This weekend I de-stressed by taking my BFF Chelsey to my favorite "thinking" drive: East Canyon, a winding path through the Wasatch mountains, and then to Echo, an old boom town from the days of the Transcontinental Railroad. We did keep going west and ended up making a beer run in Evanston, Wyoming, but that's not featured here. I just wanted to show some of the pretty pictures from the day. This drive means a lot to me, and I even wrote about it the first time I drove through years ago.
I had seen this old dilapidated structure I assumed to be a barn every time I drove past, but never stopped; this visit I made the executive decision to get out and take a look. I wandered up to it feeling very 'at home', since buildings like this are plentiful where I come from, and when I got close enough I realized, this wasn't a barn or a shed. I saw the stove inside, I saw the chimney crumbling through the cracks. It had been a house.
This made me really sad and I am not even sure why. I guess I saw my own house in it somewhere (the house where I grew up, that is.) I just got the overpowering feeling of home and I saw all of the neglect and age and wear, and I suppose a large part of me relates. It sounds silly, but that's the emotion I got.
Anyway, then it was back to Echo, the creepy, sleepy little town with a cemetery full of children and a lot of old, unused buildings. Echo is one of those places that makes you happy to return to the city and civilization.