The conclusion of our southwest pilgrimage begins with a trip down the Death Strip. A 50+ mile stretch of straight flat highway.
I stare out at the surreal landscape trying to decipher the divide between land and sky; at some point I become convinced that there isn’t one. The mirage before me makes mountains levitate out in the distance. Masses weighing tons look like little rocks. The drive is smooth for the most part. The van buzzes with the usual amount of activity. At one point an ugly form posing as a monument with thick limbs and boulder-sized balls at each end comes into focus breaking my trance. I telepathically send my best to the driver for passing it without haste. We continue on, the landscape subtly changes developing more shrubbery. The a/c creates goosebumps on my arms that mirror the terrain. The drive continues at its usual pace. I stare from the very back of the van out at my surroundings, they soon become blurry and I drift into sleep.
We soon arrive at our first checkpoint for the day - a cute cafe in downtown Salt Lake City called The Rose. Sadly it is only a coffee stop so our almost instant infatuation with the place is short-lived. Our next checkpoint is the Golden Spike National Historic Site. I spend a few minutes perusing the gift shop but have a hard time focusing on anything knowing what happens next on our class agenda. Upon our departure I have a rejuvenated interest in the landscape and ready myself for Robert Smithson’s "Spiral Jetty".
Waiting excitedly to spot Spiral Jetty from afar I fidget in my seat letting strange noises escape in-between conversing. A hush hits the car and we see what we believe to be Smithson’s famous earthwork. It appears to be completely submerged. From the front of the vehicle I hear “Well, that’s it guys. Let's turn back.”
Feeling slightly crazed due to the amount of time I have spent in a van for the past two weeks it almost seems fitting that our last stop would be a complete bust. Giggles from the van assure me that this was just a false alarm. The jetty is still ahead. A few miles further Spiral Jetty enters the frame of the windshield, looking impressive despite its distance from us. We pull up slowly and pour out of the van. The familiar shuttering noises of cameras fill my ears as I take my own snapshots. Before long we are all treading down the rocky path to the stone spiral. I find myself at the tail of the spiral with shoes full of sand. I gaze out at the piece and begin to shed my footwear and roll my pant legs so that I may walk the Spiral Jetty. I trudge along the wet and winding path paying close attention to my feet. Each step became a meditation and the journey to the center a reflection of the entire trip. The trail to the center of Spiral Jetty was long and at times rough but so very valuable that any physical discomfort was overshadowed. Once in the very center we all took a moment of silence to truly engage ourselves in the moment. In that moment only birds, bugs, and tiny ripples penetrated our ears. Salt dried on our ankles and hands making our skin sparkle. We made our way back cutting across the jetty for our feet’s sake and hiked up past the van to experience the earthwork from afar. The piece became twenty times more stunning perched from a rock on the hillside. We spent a bit more time then headed out. I couldn’t have drawn a better close to this trip than a 15' 1" x 1,509' spiral in the Great Salt Lake and am eternally grateful for Smithson doing so.
-Brandon McGee
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