I-80 is a fast, and convenient way to go from point A to point B in a very short amount of time if you are traveling by interstate. Not so long ago, there weren’t any interstates. People either traveled by train or relied on a method of connect-the-dots to get from place to place. Large highways such as Route 66 changed that, creating a culture of tourist traps, motels, and mom and pop restaurants which served cheap and fast food for people on the road. There was a certain mystique about those days, and at the time it was very much self-aware. A TV show in the 1960s called “Route 66” romanticized this nomadic life on the road, which two guys in their ’66 ‘Vette getting into adventures every week. With the arrival of interstates, many of these places were cut loose from the tourist/traveling circuit. People were less interested in local museums or landmarks. They only cared about getting to the destination. To hell with the journey.
As flights became more convenient, the inland section of the United States became known as the Flyover States. What the Interstates and air travel didn’t wipe out immediately, GPS came along to chew up the bones of what remained. Have you ever noticed as you blitz through any number of cities on an interstate how it’s the same restaurants and gas stations, over an over again like the background of some 1960s Hannah-Barbera cartoon? Applebees. Starbucks. Kroger grocery stores (you can use you King Soopers card at a Smiths too, come to find out). Maybe ten corporations own everything. That’s why KenTuckoBells exist.
So, I took the road less traveled by, and that added about six hours to my drive home. And that made all the difference.
I headed out of Park City, UT on US 40, the old way to go from Colorado to Salt Lake. It winds south and east to places like Dinosaur, CO. It takes you through verdant canyons and out into high plains pinon forests. At a moderate 70mph, I reached Duchesne and stopped at a historical landmark to stretch my legs. One of the signs showed some stunning pictures of petroglyphs. I had visited the Sand Island petroglyphs before with my mom and dad on family vacations as a kid, but those were hours away near the Four Corners area. I kept reading and found out that an area called Nine Mile Canyon is considered the longest art gallery in the world, with a stretch of road 39 miles long that features similar petroglyphs at spots all along the way. From where I was I had a 55 mile detour along highway 191 to Price, UT through a winding canyon and then to just past Wellington, where I would take Soldier Canyon road to Nine Mile Canyon. From there, I could catch a dirt road and a highway all the way back to US 40 and Myton, UT and be back on course to head home.
On the way, I stopped at Grogg’s Pinnacle Brewing in Helper, UT. The only reason I knew it existed was because of a billboard on the highway. As Siri fought Waze for control of navigation, I arrived at Groggs to find a hole in the wall diner with the New York Jets/Carolina Panthers game on. Some locals who looked like they had stopped in after church, and a friendly pair of waitresses sporting tattoos all up and down their arms. I knew I was in the right place. I ordered a prime rib sandwich with a side of German potato salad. The surprising thing about Utah is how pockets of the state still hold onto old European traditions when it comes to cooking. You’ll find Scots/Irish, German, and often Eastern European dishes right there with the more modest introductions to Mormon cuisine. Real stick to your ribs kind of food.
The prime rib sandwich arrived. It was more like a French Dip with horseradish sauce and a generous amount of au jus to dip into. The potato salad was warm, vinegary, and accompanied with plenty of bacon. It’s not something you see, with potatoes being relegated to french fries or in some rare instances mashed. The whole meal was amazing and went down nicely with a pint of Kilt Lifter Scottish Ale. Compared to the $25 hamburger place in Park City, Grogg’s Pinnacle Brewing was much prefered. If you find yourself in Helper, UT, stop by. It’s a little out of the way, but worth the mile and a half drive past chain restaurants to get there.
After getting fuel in helper, I headed out to Nine Mile Canyon. With a small brochure I picked up in Grogg’s, I had a better idea of what to look for. After about ten miles, Soldier Rd. dropped into the canyon, marked by the distinctive Book Cliffs rising up on all sides. Signs on the side of the road mark most of the locations. Some require a short hike onto private property, but most are just off the side of the road.
Unfortunately, one of the easiest ways to spot a petroglyph site is to look for the graffiti. Over the years, jackasses have decided to immortalize their existence with what was probably some kind of significant, important event in their people’s culture, traditions, and communications.
We can only really guess at what most of it means. There have also been attempts by some to chisel the petroglyphs out of the rock as sourvenirs. But for the most part, they are intact and just being that close to them and seeing something so ancient is truly a profound experience. Another reminder: try not to get yourself killed on the road looking up for petroglyphs when you should be driving!
The day after I got home, my son and I spent half an hour on a Zoom call with me showing him pictures that I had taken along the way. He came up with all sorts of explanations for what the petroglyphs were and what they meant. Though he couldn’t be with me on this road trip, it still struck a chord with his imagination, and mine as well.
The images of mountain sheep, deer, elk, moose, buffalo, and the people who lived in this region were depicted in such a way that drew you in. You felt their connection to the land and could only fathom a guess as to why these moments were recorded on the face of these canyon walls.
I left the Canyon at around 4:30pm and reached Myton, UT and continued home via US 40 for the next five hours. This place was not something I would have ever thought to visit if I had relied on GPS. Technology has removed us from these places. Looking down from an airplane, you would never guess that an ancient people lived here and hunted and recorded their lives on the living rock walls. I would have never guessed such a place existed had I not stopped at one of those historical marker sites we all just blow past when we are in such a hurry.
I texted my mom when I hit Dinosaur, CO that I was on my way home.
“But that’s the long way home!” she said.
“It’s not like I’m in a hurry to get back to anything,” I said. After all, it is the journey, not the destination.
