Antelope Island, Utah is a dreamscape
Top of our list of "hidden gems" this state park is a stunner
Antelope Island State Park is a surprising slice of nature set right in the middle of the Great Salt Lake in Utah. (Didn’t know the Great Salt Lake had a bunch of islands in it? Me neither!)
Mike had been told this state park was a good place to photograph birds and animals, and it was somewhat on our way “home” to California from Grand Teton, so we headed for it as we left the National Park.
Many hours later, as we drove into Syracuse, Utah, an urban sprawl bedroom community of Salt Lake City, it was hard to believe we were only twenty miles from wilderness. We stopped and ate tacos at a Mexican place near a Walmart.
“How could this park be any good?” I wondered aloud.
Mike shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We have to spend the night somewhere.” That’s a true reflection of how it gets, trailering. Drive long enough and you don’t care where you end up.
We followed Lady Google’s directions, passing through a nondescript suburban neighborhood lined with similar houses. “Unusual approach to a state park,” I said, as the GPS told us we were within a mile of the entrance. And then we turned through a gate with a cattle guard and modest signage and faced an arrow-straight causeway heading straight into a depthless reflective sea filled with every kind of bird.
“What. The. Heck?” I said aloud.
As we drove along the raised road leading to the faraway island,, it was as if we crossed over into another world. The air had a tang of salt and sulfur to it, and the lake shimmered, viscous and still. A vast blue sky arced overhead to merge seamlessly into the horizon, creating a sense of endless space.
And everywhere we looked were waterbirds: coots, stilts, ducks of every stripe and feather, geese and pelicans, black and white swans. In masses and flocks, millions of birds frolicked and fed around us as we drove, gathering before migration.
There's something about Antelope Island that gets all your senses humming—and I’m not just talking about the many gnats and flies we discovered hovering outside the camper after we set up. The park truly had a magical, otherworldly quality, especially when we arrived at the beginning of a long, dreamy sunset that was to last for hours.
Back in the mid-1800s, explorers like Frémont and Carson stumbled upon Antelope Island, naming it after the herds of pronghorns grazing the fifteen mile long by five mile wide stretch of land. Those antelope still roam wild, along with mule deer and bison.
The bison were brought over in the late 19th century, and now they lumber about in abundant herds, anachronistic hulking presences silhouetted against the ethereal shimmering of the lake.
Once we set up the trailer, agog at a bison bull overlooking our campsite from a bluff only a hundred yards away, we hopped in the SUV and rolled down the windows to do a lap around the small island.
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