslingers.  From 1860-1861, Fairfield was also a Pony Express stop and the Stagecoach Inn, built in 1855, was expanded when the town became an Overland Stage stop as well.  The inn still stands, now a museum.

Ophir's ghost town hall never gets direct sun,

that's why it's not bleached out

A little further north on UT-73 is the Ophir Canyon road.  Ophir was once a booming mining town - named after the biblical town where King Solomon's mines were found - but went bust as so many of them did.  It's not a total ghost town as there are several occupied residences up the beautiful, steep-walled little canyon, but there are many abandoned buildings and decrepit mining equipment lining the main street.  It's now a National Historic Site and we got out and walked around a bit.  High up above us on the north wall of the canyon you can see the old tracks leading out of a mine with a string of cars just abandoned there, rusting away.  Many of the buildings are in great condition, some restored and some just protected from the elements by the narrow canyon.  Ophir is cool.

Typical West Desert fenceline

Not ready to head home yet, we turned south on UT-36 and did a little loop on a dirt road in part of the Uinta National Forest, down by the Sheeprock Mountains.  Some might find this landscape sere and empty but we thought it was beautiful: wide golden and sage-green range land ringed by rolling mountains.  There was a slight breeze, stirring up random dust devils, and not a cloud to be seen anywhere.  We pulled over onto a side road and pulled out our camp chairs for a ham sandwich and PBR picnic; every pickup truck that rolled past us (pulling ATV-laden trailers and heading back after the long weekend) gave us a wave and a smile. 

We had to wash the truck

It really felt like we were in the absolute middle of nowhere and I bet the stars are spectacular at night.  It was so peaceful - couldn't hear a darn thing out there - and we resolved to get some camping equipment and go back out there.  I find it amazing that everywhere we go, the scenery is so different - the Wasatch front vs. the Uintas vs. the West Desert (vs. the southern redrock, although we haven't gone back down there since we moved) - and yet I just find all of it so striking and beautiful.