|Lower Bells Canyon|
Traveling across eastern Utah, the landscape looked like a lifeless planet. Lacking trees, fences and livestock, the giant red rocks resembled a graveyard of ghostly shipwrecks. Once over the pass and down into Price, we entered an oasis of wet mountains known as the Wasatch.
Rising sharply out of the desert plateau, the jagged, turquoise peaks form an impressive eastern boundary. At the city of Sandy, we traced the winding Wasatch Boulevard to a granite trailhead. Hung snuggly at the top of a narrow, natural staircase, we discovered the Lower Bells Canyon Reservoir.
The lovely, green lake was inhabited by a gaggle of friendly waterfowl. Delightful ducks, with little ones in tow, dipped, dabbled and dove while we hopped, skipped and jumped riskily along the rocky shoreline. Encircled by dark pine on a cloudy day, the shadowy, cold water appeared jet black.
Vertical crags formed an impressive backdrop while out west the Great Salt Lake was a hazy mirage. After some time for quiet reflection, basketball beckoned so we descended back to the beginning. Despite being whisked away from my beloved wilderness, it was still a wonderful day in the Wasatch.
|A narrow, natural staircase|
|Lower Bells Canyon Reservoir|
|The lovely, green lake|
|With little ones in tow|
|A risky venture along the rocky shoreline|
|The vertical crags were impressive|
|Great Salt Lake was a hazy mirage|
|A wonderful day in the Wasatch|