Reflections from a mountain state

Go west, young man

Horace Greeley popularized this line, first documented a generation before Greeley made it his mantra, and helped to define America’s 19th century spirit and growth.

Sure, it can be interpreted to be a number of things, but for me, it distills down to enjoying the splendor and natural beauty of our vast mountain ranges, still somewhat clear skies and air, and of course crisp water and expansive space and scale.

Though I’ve only driven cross-country but once, I have been able to find myself out in the mountain west on a regular basis.

And right now, I’m in Salt Lake City, fretting over a spring snow, frustrated by my unerring ability to catch winter weather several times over, while not getting to enjoy the benefits that come from sudden snow and fresh powder.

But it provides time to reflect, and consider the openness that exists in these regions, the trust and faith that seems to endure, and the grandness that forever reminds me why people keep turning west for recreation and relaxation.

Salt Lake City itself is a quintessential western city. Set up on wide blocks, with 8 city blocks to the mile, it’s not designed as an urbanist mecca, with too great a distance to walk between places, and too much sprawl to encourage all but the hardiest bikers. (and those folks exist. Even amidst a strong snow last night, there were a pair of riders, with their bikes, in a local grocery store picking up items for dinner)

The city feels a bit dated, perhaps having as much to do with the traditionalism of the Mormon community as anything else. But the architecture adds to this as well. Sure, there are a handful of new and modern projects under construction right near South Temple, but most of the high rises scream 70’s and the ugly phase of modernism. Buried beneath, and documented nicely with placards and other memorials, are the buildings that helped launch this city in the 19th and early 20th century, from classically designed hotels, to social houses, to banks and trading institutions.

The city of course is home to the complex of buildings and facilities run by the LDS, and that still does seem, to a visitor, to be the predominant element here.

But there is more, for those who wish to press further, from the University of Utah up on the hill, the magnificent State Capitol building to the north, the city-county building in the city center, as well as some other complexes that have sprouted up to support and sustain professional sports and entertainment, facilities that had central roles during the 2002 Winter Olympic Games, and some public plazas that really do seem to have come out of the Disney school of architecture and urban planning. Oh, Michael Graves, what have you done to us.

But despite the tranquil appearance, this is still a city, with the problems and issues that come with urban life. While spending time yesterday in the Moshe Sofdie designed public library, I sensed a flash go off in front of me. It seemed odd to see flash photography in the library. Looking up I saw a cop standing near the photographer, and upon second glance I notice the photographer was also in a police uniform, with CRIME SCENE PHOTOGRAPHER clearly marked across her back. So something was amiss in a place some once considered Eden, and judging by the number of marked and unmarked units outside the library, it was something significant.

And it’s a city with a remarkable view of the fantastic Wasatch range, a unique lake, and vistas that run for miles and miles.

Off to talk with students about journalism and media. Perhaps I’ll come up with a way to provide them with inspiration beyond that provided by nature. Naah, not gonna compete with that one!