My drive on Saturday March 29th was all a traveler could want. Utah drivers still tend to be left-lane hogs and drive erratically but traffic was light today until I reached the Salt Lake area.
I started out around 6:15 just as dawn was breaking and drove up through the red rocks that mark the ravine in which Moab, Arches, and Canyonlands are located. Once at the plateau above the earth becomes ochre with an overlay of straw-coloured dead grass. As one drives north the solid wall of gray rock that is the Colorado Plateau rises to the north looming vertically ever closer until the turning at its base to go west on I-70. At Green River the route to Salt Lake turns North on Utah 191 a 4-lane highway with level intersections. A sign warning of no services for 100 miles strikes an ominous tone. Eventually the highway rises onto the plateau above on a patch of road that looks like a waterfall streaming off the heights above. As one drives along the snow-capped mountains to the North loom ever higher and higher. The highway follows a valley between two towering plateaus. I stopped at Wellington for fuel as the price seemed right and I used up a lot of fuel yesterday driving around Canyonlands.
At Helper the mountains ahead rise in a seeming unbroken wall towering overhead. Plumes of steam rise from the mines and a large hoarding reads:
After Helper the road takes a left turn to HWY 6 and enters a previously unseen ravine with a solid wall of light gray rock on the left-side and the familiar red sandstone on the right. Hats off to the surveyors who found this pass and charted the route through these canyons and ravines. There are few precipitous rises and only one major switchback though the busy railway line that parallels the highway takes a more circuitous route. The town below derives its name from the helper locomotives that pushed trains to the summit. On an open plateau half-way up sits a ranch and the summit itself is an open meadow. A month makes a great deal of difference. I last drove this stretch in February with snow banks lining the road and the temperature dropping to 9 above. Although the temperature dropped below freezing as I gained elevation and the squeegees at the gas station were surrounded by ice by the time I reached the summit it was a balmy 42 above.
At Spanish Fork I-15 joins 6 south of Provo. The stretch of highway I’d just driven is rated one of the most dangerous in America. Today it seemed fairly innocuous though it is novel coming down to be passing a truck with a foot firmly on the brake pedal. The valley between Utah Lake and Salt Lake which lies between two mountain ranges acts as a wind tunnel so I was thankful to arrive around 11 before the wind got too strong. After the other mountain routes I’ve since driven this one doesn’t seem so intimidating any more though it is rated as one of Americas most dangerous highways.
Wonderful after 5 years to find the Salt Lake City KOA still unchanged. Unlike last time I did not get lost finding it. It’s all in knowing how to work your GPS. Streets near Temple Square have N and S, E and W designations that make navigation confusing. The staff here are polite, efficient, and eminently helpful, a refreshing change.
Temple Square Volunteers run a van service from the local airport that stops at the campground and took I and others in to witness Music and the Spoken Word Sunday Morning. Nothing can compare with seeing 360 choir members, full orchestra, organist, and today 30 handbell ringers performing live at 8:30 in the morning. Dedicated in 1870 the Tabernacle boasts perfect acoustics and its pipe organ claims nearly 12,000 pipes. Added since my last visit is a massive boom web cam counterbalanced with 650 pounds of weights. Not sure what the orchestra thinks of having it zoom over their heads barely missing their conductor.
Windy but balmy this morning when the shuttle picked us up for the drive into Temple Square. We arrived to find the choir rehearsing. Always fun to see what goes on behind the scenes. The 180 women of the choir were dressed in purple, the men in black suits with white shirts and black ties. With a nearly full house and the A/C not turned on choir members were fanning themselves. Mack Wilberg conducts a large orchestra--8 cellos, 4 double basses and today a 30-strong handbell choir wearing black gloves an octave lower than I’m accustomed to seeing with bells big enough to require two hands. The handbells played Kingsfold, one of the tunes to which we sing the Twenty-Third Psalm. While the 500 musicians went out to freshen up we were given a talk. Just before the concert went live to air a make-up person walked up and combed organist Andrew Unsworth’s hair without his paying any notice. Choir members must audition and live within 100 miles of Temple Square, (it used to be 50), be at least 25 and retire after 20 years or upon reaching 60. Lloyd Newell does his commentaries from a stand in the balcony. He came forward to the stage at the end of the broadcast to talk, and then the entire stage crew turned to face the audience and sing God be with you till we meet again. This was show number 4,411, it has continued weekly since July 15, 1929. To a man the coats were shed as soon as the lights were turned down at the end of broadcast for the rehearsal that followed. Can you imagine driving 200 miles on a Thursday Night for a 90 minute rehearsal. None of the musicians or technicians is paid.
After touring the museum walked down for beet salad and fish and chips then came back for the 2 PM organ concert. The General Conference is next week so even this concert was well attended. Once more, an elder gave us a talk. Selections were picked to show off the organ. The principal chorus, the strings, the weirder theatre organ stops, and in the final toccata a finale featuring full organ.
At end of concert I raced out to catch my ride home at 2:30. Everyone on Temple Square and our drivers were exaggeratedly polite and solicitous. I was amused to learn that the Americans in the crew were told the pickup was 15 minutes before the actual time.
Could have done without the white stuff but an inspiring day. It started raining with several lightening flashes and claps of thunder while I was having lunch, then the temperature started dropping dramatically. When I left the organ concert it was snowing heavily.
I started out around 6:15 just as dawn was breaking and drove up through the red rocks that mark the ravine in which Moab, Arches, and Canyonlands are located. Once at the plateau above the earth becomes ochre with an overlay of straw-coloured dead grass. As one drives north the solid wall of gray rock that is the Colorado Plateau rises to the north looming vertically ever closer until the turning at its base to go west on I-70. At Green River the route to Salt Lake turns North on Utah 191 a 4-lane highway with level intersections. A sign warning of no services for 100 miles strikes an ominous tone. Eventually the highway rises onto the plateau above on a patch of road that looks like a waterfall streaming off the heights above. As one drives along the snow-capped mountains to the North loom ever higher and higher. The highway follows a valley between two towering plateaus. I stopped at Wellington for fuel as the price seemed right and I used up a lot of fuel yesterday driving around Canyonlands.
At Helper the mountains ahead rise in a seeming unbroken wall towering overhead. Plumes of steam rise from the mines and a large hoarding reads:
COAL = JOBS
After Helper the road takes a left turn to HWY 6 and enters a previously unseen ravine with a solid wall of light gray rock on the left-side and the familiar red sandstone on the right. Hats off to the surveyors who found this pass and charted the route through these canyons and ravines. There are few precipitous rises and only one major switchback though the busy railway line that parallels the highway takes a more circuitous route. The town below derives its name from the helper locomotives that pushed trains to the summit. On an open plateau half-way up sits a ranch and the summit itself is an open meadow. A month makes a great deal of difference. I last drove this stretch in February with snow banks lining the road and the temperature dropping to 9 above. Although the temperature dropped below freezing as I gained elevation and the squeegees at the gas station were surrounded by ice by the time I reached the summit it was a balmy 42 above.
At Spanish Fork I-15 joins 6 south of Provo. The stretch of highway I’d just driven is rated one of the most dangerous in America. Today it seemed fairly innocuous though it is novel coming down to be passing a truck with a foot firmly on the brake pedal. The valley between Utah Lake and Salt Lake which lies between two mountain ranges acts as a wind tunnel so I was thankful to arrive around 11 before the wind got too strong. After the other mountain routes I’ve since driven this one doesn’t seem so intimidating any more though it is rated as one of Americas most dangerous highways.
Wonderful after 5 years to find the Salt Lake City KOA still unchanged. Unlike last time I did not get lost finding it. It’s all in knowing how to work your GPS. Streets near Temple Square have N and S, E and W designations that make navigation confusing. The staff here are polite, efficient, and eminently helpful, a refreshing change.
Temple Square Volunteers run a van service from the local airport that stops at the campground and took I and others in to witness Music and the Spoken Word Sunday Morning. Nothing can compare with seeing 360 choir members, full orchestra, organist, and today 30 handbell ringers performing live at 8:30 in the morning. Dedicated in 1870 the Tabernacle boasts perfect acoustics and its pipe organ claims nearly 12,000 pipes. Added since my last visit is a massive boom web cam counterbalanced with 650 pounds of weights. Not sure what the orchestra thinks of having it zoom over their heads barely missing their conductor.
Windy but balmy this morning when the shuttle picked us up for the drive into Temple Square. We arrived to find the choir rehearsing. Always fun to see what goes on behind the scenes. The 180 women of the choir were dressed in purple, the men in black suits with white shirts and black ties. With a nearly full house and the A/C not turned on choir members were fanning themselves. Mack Wilberg conducts a large orchestra--8 cellos, 4 double basses and today a 30-strong handbell choir wearing black gloves an octave lower than I’m accustomed to seeing with bells big enough to require two hands. The handbells played Kingsfold, one of the tunes to which we sing the Twenty-Third Psalm. While the 500 musicians went out to freshen up we were given a talk. Just before the concert went live to air a make-up person walked up and combed organist Andrew Unsworth’s hair without his paying any notice. Choir members must audition and live within 100 miles of Temple Square, (it used to be 50), be at least 25 and retire after 20 years or upon reaching 60. Lloyd Newell does his commentaries from a stand in the balcony. He came forward to the stage at the end of the broadcast to talk, and then the entire stage crew turned to face the audience and sing God be with you till we meet again. This was show number 4,411, it has continued weekly since July 15, 1929. To a man the coats were shed as soon as the lights were turned down at the end of broadcast for the rehearsal that followed. Can you imagine driving 200 miles on a Thursday Night for a 90 minute rehearsal. None of the musicians or technicians is paid.
After touring the museum walked down for beet salad and fish and chips then came back for the 2 PM organ concert. The General Conference is next week so even this concert was well attended. Once more, an elder gave us a talk. Selections were picked to show off the organ. The principal chorus, the strings, the weirder theatre organ stops, and in the final toccata a finale featuring full organ.
At end of concert I raced out to catch my ride home at 2:30. Everyone on Temple Square and our drivers were exaggeratedly polite and solicitous. I was amused to learn that the Americans in the crew were told the pickup was 15 minutes before the actual time.
Could have done without the white stuff but an inspiring day. It started raining with several lightening flashes and claps of thunder while I was having lunch, then the temperature started dropping dramatically. When I left the organ concert it was snowing heavily.
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