“I woke to the familiar sound of a train in the distance. I find the sound soothing after fifteen years of living in a town divided by tracks. “What a weird dream,” I thought, not fully awake. I grappled momentarily with confusion. It wasn’t a dream and I wasn’t home. I was in Salt Lake City with my kids. We spent the day before in an eerie, disorienting, magical place called the Bonneville Salt Flats.
The salt flats were formed by glacial water left 10,000 years ago with no outlet. As the water evaporated, sediment was left behind. The salt and minerals simply built up. It’s nearly 5 feet thick. This Salt Desert is twelve miles long and five miles wide and is estimated to hold 147 million tons of salt.
“Five feet of salt,” I reminded my white-knuckled self as the car moved onto the surface. There were other cars on the salt pan. “Cars race here,” I tried to reason with experience, which saw the salt as ICE and screamed “NO!” I think it was a midwestern survival instinct. It was warm, nearly 70. No one should be on the ice in this weather, especially in a car. But it wasn’t ice; it was salt. My brain had a hard time grasping that concept.
It was grey-white as far as one could see. Without the mountains for orientation, one would easily walk circles under the noon sun. The salt surface looked like water in the distance, a mirage that added to the confusion. It was hot when the sun was out, encouraging my sharp black shadow and me to peel off a sweater and think about the extra gallon of water safely stashed in the car. Cloud cover instantly created a chill. The Salt Flats were a place of extremes.
Some areas were smooth, silky, cool and slightly spongy under my bare feet; a pleasure to walk on. Other areas were jagged and sharp, like coral. I couldn’t decide if the terrain felt post-apocalyptic or magical. The light was fantastic for photography. It was surreal and foreboding. Otherworldly.
Of course, I had to taste it. It was salty salt. Salt is antibacterial and anti-inflammatory. It is used medicinally and in countless religious rituals, symbolizing purification and abundance. Sharing scarce salt with dinner guests was once a symbol of wealth. I couldn’t help but think about these things as I wandered barefoot on millions of tons of salt, adding a sense of sacredness to the experience. I slept that night as if I had soaked for hours in an Epsom salt bath. I can’t figure out the healing properties of Salt Flats salt, but my unscientific experiment with a sample of one suggests there are similarities.
Utah is magical and I have barely begun to explore it. My Moonbeam suggests all the prayer centered in Salt Lake City is an important factor in the magic. That makes sense. I think the salt is part of the equation too. Saltwater offers more buoyancy, so it’s easier to float. It also seems to be more reflective, which offers unlimited potential for fun with a camera. I can hardly wait to further explore these aspects of Utah. I never dreamed I would be enamored with this element of Nature, but I am. I’ll go back in October with a salty to-do list. There are places to kayak within the flats. I want to float. I want to explore saltwater as a mirror. I’m in love.