Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Rocky Mountain High

I'm not used to mountains; I've lived nearly my entire life on the east coast. When I was growing up in the Lehigh Valley, as a kid we'd go to the Jersey shore for summer vacation (easy to get to, and comparably cheap). Then I went and moved to Long Island and lived there for eight years, living only a few miles from the ocean. I loved being near the water, and swore I'd never leave the east coast.
Then I went and got myself engaged to someone who's chosen profession has him stationed in Salt Lake City.

It's been a bit of a culture shock. One of the reasons I had always been hesitant to moved to a landlocked state (all the while knowing that Pennsylvania is, in fact, also landlocked) was that I had this weird claustrophobia: If I needed to escape, I could do so easily.

I will say, though, that the mountains are absolutely beautiful. When I had come out to Utah last December for a visit, Ed had made us reservations at Log Haven, a very nice restaurant that required us to dress up and drive through the snow-laden mountains: They were gorgeous, all white and twinkly. The further up we drove, the more snow appeared. (Thank goodness for four-wheel drive.) And it was so quiet, that quiet you get when everything is blanketed in several inches or more of snow. When we stepped out of the car, all we heard was the mountain stream tinkling through the snow.

Today we finally went on a really nice, long drive through the mountains again, through the Wasatch Mountain State Park and the Uinta National Forest. We drove by and attempted to get into the Timpanogos Cave National Monument (or at least see what it was about), but it was closed for the season.

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