I was caught in Rock Springs for longer today than anticipated, so I rescheduled my meeting at the Flaming Gorge Dam for next week. I have always loved new stretches of road, and this bit between Rock Springs and Vernal is new to me. Although this landscape resembles others in this region, it always holds little treasures. Miles of rolling hills, scrub oak, and sagebrush can stretch endlessly, but you might still encounter something unexpected. For people driving through the back roads of western Utah, coming across something like the Sun Tunnels would be a complete head-scratcher. I’m not sure why the Sun Tunnels came to mind. Maybe it’s because they’re so remote and unusual. I wrote about them in a previous iteration of my blog, so if I can find the original piece and images, I will post them here.
I pass miles of wooden snow fences as I drive through these open plains. They stand as wooden guardians in this barren land—distant cousins to the stone sentinels worshiped by the ancients. They remind me of soldiers lined up for battle or the Maginot Line in France. How helpless we are against the forces of nature. We do what we can, little as it is, but we have done more than enough to accelerate our demise. That day is not today, however. Today is a quiet drive through an unknown land, accompanied by the wind, clouds, and blue sky. Today is the day of the Blue Sky Church.
Just past the Utah-Wyoming border, a bend in the road reveals a triangular cliff that juts from the hillside like a monstrous tooth. As you pass further around the bend, it continues on and on. Amazing. What is it about cliffs that is so fascinating and terrifying? As I mentioned a few days ago, I don’t like being on top of them, but seeing jagged cliffs always makes me smile. Maybe that makes me a cliff hugger.
I just left the dam and am driving through the forest. The sun casts light rays through gaps in the clouds, washing the trees with beautiful light. Hues of green refract through raindrops pattering on the windshield. I’m glad I’m not on a timetable this afternoon because this is an excellent drive through nature. I’m driving 10 miles an hour, just one in a long line of cars stuck behind a tanker truck turtling its way down the mountain. A forest of pine trees like this is uncommon in Utah—at least in my usual stomping grounds. They are everywhere in the northwest, where I would likely move were it not for my family and job.
A calf darted furtively across the road. His mother was nearby on the shoulder, munching on grass. Earlier, because I was walking down the hillside to take pictures of the snow fences, I passed several manure deposits, evidence of the open range in this area where ranchers let their cattle roam free on the landscape. I’m sure a lot is written about how this has changed the West over the last 100+ years. It makes me wonder what this looked like when the only inhabitants were the Native Americans. If we truly live in a simulation, as some scientists suggest, perhaps there’s a way to travel back and witness the world as it once was.
