Is there anything a little boy loves more than trains? From thomas the train, to SLC's trax, my boys are fascinated with any mobile unit of transportation that travels along a track, and occasionally emits a piercing whistle, designed to rupture the eardrums. One of our favorite places to eat in northern Utah has always been the "train place" otherwise known as Dairy Keen. I have been going there since I was yea high, and it was little more than a sidewalk burger joint. But for all our love of all things "locomotive" we have never taken a ride along the heber creeper. That is the Utah equivalent of living in San Francisco and never visiting Alcatraz, or New York, and never seeing Staten Island up close.
So this week we corrected this grevious oversight. Grandma and Grandpa Spotts, Sutton, Ryder, Channing, Evie, and Ron and I boarded the Heber Creeper at 10AM sharp, bound for a round trip journey to Vivian Park. Whomever nicknamed the train the Heber Creeper did so for obvious reasons. It CREEPS! But it was a lovely morning, accompanied by birds, squirrels, a multitude of cows, and bugs in veritable locust like proportions. Halfway down the canyon it came to me. Despite summer heat, an excess of sagebrush, and sometime shortage of water, we live in a LOVELY area. Wide blue skies, green mountains, cascading waterfalls, and the slowmoving waters of the provo river accompanied our trip through Provo Canyon.
And the slow pace of a nineteenth century mode of transportation was the perfect antidote to the all encompassing, headlong pace of modern concerns. It was like a deep breath of pine scented air in a stuffy room. This is the Place!!
Is there anything a little boy loves more than trains? From thomas the train, to SLC's trax, my boys are fascinated with any mobile unit of transportation that travels along a track, and occasionally emits a piercing whistle, designed to rupture the eardrums. One of our favorite places to eat in northern Utah has always been the "train place" otherwise known as Dairy Keen. I have been going there since I was yea high, and it was little more than a sidewalk burger joint. But for all our love of all things "locomotive" we have never taken a ride along the heber creeper. That is the Utah equivalent of living in San Francisco and never visiting Alcatraz, or New York, and never seeing Staten Island up close.
So this week we corrected this grevious oversight. Grandma and Grandpa Spotts, Sutton, Ryder, Channing, Evie, and Ron and I boarded the Heber Creeper at 10AM sharp, bound for a round trip journey to Vivian Park. Whomever nicknamed the train the Heber Creeper did so for obvious reasons. It CREEPS! But it was a lovely morning, accompanied by birds, squirrels, a multitude of cows, and bugs in veritable locust like proportions. Halfway down the canyon it came to me. Despite summer heat, an excess of sagebrush, and sometime shortage of water, we live in a LOVELY area. Wide blue skies, green mountains, cascading waterfalls, and the slowmoving waters of the provo river accompanied our trip through Provo Canyon. 
And the slow pace of a nineteenth century mode of transportation was the perfect antidote to the all encompassing, headlong pace of modern concerns. It was like a deep breath of pine scented air in a stuffy room. This is the Place!!
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