Saturday morning. I was out driving around for work when I get a call from my good friend Mollie. Her contact picture is the same brace-faced smile I’ve had since we first became friends in our Sophomore year of high school. This weekend, in particular, she was spending at her Nana’s house in Ferron, aka Middle-of-Nowhere, UT. She asked me if I’d like to stay with them that night, so I obliged. I finished work and got ready to go on an almost three-hour-long road trip. I made some snacks (mini pancakes and roasted chickpeas), packed a bag, filled up my water bottle, and headed out. 

The drive was gorgeous. I drove through a snowy canyon with little traffic while blasting my road trip favorites. I munched on my snacks, sang my heart out, and got to pee on the side of the road right next to a giant snowcapped mountain. 

To get to Nana’s house, you drive in the canyon for about an hour, and then at some point, you turn off the highway and drive on a smaller road for another 30 minutes or so. Once I got off the highway, I lost all internet service and had no navigation. I called up Mollie, thinking that I was in town, just to discover that my journey was not complete. I hung my head in shame as I continued to drive for another 30 minutes. 

After my long drive, I rolled up to Nana’s in my Subie and was greeted with the love of five dogs and two people who feel more like family than friends. Nana’s house felt precisely like a grandma’s house should feel– it had old 70’s shag carpet, wood paneling on the walls, windows adorned with pink curtains, and a curio cabinet filled with old dishes and other various trinkets. There was a freshly baked cake on the table and soup bread in the oven—the house smelt exactly how a home should smell. Mollie gave me a tour, where I saw pictures of her family throughout the various life stages– including a printed out collage of her youngest brother resting on the couch arm for seemingly no other reason than to give us a good laugh. 

Once the home tour was concluded, we hopped into Mollie’s ride, and she began my private tour of Emery County. She showed me the house she lived in with her husband along with both his parent’s homes, the old church that they got married in, the library where she worked, the post office where she locked herself out of her car, and the playground she’s played on her entire life. We stopped by this cute little restaurant that served American classics like hamburgers and hot dogs. I settled on a grilled cheese that I dipped in fry-sauce, beer-battered fries, and a banana milkshake to dip the fries in. It was one of the best meals I’ve had from a restaurant in a while. 

We continued to drive around and ended up in Orangeville, the next town over, where she showed me the first apartment she lived in with Cory and her friends’ houses. Then we went one town over from there, Castle Dale, where she showed me her high school and the street her mom once lived on. While down this street, we ran into two dogs roaming freely down the road, and I gave one of them a couple of my fries in exchange for his love. 

Mollie and I drove around for hours, stopping by her favorite campsites and lookout points, and she showed me all the places that held meaning in her heart. I quickly understood that she had a lot of love for the area. 

We went back to Nana’s, and I whipped out my Sophomore yearbook so we could share stories and figure out where everyone was now. We discovered a gem in the back of the yearbook– an entire page of thoughts written by Mollie. We reminisced on the good ol’ days before life got crazy and eventually resided in the living room where we settled in for bed. There are two couches, and I ended up on the pullout bed, which ended up in a big dog cuddle puddle. Mollie and I talked for hours, eventually falling asleep around 4:30 in the morning. 

The next day I woke up at 9 to the movement of her dog getting out of bed, and I lay there for about an hour before getting up. We quickly got ready and then headed out for another day of sightseeing. We headed to Castle Dale, where we ate breakfast at a diner that lives inside a gas station. As crazy as it sounds, I had one of the best cups of coffee that I’ve had in a long time (although the flavor might have been enhanced by the exhaustion I was feeling).

After breakfast, we headed over to a strange graveyard for old Cadillacs adorned with painted doors urging us to vote. Across the street from this car, the cemetery was an old shed covered in license plates from around the country accompanied by a couple of rusted cars from the distant past. Seeing how much I enjoyed these installations, Mollie took me to another strange site– a replica of a 50’s gas station. It sat at the end of a neighborhood (coincidentally on Bowden Lane, my Mom’s family name) and was home to several vintage cars all in great condition, and a vintage kitchen with an ice cream bar and a milkshake machine. 

After our outing, we returned to Nana’s, where we visited with her grandma for a bit and munched on her delicious food. Eventually, we bid our farewells, saying goodbye to Nana and her precious puppies. 

The spontaneous trip was a great experience for me, as it allowed me to peek into the window of my friend’s life. I now understand why her heart belongs in Ferron– it’s a quiet town that isn’t held down by consumerist America, where everyone knows everyone. You gain a strong sense of community, something that I’ve never really experienced. It also doesn’t hurt that you can perfectly see the night sky as the area doesn’t experience light pollution, or any pollution at all. I had a fun time, and I look forward to revisiting the area with Mollie in the future. 

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