Memorable Things To Do In Park City Utah

Category Archives: Travel/Outdoors

72 Hours (and Change) in Palm Desert

Jill Adler 2 comments

It was a family affair. My brother Joey was taking his family to Palm Desert – 30 minutes southeast of Palm Springs- in the Coachella Valley, Calif., to sit in on some timeshare chat at the Westin Desert Willows. For $350, he’d get four nights’ lodging and Starwood points. My mom already has Starwood timeshare weeks so she booked herself and Dad into a neighboring two-bedroom unit at the Willows and invited us to join in the fun. The temps in Utah were hovering around 40; it was 90 in Palm Springs so we grabbed the swimsuits with pleasure.

Off to the California desert we trucked. We pitstopped about six hours into the drive, sleeping at the Virgin River Casino in Mesquite, Nev. For $27, we bedded down in a clean, pet-friendly double-queen, QUIET room, slept soundly and got back on the road at 10 a.m. after recording a quick audition. There’s a web series casting in Utah and even on vacation I still want the work.

We stopped for an over-priced but satisfying breakfast at Webster’s Sports Bar that cost us an extra hour of drivetime because of the slow -yet warm, friendly service- but it beats eating eggs in a smoky casino.

We rolled into the Westin at 4 p.m., dropped off the luggage, said hello to my parents and dove in the pool. A total of 10 hours spent in the Cherokee.

By 6 p.m., we were dressing to visit my Mom’s long-time friend Sandy who had purchased a gorgeous golf-estate so she could transition out of Beverly Hills.

Dinner was at Ruth Chris. I’m not particularly psyched on dining at chains when on vacation but it was one of the few places happy to accommodate a party of 11.

Night came and although I was exhausted, the Harley like rumble of the AC was ridiculously annoying.

DAY 1

Our first official day in Palm Desert started with audition taping. Both Sage and I had clips dues before noon and boy was Sage angry. All she wanted to do was play in the pool with Cousin Tess and here she was working. Tough. I cut her loose at 10 a.m. finished my own project with Ryan’s help and met my brother and his family at the pool for lunch and cocktails.

The $10 margaritas dropped to $5 at 4 p.m. so we stayed till then, had a drink and went back to the room to shower and change for take and bake pizza and salad from Wal-Mart. I love staying at places with kitchens. Dining out is fun and tasty but it’s such a production. Much better to hang back with everyone and cook a few nights.

After dinner Ryan and I snuck away to check out the weekly Villagefest in downtown Palm Springs. Every Thursday night vendors, artists, entertainers, and produce growers set up booths along Palm Canyon Drive. It’s like Park City’s Sunday Silly Market except it’s only open from 6 p.m. until 10 p.m. We finished the night with blueberry mojitos on the patio of the Hyatt Palm Springs while listening to a couple of talented performers sing and dance to current covers.

Day 2

Aunt Stacey took the girls (Sarah, Tess and Sage) to get manicures and a movie (Jungle Book), Mom shopped for Passover dinner and Joey, Ryan and I checked out the Palm Springs Tramway. Built in 1963 the two-car scenic adventure charges $25 to whisk locals and tourists 8500 feet out of the desert heat for an afternoon in the mountains with 500 miles of hiking around Mt San Jacinto State Park. It took helicopters some 23,000 missions over two years to create the five towers and the 35,000 sq. ft. Mountain Station. Engineers labeled it the “Eighth Wonder of the World.”

Gotta say the rotating floor made this way cooler than the Snowbird Tram.

We hiked a leisurely 4-mile loop, passing snowy swatches at the upper- most tiers, exchanging nods with several international foreigners with walking sticks. The 60-degree temperature was a cool relief to the 90-degree valley below.

We stopped at Great Shakes in Palm Springs on the way home because of a craving and Yelp reviews. Thanks, my Peeps, you didn’t steer my wrong. Thick mint Oreo shake with a mini donut circling the straw. As Vincent Vega said, “I don’t know if it’s worth $5 but it’s pretty fucking good.”

We were back in time to shower before the family Passover dinner courtesy of Gelson’s deli counter. We chilled, drank wine, dined on matzoh ball soup and brisket and bonded over James Lipton’s ten questions. It’s weird for me to travel long distances only to chill. I guess I’m not a good vacationer. I like to get out and do as much as possible and see as much as I can in whatever time I’ve got. This crowd is a poolside, lounge chair, sipping-adult-beverages crew. Working office jobs puts you in that mindset I guess.

Day 3

Still not sleeping well. Damn air conditioner. The mattress, linens and pillows facilitate the dreamstate but that god-awful sound takes a machete to all that. Ear plugs on my next trip. I scrounged up the energy for a power shower and we all met at the tiny El Paseo Grill. The breakfast menu isn’t extensive at the counter-service café but the scramble with cheese, tomatoes, broccoli, and grilled breakfast potatoes did the trick.

We said our good-byes to Uncle Joey, Aunt Stacey, Cousin Tessa and Sarah and drove to the Desert Hills Outlet Mall for one of the most intense shopping experiences I’ve ever seen. Nothing beats a sale on the sale stuff and there are 180 stores to choose from! Not to mention the selection in California beats the fashion sense in Utah.

Six hours later, we headed to Las Consuelas Terraza in Palm Springs for beef fajitas with my parents. The place has an authentic feel with the delicate sounds of live Mariachi music floating through the large, enclosed courtyard but we moved inside to the darkly lit, tiled dining hall to avoid the evening heat. The fresh chips and salsa and margs were a satisfying start after a long day without lunch but I was a bit disappointed with the rest- a handful of squash nuggets, one broccoli bit and palm-sized pile of beef strips.

We drove the 20 minutes back to the Westin, fat and tired. A late night challenge match on the tennis court – Sage and me against Ryan took us up to 10 p.m. and lights out- literally, the court went black.

Time for another night I knew would be rough. And that was that. We were leaving in the morning. Sad to leave the sun and warmth of family but soon I would be back in my own bed. Back to the cold temps, the fresh snow and pines instead of palms, and a good night’s sleep.

Family

Don’t Ski Alone; Ski Alta

Jill Adler 5 comments

If you hate skiing alone, you can’t be shy. I had the ultimate dilemma today. None of my friends could come out to play. It was a Tuesday; a work day for most and forecasters had called Wednesday the day to catch the Powder Flu; not today. Yet the 7 a.m. SkiUtah report touted 16 inches of new snow. The Cottonwood Canyon resorts finally reached over an 100″ base. You see, I couldn’t miss a day like today just because I didn’t have anyone to ski with.

Often I lack motivation so if no one wants to ski, I stay home. But not on a serious powder day. Alta it was. The reason I chose Alta and the reason I choose that resort every time I ski alone is because I’m alone for about one run.

My friend Rachael jokes that I picked her up on the Collins Lift. I also met a good friend, Brad, one year in Catherine’s, and my fellow Parkite Sarah was cruising off Wildcat. Ten years later we still ski together; we also yard sale in the summer, go to dinner, and chat on Facebook. But it’s a Tuesday and no one was available. (Although they should be.)

As I pulled into the Rustler Lodge parking lot my anticipation for fresh tracks was growing along with the size of my bladder. I desperately needed a bathroom. It’s easy to make a pit stop without irritating your friends when you start your day by yourself. Soon, I was riding the Collins lift and looking around for other singles. One woman was heading in to chef at the Collins Grill. Another guy had one run before he too had to get back to work. No takers from the first chair ride so it was time to ski. I knew it would be great in Eagle’s Nest. Halfway down, there they were three ladies whooping it up and charging hard. Turns out their fearless leader -Susan Hagen- is a part-time instructor at Alta and the other two gals used to work up on the mountain in the old Watson Shelter. It was now or never. We were all panting and praising the 900 vertical we had just chewed up, with another 900 or so to come, below us. I said, “Hey, can I join you?” Only at Alta is the answer “yes” 100 percent of the time.

There’s something unique about this classic big mountain area located in the rear of Little Cottonwood Canyon. It holds the soul of skiers past and present – you never really feel alone in the first place. No other place in the Wasatch feels this communal. Singles skiing at other resorts seem to have an agenda and they are not to be bothered. At Alta, they’re happy to share their turns with strangers.

For the next two hours, we followed Susan through Regal Chute (twice), Eagle’s Nest, North Rustler and finally a hike up to the High Notch. The fresh snow was bottomless in most areas. It was tracked out quickly but still pillowy and forgiving. I made five runs, 8800 vertical, in two hours- including the hike. The peer factor. These ladies made me ski harder than I would if I was skiing with Ryan and definitely harder than if I was alone. Had that been the case I probably would have meandered down two runs and called it. This morning was filled with spirit, laughter, smiles, burning thighs and deep breaths as we carved up the deep spring powder that was both untracked and soft crud. At noon my new posse headed in. I waved goodbye but not before I got everyone’s last name and said I’d find them on Facebook. I wondered if they’ll be back on the hill tomorrow. If not I’ll just have to go back to Alta to make more ski buddies.

Winter Glamping and Gear For Cool Comfort

Jill Adler 3 comments

My job really sucks sometimes. January is here and that means a slew of events that I just have to attend. The Outdoor Retailer Show (OR 2016), Sundance Film Festival and the SIA ski show in Denver, Colo., to call out the majority.

There is also teaching at Canyons over Martin Luther King weekend. Between OR moving their dates up by two weeks to accommodate retail buyers, and Sundance pushing back their first weekend to accommodate Park City ski tourism, I’m “forced” to do it all instead of having to choose. Oh, lucky me. Oh boo hoo, right? When SMAK PR and Allied Feather and Down invited me to a preview winter glamping event do you think I considered saying no?

Not one to miss an opportunity, I said yes and hopped on a Scott fat bike to begin my afternoon of adventure.

Starting Your Winter Glamping Adventure

Scott bought us all lunch at Park City Bread and Bagel to make sure we had the fuel for our ride on the snow-packed, East Canyon Ranch Road, just past the Jeremy Ranch Golf Course in Park City. I’ve never ridden a fat bike in the winter time and in general I’m not much of a biker so I was curious to see how sketchy it would be.

To my delight I had just the right number of layers to stay warm and the tires had just enough nubs to keep me upright. We rode for about an hour out and back, and the dog finally got the exercise he needed.

He was in heaven and it dawned on me that if ever there were a place to rent fat bikes it would be a great winter activity for us. Unfortunately the shops in Park City put away their bike gear in October and haul out the ski gear; never the twain shall meet. At least not yet.

When we wrapped up, we drove to East Canyon State Park to commence glamping. Deer dotted the landscape as the light waned on our snow-covered site near Henefer. I had no idea these yurts even existed.

The potbelly stoves were blazing and ample beds dressed with Allied down pillows and comforters provided the ultimate luxury winter camping stay. I would have fallen asleep right then had not the gourmet table been set and the cask uncorked.

Farm to table food was coming at us rapid fire, prepared by Allied’s own creative director and former sous chef Matthew Betcher you quickly forgot you were in a state park in Utah.

The Gear For Winter Glamping

The best part of the evening (aside from curling up in a responsibly sourced down comforter) is getting hands-on playtime with new products and gear:

Farm to Feet adventure hiking socks– 100-percent American-made socks with seamless toe closures.

Uco headlamps– a simple, lightweight non-bulky headlamp that burns an adjustable 120 lumens.

Outdoor Research beanies –

Light My Fire MealKit 2.0

A killer flask setup from Stanley

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An Allied Down throw (with a Track My Down QR code to see where my particular group of feathers came from and how it got to me) doubles as a seat cushion to keep our bums warm.

Helly Hansen balaclava, and YakTrax to keep us from slipping in the parking lot.

We retired to our yurts to play with our new toys. Eventually, it was lights out. I slept like a baby until the howling of distant coyotes wrestled me at 3 a.m. I donned the Uco headlamp and stumbled to the bathrooms to return unable to sleep. As I lay wide-eyed and staring at the bottom of the upper bunk I wasn’t frustrated.

Instead, I cherished the quiet night in the wilderness and my brief moment of stolen time before the chaos began. It was then I realized that ultimately this is what the OR Show is all about; giving us the tools for nights just like this.

Travel: Day 2 Snowmobile Heaven at Togwotee Mountain Lodge

Jill Adler One comment

Photos by Whitney Lewis Photography

Our guides warned us that backcountry snowmobiling is not a walk in the park. I inwardly wondered how hard it could really be sitting on an ultra-plush, cushioned seat for three hours as we zoomed along the wooded trails of Togwotee Lodge’s Teton-Bridger National Forest ; maybe my thumb would feel the strain from holding down the throttle?

But what they do at Togwotee Mountain Lodge is not the nose-to-rear guided riding you do at most resort outfitters. This is off-piste, powder plunging and exploration in a 2.5 million-acre spread. The reason people return annually to Togwotee is because there’s no other place in North America that can provide the gear, the guides, the lodging, the food, the bar, hot tub and the terrain for serious snowmobiling all in one spot. That’s about 9000 riders a season. There are other locations that do a decent job (Daniel Summit and Bear River Lodge in Utah to name a couple) but none on this scale. TML has 54 individual, pet friendly cabins, six family bunkrooms, a 28-room lodge, 25-30 guides and a fleet of top of the line sleds from Skidoo and Polaris. “Togwotee offers such diversity in terrain and snow accumulation,” said Derek Thompson, TML’s marketing director. “Everyone from beginner to expert can enjoy this prestigious area. Whether you’re looking for amazing views, miles of groomed trails or over-the-hood powder in the backcountry; Togwotee has it.”

Photo by Jill Adler

Togwotee’s Roots

The Lodge started as a family operation in 1926 and witnessed the heyday of snowmobiling in the 90s when every family had their own sleds. As the economy and optimal weather slept so did the sport; and so a generation was lost. The Lodge fell under the Aramark brand in 2008. The National Park concessionaire known for food and hospitality services, however, seems to let TML function more like a charming, family establishment rather than some cookie-cutter, corporate-run hotel and according to those who come every year, the sport is experiencing a sort of renaissance as the machines have gotten lighter, faster, more ecologically friendly and are able to take on extreme terrain like never before. Now more females, families and younger kids (13 and up) are coming for big mountain riding. “If you ride in Yellowstone it’s like riding a moped in a museum,” said Will, our TML guide. “We’re trying to separate ourselves from others. This is a ‘next level’ riding clinic, to prepare people for the backcountry.”

Photo by Jill Adler

Unsure of what that really meant, we wandered into the meeting/social hall at the Lodge ready for anything at the crack of 9:30 a.m. The pacing for this beginner program is spot on if you ask me. Even if you’re taking a course of some sort you still want to get vacation time and that means sleeping in. We packed a ton of food with plans to cook in our cabin and have an even later morning start but when we heard breakfast, happy hour and dinner were included in the package you could bet we’d be skipping the Tator Tots and bacon for the breakfast buffet with made-to-order eggs and fresh fruit and coffee to fuel up for riding.

Photo by Jill Adler

Getting Schooled

The Lodge asked beforehand about our snowmobiling experience so they could gauge the lesson plan but with relatively zero riding time in our collective group of four it was all about the basics. This was not the place to claim you are an expert and find yourself launching a 50-foot cornice. The snowmobiling season lasts through the end of March. There’s plenty of time to get to that level if you’re really into it. Today would start with a two-hour chat about safety, gear, what we need to think about “out there”. Apparently, the machines these days can ride in infinitely deep snow if you know how to handle them and with two days coming. The plan was to challenge ourselves with the terrain and techniques to get us out exploring with confidence.

Photo by Jill Adler

We talked about the snowmobiles and what they can do, the gear we should have when we get out and the fitness level we ought to achieve and the expectation of standing, not sitting, during the entire ride. After the chat, we had bison burgers in the bar and saddled up.

I was #1. Haha. We rode a groomed trail along the highway before crossing under it. It snowed lightly; not enough yet to cover up the early season twigs, dirt and rocks that peppered our lower-elevation path. But when reached a clearing, the knee-deep powder field was exactly what we needed to practice steering, turning, leaning (into the turn) and a variety of stances to help achieve a solid arc. Emily rolled her sled and we assisted in righting it. My thumb slipped off the throttle several times, sending me sideways to “kiss the hood” or into the snow. Luckily this isn’t mountain biking. I laughed hard instead of cried.

The Road Home

By the time we retreated for home I was sweating and already 10 times more confident in my maneuvering and stance. Some of my weight-shifting even felt, dare I say, second nature. We pulled into the rental shop parking only to be waved off and told the sleds were ours to hang onto until the end of the weekend! We rode straight to the cabin, grabbed the pooch to give him his own exercise in a snow-covered parking lot nearby. Not once did I feel as if I was ‘faking it,’ riding on my own.

The Lodge seemed empty this morning but by the time we rolled in for happy hour the sausage fest (as local females refer to the abundance of males) emerged. The Lodge provides everything from lessons and guided rides to unguided corporate retreats. The other group this weekend consisted of professional riders mostly from the Denver area. And they sure were happy to see a little estrogen in the bar. But that’s a different story…

Photo by Jill Adler

Adventure

Travel: Day 1 Togwotee Mountain Lodge Lures Utahns

Jill Adler 2 comments

Photos by Whitney Lewis Photography

We’re in the middle of everywhere. That’s what Togwotee stands for and that’s just where we wound up- one hour from Jackson Hole, 16 miles from Grand Teton National Park and 49 miles from the South Gate of Yellowstone National Park. And in the middle of everywhere there’s winter; five hours north of dry Park City.

Utah’s early season snow is crawling in under the radar. Even the town of Jackson, Wyo., looks hurting for a white Christmas but with Togwotee’s (pronounced Toe-gah-tee) reputation for consistent December snow we didn’t hesitate to roadtrip.

The invite to attend the newly launched Learn-to-Snowmobile program was all I needed to rally. They wouldn’t host this weekend if there wasn’t enough snow, right?

This weekend, instead of skiing, I’m going to horrify my backcountry buddies. I’m going to get on a 600cc snowchewing machine and haul ass in the wilderness. Seeing as how we Parkites are shy on snow this second weekend in December, it was quite the time to pick up a new skill.

As we winded our way north out of Jackson Hole, however, I felt mildly anxious. Where was all of this snow I had heard about? The evening sky hid any white. Nothing reflected off my headlights. I kept my thoughts to myself. No need to hypothesize on what we would do at a snowmobile lodge if there was no snow. Whitney was wide-eyed and excited for an extreme adventure. Who was I to cast doubts solely based on dirt embankments at 7,000 feet. We were heading to 9,000 feet.

We pulled into the Lodge and entered another realm. It’s winter up here. The snow crunched angrily under our steps as if to say go away you don’t belong here. But the grand welcome at the front desk said otherwise. We were handed the keys to our kingdom- a stand-alone log cabin in the woods- preheated with queen beds readymade for a soft landing.

While Takoda relished the white stuff, Whitney and I settled in, unpacking groceries (the cabins have kitchenettes) and laying out our next day’s clothing layers before finally saying good night. I quickly fell silent; finding my happy place among rustic cabins embedded in rolling mounds of snow. Tomorrow the adventure begins.

Adventure

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