wheels on salt

You ever see The World's Fastest Indian, that movie where Anthony Hopkins plays an old Kiwi who schleps his Indian motorcycle from New Zealand to Utah to try to set a Speed Week land speed record on the Bonneville Salt Flats?  I saw it too but even better: H and I went out to the Bonneville Salt Flats for Speed Week ourselves.  We just did a day trip, which was plenty.  It's a long ride from SLC - over 100 miles each way - although 80W is straight and flat and there's really no traffic once you get west of Tooele.  And it's bloody hot out there on the salt, 90+ degrees with no shade and the glare reflecting off the bright white flats.  But the salt flats have a stark, otherworldly beauty that I'm really drawn to ... and dang, those cars and motorcycles are wild!

Stark and otherworldly - am I right?

We took a vacation day so we could go mid-week and the crowds were nonexistent.  We drove the little Subaru right out onto the salt, nabbing a parking place not far from the starting line.  There are three courses: the short course (4ish miles long), where the amateurs have to prove themselves; the combo course (5ish miles); and the long course (7+ miles, plus your vehicle has to go over 200 m.p.h. to even get on this course - it's where the big dogs run).

In 2006 on the BSF, this guy set a land

speed record of 323 m.p.h.

Despite the fact that all these people - mostly old, rich white guys, the only ones able to put the time and money necessary into these vehicles - are here to try to set records, whether personal or course or world, the atmosphere is really chill.  Spectators can stand right next to the vehicles at the starting line; you can walk up to the cars and 'cycles as they wait in line for their start; if someone needs a push or a part, there's always someone willing to help out.  People are friendly too, happy to answer questions from a couple of newbies.

This is Billy.  He would come within 2/10ths of a mile

of the record on this run - over 206 m.p.h.

We hung around the starting line for a couple hours, taking pictures, talking to folks, watching these crazy machines rush out of sight and over the horizon within seconds.  (By the way, the Bonneville Salt Flats is so big and flat that it's one of the few places on the planet where you can actually see the curve of the earth, so once the racers got out three miles, they disappeared from sight.)  We reapplied our SPF50 once, and donned long sleeved shirts and - miraculously - managed to not get sunburned.

Getting a push at the start

After a while we drove a couple of miles down the salt flats to where the pits were set up.  The pits stretch for three more miles along the race course (but back away from it so there's no danger).  We strolled about, looking at the crews working on their vehicles, and turning to watch every time a racer blew past the 2-mile marker.  We were soon able to tell who was fast - and it really wasn't worth watching if they weren't going at least 200 m.p.h., frankly.

The salt is really not that good for your Mad Max-ish Jaguar

These guys are nuts, going so fast, but they love what they do and they seem very supportive of each other.  They're pretty respectful of the salt too: I saw no trash strewn about anywhere; and at the starting line, most vehicles are pushed out by another non-racing vehicle until they come up to speed, in part so they don't spin their wheels and destroy the salt in their acceleration.  It's not something I want to do myself, and I'm not sure I need to go back to see it again anytime soon, but I'm sure glad we went to check it out.

bells canyon #2

Way back in April, H and I attempted Bells Canyon but turned around early due to icy and steep trail conditions.  I said then that we'd have to go back since we didn't make to either of the waterfalls or the reservoir way up at the top of the canyon.  On Sunday we went back and while we didn't attempt the reservoir, being further/steeper than we wanted to go, we did get to both the lower and the upper falls.

Upper falls

We parked at a different trailhead - the Granite Trailhead - and the initial ascent to the lower Bells Canyon reservoir was much less steep than taking the Boulders Trailhead as we'd done in April.  This was fine since the actual trail up Bells Canyon is very steep and rocky, called by many a "granite staircase."  The trail is mostly shaded, which was welcomed since we were working pretty hard, but there were breaks in the trees enough that we could see the awesome (in the original sense of the word) cliffs towering over us.

Snack spot, looking to Thunder Mtn.

At 1.7 miles we passed a spur trail leading to the lower falls, opting to continue to the upper falls first.  The trail got even steeper and fairly overgrown, but still followable.  The upper falls are at about 2.6 miles from the trailhead.  We continued up a little further and had a snack on a large granite slab where we could see out to the Great Salt Lake while behind us the canyon continued up to Thunder Mountain and the Bells Canyon reservoir.  At this point it was clear that there was no way we were going to attempt the reservoir, another 1+ miles and nearly 2,000 feet of elevation gain, plus at this point our guidebooks got very confused as to where the trail continuing up the canyon might be.

Lower falls

On the descent we somehow got off the trail we'd come up, following game trails or spur trails for a bit, but rejoined the main trail somewhere below the upper falls.  We had remembered to bring our hiking poles with us this time and were particularly grateful for them on this trail.  As we went down, we spied a couple of rock climbers on the Bell Towers - those guys are nuts, clinging to the cliffs like that.  When we got to the trail junction, we went down to the lower falls which are larger and more easily seen than the upper falls, and pretty darn spectacular.  It was getting hot at this point too and the spray from the cascade felt too good to want to leave.

the Bell Towers

But leave we did, H draining his Camelbak on the long, hot run out.  I'm glad we went back to Bells Canyon, something that had been in the back of my mind since the spring.  Now I can cross that one off the list.

not quite the fairest of them all

Back east H and I used to hit one or two fairs each year, usually the Cumberland County Fair, because it was practically next door to us, and the granddaddy of them all, the Fryeburg Fair.  We'd wander for hours, skipping the carnival rides but in and out of every barn with me patting every animal I could get my hands on, poking around the farm equipment, cheering from the stands during the draft horse and oxen pulling, and eating. Love the fair food: kettle corn, Italian sausages, Beale St. BBQ chopped brisket sandwiches (only available at the fairs), fried dough.  Mm-mm!

It's been Fair Season out here in Utah for a while now.  We missed the Tooele and Heber County fairs but decided to give our new home county a go.  The Salt Lake County Fair ran from August 11-14 out at the South Jordan Equestrian Park (2100 W 11400 S).  The day's program seemed packed with a 4H livestock auction, horce racing, pig racing, fiddlers, horse pulling, equestrian vaulting, cake decorating contests, clogging grandmothers and a Dutch oven cook-off, to name just a few.

The fair opened at 11:00 a.m..  We got there sometime after 1:00 p.m., paid $7 for parking/admission, and left not long after 2:00 p.m.  Folks, the SLCo Fair is TINY.  Smaller than the Cumberland Fair by a looooong shot.  There were hardly any animals, about eight food booths, some lady selling henna tattoos, a few carnivals games and kiddie rides, and a petting zoo (with a 1-year old camel!).  And that was about it.  I was shocked.  I really thought it would have been a bigger fair.  We did a lap around everything and called it good.  H thinks that maybe a more rural county might have a better fair - like Heber, which I'm game to try next year - and we're determined to go to the Utah State Fair in September ... but now my expectations are much, much lower for that one.  If it measures up to Fryeburg, I'll be happy.

So what did we do with the rest of our Saturday?  H got on his bike, I did some weeding and at 6:00 p.m. we went up to Snowbird for their final Cool Air Concert of the season, the Nate Robinson Trio.  What a lovely evening: sitting on the deck with a mellow crowd, drinking our own PBRs (coolers are allowed), watching the sun go down behind the mountains and listening to a decent local band play reggae.  A stop in at the Lone Star Taqueria for carne asado tacos and a chile verde burrito capped off what turned out to be a very nice day, meager fair-going notwithstanding.

buying and eating local

Once late spring/early summer hits, little roadside farm stands pop up all over the place, much like the sno-cone shacks.  The difference is, the farm stands are loaded with melons, raspberries, blackberries, apricots, peaches, corns, cucumbers and tomatoes - all locally grown.  Much seems to be from Brigham City and Springville, but "Green River melons" are touted as well. 

They close pretty early in the evenings so I haven't been able to catch one open until this past Friday.  The friendly girl helped me pick out a deliciously-scented cantelope, some green beans and some sweet corn.  The beans were a little bigger and tougher-looking than the Maine string beans I'm used to, but a little longer in the steam basket rendered them quite tasty.  The corn I plopped on the grill and served Mexican style: with mayonnaise, cheese (I used parmesan) and a dash of ground chile pepper (I used merquen). 

I think I have to say it: Utah sweet corn is not as good as Maine sweet corn.  Now, I don't know how old this corn was - it was a little starchy - and I'm going to try again at another stand for comparison's sake. It's a tall order, I know, trying to beat Maine sweet corn and I want to give it a fair shake before calling it for good.  But as it stands now in the corn on the cob competition: Maine 1, Utah 0.

The tomatoes are from my own plants

the hills are alive

Last Sunday.  Still with the monsoon season but we decided that if we did a shortish and familiar hike early in the day, that would probably still be safe.  Plus Captain Mike had urged us to get our butts up to Albion Basin before all the wildflowers went past, so off to Alta we went.

Pretty!

It was sunny but cool and pleasant (high 60s) up there, and very busy, because clearly other folks were getting their butts up to Albion Basin to see the wildflowers.  We hiked up the trail across some of the ski trails, through both woods and meadows.  It was a lot drier than when we'd been there last, a month ago, but the flowers were certainly out in full force.  It's nearly indescribable, and our photos don't do the scenery justice, but the meadows and creek beds are just bursting with blossoms of all colors.  We even spied a happy hummingbird zooming around the flowers, happy as a fat man at a buffet.

I would call this a "high grotto" more than "high desert"

In addition to being Wildflower Central, it was also Small Mammal Day.  Up at Cecret Lake (the water level has dropped several feet from a month ago, and all the snow is gone from the lake basin although there is still some up in Devil's Castle), we were treated to the company of a very brave chipmunk - glossy-furred and more than twice as big as the chipmunks we've seen previously - who pounced upon a sunflower seed that spilled from the packet when we opened it. 

Not even a little bit afraid

There were other rodents all over the place, ground squirrels and red squirrels and a tiny grey chipmunk, some other species, I guess. And on our way down, we were lucky enough to spot this sleek little guy: an ermine in his summer outfit.

Isn't he adorable?  His tail had a little black tip

frozen treats

On our way west to the Kennecott mine, I mentioned to H (possibly only one or twice but probably more like 3-4 times) that I wanted to get a shaved ice/sno-cone.  Those little stands are all over the valley in shopping plaza parking lots and every time I drive by one I think, "Gosh, I really want to try one of those."  So suddenly H turns into a car wash, pulls up next to a Willly's Shaved Ice and goes, "Go on.  Go get one."

I hop out and peruse the list of flavors, finally asking the girl behind the counter for a recommendation since I've never had one of these before.  And this is part of what I love about Utah: almost everyone is so nice and friendly.  Back east, the ice cream server would be like, um try grape or cherry or whatever, $2.00.  But this girl got a huge smile on her face, and wanted to know where I was from if I'd never had a "snowie" before, and what was Maine like, and hadn't I been buying like tons of lotion and conditioner since it's so dry out here.  Supercute. 

She also told me that "tiger's blood" is the go-to shaved ice flavor: watermelon + strawberry + coconut.  I'm certainly not one to disagree with a professional so tiger's blood is what I got. A $2 medium was huge and a bright gory red that quickly stained my tongue.  H rolled his eyes so hard when I got back in the truck with my treat that I think he saw the back of his skull, but I didn't care.  It was a little sweet (I think I'll try a tart flavor next time) but the shaved ice was soft and the straw had a little scoop on the end so I could spoon up the goodness if I didn't want to wait for it to melt.

You might think that's enough frozen concoctions for one day, but no.  As we headed east again after Butterfield Canyon, we consulted our talking GPS for the closest Leatherby's Family Creamery, an ice cream place that one of H's coworkers had recommended.  We found one at 1872 W 5400 S in Taylorsville.  Although it was closing in on 6:00 p.m., we ignored the actual food side of the menu and focused on the ice cream sundaes.  H ordered a "black and white" with chocolate ice cream and chocolate and marshmallow sauces; I ordered one with chocolate chip ice cream, chocolate chocolate chip ice cream, chocolate sauce and malted whipped cream. 

Good grief: these sundaes were ENORMOUS.  Next time, remind me to order a little bitty one.  H's was really good and while I didn't much care for the regular choc. chip ice cream, I did think the choc. choc. chip was very good.  By the time I finished - and I did finish, calories be damned - I was shivering and shaking, the vast quantity of ice cream that I had consumed having actually lowered my body temperature.  Needless to say, we had to just sit for a while once we got back home (ice cream coma) and we did not find it necessay to eat dinner that night.

kennecott country

We're in the middle of monsoon season currently and what with the imminent threat of afternoon thunder (and lightning) storms, have been less motivated to get up and hiking deep into the mountains.  So we got a slow start on Saturday, by which I mean H took a 36 mile bike ride while I weeded for two hours.  After that we needed something to do since you can't just stay home on a Saturday.  We eyed the accumulating clouds and decided that this would be a good day to go west a little bit, to see the hugenormous Kennecott Copper Mine that sprawls across the eastern slopes of the Oquirrh Mountains, and then also to try to find a route over the Oquirrhs.

Kennecut Utah Copper's Bingham Canyon Mine is one of the largest man-made objects on the planet - it can be seen from space by the space shuttle astronauts. The open pit is 2.75 miles across at the top and 3/4 of a mile deep; the giant haul trucks, with their 13-foot high tires and their 320 ton haulage capacity, are smaller than Matchbox cars as they lumber down the winding roads to the bottom of the pit. Since its beginning in 1906, this mine has produced 18.1 million tons of copper, more than any other mine in history.

Where's AAA when you need them?

The busy visitors' center at the mine is open 7 days/week, from 8 a.m. - 8 p.m. ($5 entry fee per car, all proceeds donated to charity). Perched at the lip of the pit, you can watch the mining activity below as well as stroll through the exhibits inside the center. The wind was howling (as the afternoon's monsoon was moving in from the west) as we stared down into the giant hole in the ground - reminding me of the pit mine from that Stephen King book, Desperation, where the mining company digs too deep and unleashes some horrific beastie. It is way far down to the bottom and they plan to be another 500 feet further down by 2015. Watch out for horrific beasties, boys.

That's a helluva hole in the ground

The Bingham Canyon mine is right around the corner from Butterfield Canyon which, according to our gazetteer, has a paved road (and then a dirt road and then a paved road again) that actually crosses the Oquirrh range - and might possibly be the only way across the Oquirrh range - to Tooele on the other side.  The road is only open in the summer so we thought we should give it a shot.  We went up and up as the road got narrower and narrower and the weather got darker and stormier. 

Road to nowhere.  Truly.

When the pavement ended, we had a choice: up and to the right on the drier, more travelled road*, or down and to the left on the muddier road.  We picked up and to the right, following a black Jeep who looked like he knew where he was going.  We picked wrong: the dirt road stopped at the very top of the mountain (about 9,000 feet and with a temperature of 49F) at an impressive overlook of the mine, but did not in fact go through to Tooele.  We turned around and headed back down as the rain picked up, pausing to look at the down-and-to-the-left option.  It was slick and muddy looking and we decided to leave that exploration for another non-monsoony day.

All the better to hear you with, my deer

Despite not succeeding in our attempt to cross the Oquirrhs, we were glad to have gotten up Butterfield Canyon.  It was quite pretty, with steep walls and lush vegetation.  We saw a bunch of deer and also human recreators: bicyclists, ATVers, motorcyclists, cowboys, campers.  Next time we'll make it through and see what's on the other side.

* When I said "drier, more travelled," I didn't mean it was actually a good road.  In many places, it wasn't wide enough for two vehicles to pass and it was rutted and washboarded and washed out with 1.5+ foot ruts.  It wasn't the worst or scariest dirt road we've ever been on, but it was a bit nerve-wracking in spots nonetheless.

conehead

Poor, poor B.  She's had a sore at the corner of her left eye - which we think may have begun life as a bug bite - and it just won't heal because she paws at it and rubs her face along the carpet or the furniture.  I finally got tired of cleaning up smeared blood so I took her to the vet to get fitted for a cone collar.  Ten minutes and $20 later, she was all decked out and in full pout mode.

It took her approximately 1.5 days of misjudging and running into the doorways (which is really, really funny, btw) before she broke it, so H had to repair the darn thing with a piece of milk jug and a bunch of duct tape.  She just hates wearing it so hopefully her eye will heal up soon. 

Hey - how's the reception with that thing?

filler

Sorry about the shortage of postage here.  We just haven't been doing much: working; riding (H)/going to the gym (A); meeting a friend from back east who was in SLC for work for beers; being duly impressed by the crazy-ass lightning storms that have lit up the mountains all week.  B is not enoying the thunder and lightning so much (scaredy-chicken) but it really is impressive weather.  And yesterday evening, in between the afternoon thunderstorms and the nighttime thunderstorms, there was a complete double rainbow outside our front door.

It's supposed to be a great weekend, though: cooler (high 80s), drier and clear, so we should have some fun outdoorsy stuff to report soon.  In the meantime, my morning glories - which I started from seed - are up! 

lazy sunday

No hike on Sunday.  It wasn't planned that way, but that's how it ended up.  We got up late but still packed up for a hike in Millcreek Canyon.  Then H had to run in to the office for a few minutes and then I wanted to go to breakfast.  I had my eye on a new (to us) place, one that has been on my to-go-to breakfast place list for months and one that was also recently featured on Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives:  the Blue Plate Diner.

Located right in SLC at 2041 South 2100 East, the Blue Plate Diner has a younger, hipper, more citified clientele than many of our more oftenly frequented diners.  The joint was jumping when we finally got there - after 11:00 a.m. - but we didn't have to wait too long for a table.  Completely forgetting my recent vow to stay away from big eggy and cheesy breakfasts on hiking days, I ordered the huevos rancheros with green salsa while H, staying true to form, got the pork chile verde omelet.  These breakfasts were HUGE (and I had to make another vow: to order my breakfasts sans potatoes from here on out) - way too big, even for H.  He thought that his chile verde was a little bland; the green salsa on my huevos was plenty spicy and flavorful, but instead of corn tortillas, the base of the dish was a thick, unsweetened, well-done, black bean griddle cake.  Tasty enough, and easier to fork through than corn tortillas, but a little dense.

By the time we rolled on out of the diner it was after noon and really hot.  We looked at each other and decided that there would be no hiking today: too full.  So we dragged out our Utah gazetteer and found ourselves a state park not too far away: Rockport State Park, a medium-sized reservoir just south of Wanship.  We flashed our state park pass and cruised on in, easily finding a quiet covered picnic table on the east side of the reservoir.  The overnight camping areas were pretty full - or were, as people were starting to pack up and head home, their weekend over - but most of the day use sites, like the one we found, were empty.  There were lots of watercraft buzzing about, towing waterskiers and tubers and fishing lines; the water was pretty nice and we immediately wished we'd thought to throw our swim suits in the car.  Next time.

Rockport Reservoir

After a few hours we drove through Browns Canyon to Park City - and a beer at the No Name Saloon - and then back home.  Not our most active day by a long shot, but a pleasant one nonetheless.