Moor dead than alive: The Saltair Pavillions of Magna, Utah

 The first Saltair Pavillion, circa 1900...

 ...featuring fun in Salt Lake

 Pavillion II, probably around the 1950s

 Today's Pavillion III, on a lonely stretch of I-80

 There are tons of little black birds who nest in the pavillion and swoop down within an inch of your life.

 The interior. Bob Dylan played here. Is there anywhere he won't play?

 The Great Salt Lake, right nearby. No swimming, though.

 You'd think the owner of this magnificent structure would have a more prestigious parking space.

We love middle-of-nowhere places and there's a real doozy off lonesome Interstate 80 in north-central Utah. Just a mere 16 miles west of Salt Lake City sits an eerie structure with a doomed past called the Saltair. Back in the late 1800s, a giant, Moorish, onion-domed pleasure palace was built on the shores of the Great Salt Lake as a "Coney Island of the West" where the mostly Mormon population could have some good, clean, turn-of the-century fun. It was quite successful until the pavilion and other buildings were destroyed by fire in 1925. The structures were rebuilt but bad luck followed by a more devastating fire in 1931. The lake also receded, making it much more difficult for guests to go swimming, one of the main attractions. They closed during World War II and when they reopened after the war, competition made it difficult to attract customers way out to their remote location, and they finally shut down for good in 1958. Attempts were made to revitalize Saltair over the next decade, but were put to an end by an arson fire that destroyed the place once and for all in 1970. But like the owner of Swamp Castle in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," they weren't ready to give up and a Saltair Pavilion III was constructed out of a decommissioned Air Force hangar dragged near their old location in 1981. Almost immediately bad luck again ensued when the lake flooded the structure, then receded much too far away. The location was eventually used as a concert venue but by the late 1990s had run out of gas. Still Python-esque, it wasn't dead yet, though, because a group of music investors bought the place in 2005 and have been hosting the likes of Bob Dylan, the Dave Matthews Band, Rob Zombie and Keisha since. Their upcoming lineup of shows seems to be a little less stellar, but if you've been hankering to catch Tech N9ne's Band of Psychos tour, you're in luck: they're playing Saltair on November 2.

I never metaphor I didn't like: Metaphor, The Tree of Utah

(You really ought to click on these to see what they look like big)

Driving through western Utah's Bonneville Salt Flats affords the eccentric roadside traveler a surreal, other-worldly landscape, and it somehow seems appropriate that a Swedish sculptor would erect an 87-foot tall "tree" with giant tennis ball-like leaves painted in colorful shades here. Back in 1982, Karl Momen began building what would eventually become "Metaphor: The Tree of Utah," a masterpiece made of 225 tons of concrete, 2,000 ceramic tiles, 5 tons of welding rod and a ton or two of minerals and rocks native to Utah. He completed the project in 1986, financed it himself, donated it to the state of Utah and returned to Sweden. It sits 95 miles west of Salt Lake City on a particularly stark and lonesome stretch of Interstate 80, and there is no access to get a good up close look at it, as Momen didn't spring for an exit ramp off the highway, so you either have to stop illegally along I-80, or snap away furiously as you whip past it going down the freeway. It's a wonderful site to behold though, in all its weirdness and odd beauty, right down to the shard-like "leaves" strewn around its fenced-in base.

Coming across a great roadside work of art like this makes me as happy as leaving my cake out in the rain, with its sweet green icing flowing down, and I'll never have that recipe again. How's that for a metaphor?

Up to speed: Utah's Bonneville Salt Flats

Interstate 80 takes you there.

They don't call them flats for nothing.

Our Subaru Forester's proudest moment: making it to the flats.

They tell you not to venture off the road...

...and for good reason. It can be pretty muddy out there in the winter and spring.

Say "cheese."

We encountered this scene on the road to the Speedway: an SUV stuck in the mud, a tow truck, a woman taking charge of the situation in the street and a sheepish-looking husband behind the wheel. Imagined dialog: Wife: "Honey, the sign says to stay on the road." Husband: "Oh, it'll be alright, trust me. Besides, I want to tell the guys back home I drove on the flats." Husband:"Uh-oh" Wife: "Sigh"

The Pontiac Bonneville is named after the Speedway, although I can't imagine this model setting any speed records.

"The World's Fastest Indian" with Anthony Hopkins also takes place at the flats.

The Bonneville Salt Flats of northwestern Utah are what was left behind after an ancient lake evaporated and left huge concentrations of salt. They're named after a Captain B.L. Bonneville, an early U.S. military explorer charged with heading west. Today the salt flats measure over 44,000 acres and are mostly public land. Interstate 80, that long, long cross-country highway, runs right through them, but they are most famously known as the place where land speed records are made at the Bonneville Speedway where motorized vehicles can compete at stupid crazy speeds for as far as the eye can see when the flats are dry in the summer and fall. Several events are held during this period, the largest being SpeedWeek, run every August by the Southern California Timing Association and the Bonneville Nationals. A Mr. W.D. Rishel was the first guy to come up with the idea of using the flats as a raceway in 1896, and other notable figures include Teddy Tetzlaff and his 141 mph Blitzen Benz in 1914, and Ab Jenkins and his 24-hour-endurance-record-of-161-mph Mormon Meteor III (you heard me) in 1940. We visited in the spring when there was still water across a wide expanse of the flats, but we could definitely picture souped-up vehicles going for miles and miles across the ultra-flat lunar landscape. Maybe next year we can come back and enter our Subaru Forester in the World's Fastest Station Wagon competition. That would be flat-out awesome.

Semi-conscious: Some trucks seen along the way

A. Duie Pyle of what, pray tell?

And by "gasser", I'm sure they mean that in a Rat Pack "a real solid gasser, man" sort of way.

I'll take "Trucks That Carry Bread" for $500, Alex.

Cue the Tony Bennett: "Oh the good life, full of fun seems to be the ideal..."

Don't be so down on yourself...I'm sure it's lovely in your part of Ohio.

Nobody beats the Sapps...nobody.

My eyes! My eyes! Oh my eyes!

Our Lady of the Snowy Abandoned Dodge.

You just had to try the Bonneville Salt Flats in the wet season, didn't you?

National Pickle Day. Be Kind to Your Accountant Day. Take a Phlebotomist To Lunch Day. I'm out.

I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. No wait, that was Johnny Cash. Never mind.

Keep on Truck Inn.

A hole lot of fun: Moab, Utah's Hole N" The Rock

There was a time in America when a young married couple could buy a mountain of rock, excavate 50,000 feet of sandstone out of it singlehandedly and set up housekeeping. And that's just what Arthur and Gladys Christensen did in the 1940s and 50s with The Hole N" The Rock outside of Moab, Utah. Inside are fourteen fabulous rooms arranged around huge pillars. A fireplace with a 65 foot chimney drilled through solid sandstone, a deep french fryer, and a bathtub built into the rock are among the attractions. A guided tour costs only $5 and is well worth it to see the original furnishings, some rather tattered-looking stuffed animals and Arthur's crude yet earnest portraits of Jesus. A fine giftshop, petting zoo and other roadside delights dazzle you in the parking lot. You can't miss it coming down the highway as HOLE N" THE ROCK is painted in large white letters that can be seen from miles away (the incorrect punctuation after the N only adds to the charm). Unfortunately they don't allow rogue pictures of the inside to be taken, so be sure to check out their website for the official owner-sanctioned views. Rock on, Arthur and Gladys, rock on.

Pooped out in Utah

I like a good poop joke as much as the next fellow, especially if the next fellow is 12 years old or Mel Brooks. So imagine my delight when the outstandingly beautiful Arches National Park in Utah had an exhibit in their visitors' center referring to packrat poop. Not exactly a joke, but hilarious to the immature-minded nonetheless. Not excrement, not dung, not droppings. Poop. It seems the little critters' "gifts" are crucial in the carbon dating process vital to the scientists and geologists who document how old the park is. And that's the poop on poop.

Roadtrip journal: Hole N" The Rock: A hole lot of fun!

If you don't see any pictures, click on the X in the upper right corner.

September 2006

Moab, Utah

We're pooped from our day-of-too-much-scenery at Canyonlands and Dead Horse, but not too pooped for another eccentric roadside marvel: The Hole N" The Rock outside of Moab. There was a time in America when a young married couple could buy a mountain of rock, excavate 50,000 feet of sandstone out of it singlehandedly and set up housekeeping. And that's just what Arthur and Gladys Christensen did in the 1940s and 50s. Inside are fourteen fabulous rooms arranged around huge pillars. A fireplace with a 65 foot chimney drilled through solid sandstone, a deep french fryer, and a bathtub built into the rock are among the attractions. A guided tour costs only $5 and is well worth it to see the original furnishings, some rather tattered-looking stuffed animals and Arthur's crude yet earnest portraits of Jesus. A fine giftshop, petting zoo and other roadside delights dazzle you in the parking lot. You can't miss it coming down the highway as HOLE N" THE ROCK is painted in large white letters that can be seen from miles away (the incorrect punctuation after the N only adds to the charm). Unfortunately they don't allow rogue pictures of the inside to be taken, so be sure check out their website for the official owner-sanctioned views: http://www.theholeintherock.com/. This place is not to be missed!