A River Runs Through It (Utah That Is!)

Travel can give one new insights on the world and themselves. After my past few trips I have come to greatly appreciate Vermont and have narrowed down on where I would like to live and what career I'd like to pursue. While in Utah I was able to appreciate the scenery but also able to appreciate Vermont's protection of natural resources and the people that inhabit it.
Late Friday night my dad and I arrived in Salt Lake. Despite being exhausted we drove to Park City, where would be staying at the Canyons Resort, one of three ski areas in Park City, Deer Valley and Park City being the others. The Canyons is actually one of several mega hotels owned by David Siegel, who sponsored Newt Gringrich's 2012 campaign (no comment.) Because it is a ski hotel it is only navigable coming from the slopes,which my dad and I were doing, so we were pretty much stuck in a never ending labrynth with migrant housekeepers popping out of nowhere (they were helpful.)
                                                    
Saturday I was very light headed, partially due to exhuastion and high elevation (Park City is at 7,000 feet opposed to Brandon, VT which is 431 feet.) Later we went to the fly shop in Heber City to get our fishing licenses and to meet my guide, and to meet my guide Jim O'Neil. Later, when we were getting ourselves geared up to fish in the Provo River, I told Jim that I had no expectations of getting a fish, and he give me a bewildered look. I got three brown trout: a 15 inch, a 16inch, and an 18 inch. The fishing is actually really good in Provo, due to the constant current speed and temperature (57 degrees Farenheit all year,) which are controlled by the Jordanelle Dam.
Sunday we had another guide, Brian, who was a transplant from North Carolina (there are a lot of transplants from the south in Utah) and is actually a snow patrolmen at The Canyons. After three hours of fishing I hadn't been able to catch anything, and was growing extremeley frustrated,  mostly due to the fact that my dad had already caught five by that point. After changing my fly and getting the right cast I got a bite and striked. After a long fight the fruit of my patience was a 19 inch brown (which I don't have a picture of.)
Later on we went to the house of the woman who was organizing the conference that my dad was attending at The Canyons. It was pretty awesome, but the most interesting aspect of the house was how it was built around this big red sandstone table that sort of looked like Aslan's table from The Chronicles of Narnia.

Monday my dad had meetings with educators from around Utah, so I went to work out, then I got lost and went groccery shopping. After his last meeting with dual language curriculum coordinators we headed to Falcons Ledge, an Orvis sponsored fishing lodge in Altamount, to spend the week hiking and fishing in the Uintas. We were originally going to backpack all week but after my father's double henia surgery and the 90 mile canoe race he wasn't feeling up to carrying a 50 pound pack. During our stay there was a beginners adult fly fishing camp, which consisted of mostly people from the south who didn't know much about the outdoors and really just wanted to drink and eat the whole time.

Tuesday we hiked into Granddaddy Basin, where a chain of small lakes are located. The trailhead was at 10,000 feet, so the temperature was already cool, but when we reached our destination the temperature had to dropped to above freezing. By then we were under a horrendous thunderstorm with hail and the whole schaBANG! We didn't see any fishing rising and the storm didn't look like it was lightening up, so we headed back. On our way back we noticed that the top of the Uintas were actually covered in SNOW! No wonder I was so cold! While driving back we noticed that although we were on national forest land, there were cows everywhere by the streams. This got me slightly outraged, because I had learned that fertilizer, which sometimes comes from cow poop, causes water to become polluted.

 

That eveing we went to the local hotspot for dinner, in nearby Altamont, which was pretty much the equivalent of eating in my parents old shipping room with the walls painted orange while eating food served by the FFA booth at the fair. But this was the only decent place for 25 miles, so who can complain, especially when two meals cost $10. While driving to Altamont we went by the natural gas processing plant (the flame below is from the plant.) Oil is a pretty big industry out there. Across from where we ate was a huge brand new high school. It was bigger than Otter Valley with the student body the size of Proctor.?

                          

Wednesday we were supposed to have a guide, but because of the all the rain the streams were off color and the currents were extremely strong. So instead my dad and I went on another hike to another lake, but could not reach it because the trail was blocked by a another raging river. We did have beautiful views of aspen forest and the highest point in Utah, Kings Peak. While I was hiking I kept thinking about how everywhere I had been the weather had been off: Ireland the weather was ridiculously dry, Vermont had way too many thunderstorms, and Utah was having a wet autumn.

Thursday we drove to Falming Gorge, which is the dammed up portion of the Green River. We stopped in the fly shop in Dutch John and met the owner who was actually from Paul Smith, NY. He told us all about his crazy canoe adventures in Canada, mostly in Algonquin Provincial Park. He mentioned how he had been through Indian Lake, which you can only camp on islands because there is a group of recluse Indians on the shore. Because of the Indians, adventurers are only allowed to bring flare guns as protection, which they actually need because polar bears will track them down. We went on our way and fished on the lower part of the Green River. We were fishing in a canyon, which was awesome, but the coolest thing was when we saw two deer, a mother and her fawn, swim across the river. We didn't catch anything, despite there being 20,000 fish per mile, mostly because of the wind, but we were entertained by the drift boats. When we got back to the parking lot we saw a group of ambulance and an emergency helicopter. We later learned that it was one of the women that were staying at Falcon's Ledge. She dislocated her hip but her pain tolerance was high because she was taking oxicotin.

Friday we had a guide and we did fish. Our guide, Mike from Kansas, was one of the managers at the lodge. He graduated from Kansas State a year ago and spent a season working at a fishing lodge in Patagonia, Argentina. We fished the Rock Creek, where I caught three rainbow trout. I had to stop for a while to give my dad a chance to get a fish, which he did. Afterwards we headed back to Heber City.

Saturday we hiked up to Stewart Falls, which is up the road from the ski resort that Robert Redford owns, Sundance. There were over a hundred cars in and around the parking lot, which is understandable since we were near the metropolis of Utah (Provo, Salt Lake, Park City.) After hiking we went back Heber and fished in the Provo one more time. Within five minutes I caught a fish. I was actually incredibly proud of myself because I did all of the handywork independtly.

That evening we went into Salt Lake, which is sort of a mega Burlington with Mormon headquarters mixed in. We went out to dinner at The Copper Onion, which was so good, considering the food that we had prior to then. After dinner we were orignially going to go to the Olympic Square, but our waitress told us that it was under construction, so we went to a nearby mall. Walking to and from was sort of eerie, considering that it was a Saturday night and there was barely anyone around. 

                                                        
After the trip, I have come to several conclusions. First, I don't think I could tolerate living in the Wild West. Yes, it is beautiful and I do live in a rural place, but some of these towns are so desolate and it's a distance to anything. Maybe I am a little biased when it comes to Vermont, but I need some sort of natural green, not manicured type. But overall, after my past few experiences, I really wish that I had done two years worth of Moosalamoo, opposed to one semester. Maybe it would have been better for me, considering how terribly junior year went, but also I would have had the opportunity to learn how to fly fish and how to properly steer a canoe. But life shouldn't be all about regrets. Right now I'm thinking of the Shel Silverstein poem about all of the didn'ts and the wished and the won'ts, well I did and I will. I think I'll make that my "catchpoem" for my gap year.