Utah Desert

I pulled a long haul across Nevada, choosing to take Rte 50 instead of the interstate. It didn’t disappoint: seventy miles an hour and beautiful every sing mile. At Ely, where I’d left 50 for Rte 6 on my way west, I turned north on Rte 93, which ran the long valley parallel to the Schell Creek Range range.

From West Wendover, the Utah desert loomed, a white ghost to the north and east. The state line was painted on the pavement, but also with the buildings. Casinos bumped up against each other on the Nevada side while Utah offered motels and fast food joints. I merged onto I-80 east and passed the turn off for the Bonneville Speedway, a broad expanse of hard-packed, salt desert where, among other landspeed trials, Craig Breedlove set a record traveling 600.601 mph in his jet powered Spirit of America in 1965.

A mist loomed, it seemed, as dense as the fog on the Mendocino coast, and obscuring the sun. But there was no moisture. Wind leaned against my car causing me to steer to the right for miles. My mist, I realized, was salt dust whipped from the desert floor. Ten miles in, the dust settled, but the wind did not. Two motorcycles passed me listing south at a ten-degree angle.

The ground began to glint as slow-formed crystals caught the light. Frost, my mind said, ice, new fallen snow. Along the roadside, tire tracks revealed the depth of the mineral crust. Black stones formed names, patterns, and spirals. Smiley faces and peace signs stood out against the white earth. In one place someone had stopped to dig a hole.

Beyond the railroad tracks that paralleled the highway to the south, lay the Dugway Proving Ground, a military test site for chemical and biological weapons. Dugway, which in addition to “protecting national interests” and “rendering danger from chemical/biological agents irrelevant”, cites “fostering environmental stewardship” in its mission. My initial sarcasm burned to anger. I know that the “weapons” testing to the south does not help the surrounding biota. Its presence lent to the eeriness of my crossing.

Then, finally, the now-familiar contours of the Great Salt Lake, and water.