Thursday, June 14, 2007


Hey readers, B here. I’m thrilled to be contributing to this blog and I wanted to get something up right away. These are some old pictures that I’ve never really done anything with. They were taken in 2003.

I’m writing this from memory, and though I could do some research I choose not to because I want this to go straight from my head to your hands. Because of this, there may be some geographic inaccuracies.

Let’s set the stage. During the Fall Semester of 2003 I had two classes, but about three hours of free time in between. I certainly wasn’t going to use those three hours studying, and there’s only so much time one can spend not buying CDs at Graywhale.

One of my favorite activities is Driving Around, so that became my tween-class pastime. I explored various canyons, and on a road that connected Emigration Canyon and Parley’s Canyon I found a nice spot overlooking a reservoir where I would park and eat lunch (sandwiches).

Eventually I started exploring further and further, following Emigration Canyon over to East Canyon. I was hesitant at first, like a young man making out with a girl for the first time, trying to see how much handsiness he could get away with.

Anyway, let’s break from the story to enjoy some fall colors.

One day I decided to go all the way, and I had a camera with me. Here’s the thing about East Canyon: it goes on and on and on and on. Over hills, ‘round curves, through the trees. In certain parts of East Canyon I get a weird feeling. I think there might be something sinister going on up there.

After a lot of driving the thick pine forest gives way to sand n’ sagebrush, a desolate area patrolled by dragons.

There’s a crossroads near the town of… Hennifer? It’s a nice area. Got itself some kind of stream, some algae filled ponds, a post office.

First, a left turn, where the spirit of locomotive industry lives on.

You come ‘roun these parts boy, you best be watchin’ yeh self. This here de Devil’s Slide.

That’s all there is to see to the left. Turning right at Hennifer yields a more interesting destination: Echo.

Named for the popular character from Lost, there doesn’t seem to be much of anything going on in Echo these days.

I’m surprised to see Echo surrounded by red rocks. I thought those lived solely to the Southern portion of the state.

Looks like the Modern Motel is the local hotspot.

I don’t go in because of the general spooky feeling emanating from the town. Seems like the kind of place where a hapless city slicker like me goes snooping around, only to run into a pack of Wolfpires.

“Hello? Anyone? What does it take to get some service around here? I just need OH NO I’M BEING ATTACKED BY HORRIBLE MONSTERS!!!”

I’m so worried about monster attacks that I decide to explore the abandoned church and the old cemetery.

Here’s some broken thing, if you need it.

I decide to put my childish fears aside and visit the Echo Café.

As soon as I enter my fears are re-established. The place is dusty, dark, and abandoned. The only noise comes from a single ceiling fan, spinning too slowly to do any good. A magazine rack holds the wrinkled pages of a random selection of decade-old magazines. Finally an old guy emerges from the back. I order a Coke.

“Forty-two degrees in Coalville last night,” he says in an out-of-place New England accent. I nod politely.

“Supposed to be even colder tonight.”

I say, "Shut up old man" and leave with my Coke.

The end.