Before Sundance, A River Ran Through It

Although it may seem like it, Robert Redford isn’t the only Utahan to support President Clinton’s decision to declare a large area of southern Utah a national monument. Several of my environmentalist friends and I celebrated the recent announcement with events ranging from tree spiking to gas tank sugaring to truck tire flattening.

Although the chainsaw smash was mired when a flying piece of metal whacked Windflower in the forehead, the injury wasn’t serious and we all agreed that we should continue on our planned tour of Redford’s Sundance resort.

“It’s a good thing Robert Redford owns this mountain,” I said as I shifted down to climb the last slope. “It’s one of the most beautiful spots on earth. I think it’s every bit as pretty as those canyon lands Mr. Redford has pushed so hard to preserve. Can you imagine what would have happened to Sundance if some big corporation owned it?”

There was no answer to that awful rhetorical question.

Now it had been some years since I had been to Sundance, and I drove right past the entrance before I realized my mistake and slammed on the brakes. That made a guy behind us in a Mercedes very mad and he honked and gestured and yelled profanities till we began to wonder if it was Orrin Hatch.

After he and two lumber trucks went around us, we backed up and there standing by the entrance was a guy, around 30, wearing Ray-Bans and a Sundance sweater.

“Hi there,” I said. “I’m lost.”

“Whatcha looking for?”

“I got a friend who has a cabin up here. The Somersby cabin? I thought I knew the way, but I couldn’t even find the entrance.”

“Yeah I saw that. It’s been a while, huh? They moved that years ago. Knocked a path through the trees and brush over there, filled the old one in, and then over there they built a general store over the top of that creek.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” I laughed. “I thought I was going crazy. Do you know the Somersby cabin?”

“Somersby,” he mused. “I’m not familiar with that name. But then there are so many new ones.”

“Well, it’s up by Stewart Falls,” I suggested. “How do I get there?”

“See that bulldozer?” He pointed up past the restaurant.

“Which one? The one sitting there or the one up higher knocking down trees?”

“The one sitting there.”

“OK,” I said, finally getting my bearings. “I remember now, that new ski lift threw me off. You turn on an old dirt road.”

“No a new oil road. They put that in when they built all those condos up the hill.”

“Condos?”

“Oh yeah, they’re really popular. Booked solid year round with corporate retreats and stuff. Matter of fact, I hear they’re planning on building a bunch more.”

“Hmm. OK, so I turn left by the D-9 Cat?”

“Well not exactly there, you go a little past. See that big pool in the creek?”

“Hey, yeah, and there’s a sculpture right in the center. Look at that, you guys.”

“Yeah,” Sundance sweater said. “We’re very proud of that. Used to run pretty fast through there so what we did was flatten out that whole area with a backhoe and made a real nice little pool. Well, anyhow, go past there until, well, see that big tall cabin sticking up way above the tree line?”

“Oh sure, how could I miss it?”

“It’d be hard. It’s 12,000 square feet and they’ve got a swimming pool.”

“Is that right?” I said.

“Sir, there’s a concrete truck waiting behind you. Why don’t you pull over to the side?”

“Oh, that’s OK. You’ve been more than helpful. If we need more help, we’ll ask that guy working up there with the chain saw.”