When you think of Utah, what comes to mind? If I donned my recreation hat, I immediately think of the big outdoor attractions—the Slickrock mountain bike trail in Moab, the towering monoliths of Zion National Park and some of the lowest moisture content powder snow in the world, snow that even rivals that of the Japanese island of Hokkaido. If I donned my cultural hat, I think of the Sundance Film Festival, a deep pioneering history and religious conservatism led by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Having never set foot in this landlocked U.S. state, the opportunity to explore a small part of Utah came this spring. The tourism board of Park City invited a group of journalists to explore the mountain biking offerings in the area. It was a loaded, three-day itinerary bookended with quick airport transfers to Salt Lake City International Airport. What could I possibly fit into 100 hours in and around Park City?
Arrival over the Great Salt Lake
Salt Lake City is a relatively quick two-hour flight from Vancouver, and I made sure to book the window seat for my first birds-eye view of the region. The aptly named Great Salt Lake is the largest saltwater lake in the Western Hemisphere and the namesake for Utah’s capital city. The shrinking body of water is bifurcated by a railroad causeway built in 1959, which I later learn has led to different salinity levels and different types of bacteria and algae growing on each side. This is why the north arm has a purple-pink hue and the south arm is more of the typical blue-green colour.
I keep an eye out for any remaining snow on the ridges, but the late June heat has reduced it to a few remaining white ribbons. While my mind wanders about how these mountains would look in February, I’m not here to ski. I’m here to sample a slice of Utah’s world-famous mountain biking, and maybe a few other fun things if I cram them into the next 100 hours. I land in Salt Lake City and jump on my airport transfer to Park City, wasting no time during my short visit.
Day 1 Wilderness Biking and Apple Wine Sipping
Our group picks up our rental bikes at White Pine Touring, the local Park City outfitter. A green 2025 Specialized Stumpjumper has a hang tag with my name on it and I’m glad I’ll be riding a bike quite familiar to my Sea to Sky daily driver. We load up the van and drive east for 30 minutes, passing through the small town of Kamas, where I spot a youth driving an oversized ATV down the side of the highway, ball cap on backwards and free as an eagle.
“This area deserves to have mountain biking,” says our guide Julie Salmi from the driver’s seat of the van. “It’s only been permitted by the US Forestry Service in the last four years. The powersports community is quite sizable here. The folks riding ATVs, side-by-sides and snowmobiles don’t want to lose any access on account of mountain bikers.”
We pull into the trailhead parking lot for the Slate Creek Trail and I step out into the mid-morning heat. The peaks and ridges of the Uinta Mountains are not as steep or prominent as what I’m used to in coastal B.C., but the stats are impressive. Castle Peak (3,103 metres) stands above us in the distance and I begin to feel the altitude as we set off from the trailhead at a respectable elevation of 2,150 m.
As a relatively new build, Slate Creek Trail was designed to be as accessible as possible. The grade of the climb never feels that steep, taking advantage of the contoured terrain for an almost leisurely climb over the next five kilometres. It’s the perfect ascent trail for the mix of abilities and fitness levels in our group, the guides finding the shadiest sections of trail to take breaks and regroup.
“This is the gateway to the Western Uintas,” says our other guide Scott House, who now works a senior role for Park City Chamber of Commerce, but occasionally enjoys coming out for a rock star shift as a mountain bike guide. “Slate Creek gives you that true backcountry feel of wilderness, but the trail here is built so well that anyone can have fun riding it.”
We drop into the descent trail, the rolling terrain contours making for fast flow riding. The trail is in surprisingly good condition given the June heat, my tires still getting great traction on the berms. The foliage opens up to reveal views of the stretching high desert valley below, but my eyes stay focused on the trail, searching for every fun side hit. Back at the parking lot, my watch gives me the stats of a 14.5-kilometre ride with 412 m of elevation gain. Not bad for a quick, single-loop sample of Uinta backcountry riding. Enthusiastic riders can easily treble that elevation gain with two other blue descent loops.
On our way back to Park City, we call in to a yet-to-open cidery by the name of Dendric Estate. Apples may be what they ferment here, everything from the fruit trees to the fermentation tanks looks like it’s been plucked from a European winery. Founders Brendan and Carly Coyle are creating a unique type of cider by balancing acids and tannins with dryness, very different from traditional sweet ciders. The still liquid they offer us is more reminiscent of a classy Sauvignon Blanc than any cider I’ve ever tried.
Day 1 summary: fruitful.
Day 2 Dipping a toe in Deer Valley
Deer Valley Resort has a reputation as one of the most affluent ski hills in North America, and perhaps the world. While many luxury resorts in the U.S. can similarly boast their own hives of hillside mansions that locals jokingly refer as a “10-10-10 build” (10,000 square feet, purchased for $10 million, vacant for 10 months of the year), Deer Valley’s commitment to the premium skier experience is legendary among the West Coast elite. Snowboarders are still not allowed to ride here, and daily ticket sales are capped to ensure manageable lift-line waits. The quality of grooming is a point of pride, matched only by the highest level of customer service towards its guests.
But what of the summer? Among its more mainstream activities like hiking, Deer Valley Resort has one of the biggest bike parks in Utah with about 1,000 vertical metres and just under 100 km of trails, ranging from old-school tech to fast-flowing jumps and berms, a handful designed by none other than Whistler’s trail consultancy Gravity Logic. The resort is in a period of rapid expansion, with seven new chairlifts scheduled to open for the 2025-26 season.
That busy construction and development unfortunately means a closure of upper-mountain lifts and trails, so our group happily settles for a lower-mountain sampler. The signature flow experience is a high-speed blue trail called Regulator, and with my experience riding the Whistler Mountain Bike Park together with the familiar Gravity Logic design, I feel right at home and I’m clearing most jumps on the first run. To mix it up, on the next lap our guide takes us down Devo for some old-school World Cup Downhill flavour.
The rock gardens are sharp, the trail narrow and the hairpin turns tight, requiring all the technical line choice I can muster. We dust ourselves off for lunch, our pads and jerseys seeming out of place on the patio at the famed Stein Eriksen Lodge. The Deer Valley hospitality does not disappoint, and we’re welcomed in our dirty bike gear just like any other high-end guest.
Day 2 summary: warm biking, warmer welcomes.
Day 3 Fly fishing the Provo and Savouring the Summit
For the third day of activities, our group gets to choose between another day of riding bike park (this time at Woodward, about 20 minutes south of Park City), or try our hand at fly-fishing. The skate park-inspired flow trails and jump lines at Woodward are tempting, but having never fished a river in my life, I opt for the latter. I’m reassured the half-day of fly-fishing is fully guided by Jans (the local fly-fishing outfitter in Park City), so I don’t have to worry about spending my morning as a clueless never-ever in a new sport.
Our guide is Tom White, a retired firefighter from California who now works as a realtor in Park City. Having fly-fished since his youth, he sort of fell into this part-time guiding job after walking into the fly shop at Jans a few years ago. On the drive out to the Provo River through the Heber Valley, White points out the many new housing developments.
“This was supposed to be the affordable-housing solution for Park City, but not anymore,” he says. “All these developments are banking on Deer Valley’s resort expansion, and proximity to another ski hill base just keeps driving the prices up.”
During the drive, I explain to White the model of the Whistler Housing Authority, which piques his interest as a realtor. He mentions Park City’s municipal government offers a similar program, though it’s restricted to lower-income and lower-net-worth households. I later learn Park City currently has 674 deed-restricted units (69 per cent rental and 31 per cent owner-occupied), which is a far cry from Whistler’s total 3,800 units.
As we approach the Provo River the conversation quickly turns back towards fishing. It’s Saturday morning, and our group isn’t exactly catching the proverbial worm. But our knowledgeable guide steers us towards a quiet spot on the banks where they know there’ll be “guaranteed opportunities” to catch a fish.
Dressed in waders and shouldering a fly rod, I follow White shin-deep into the river. He deftly ties a nymph (a hooked fly lure that mimics the larvae-stage of aquatic insects that float at or just below the surface of the water), a tiny set of weights to keep the nymph submerged and an indicator ball, which will bob below the surface if I have a potential catch. White walks me through the casting techniques and the methods to make them appear as natural as possible as it floats down river.
“If it moves too fast, the fish will know something’s up,” he says as he demonstrates an expert cast. “Keep your line in the slower lanes of the river, closer to the edge. Good luck!”
After about 20 minutes of practice and working my way up the river’s lanes, I get a bite. White shouts orders to reel in when my rod is slack and hold when my rod is bent, patiently tiring the fish out. I see the fish surface and White nets it. With a bit of help and guidance, I’ve taken my first tiny, splashy steps into the world of fly-fishing.
For our final evening, we join our hosts on Park City’s iconic Main Street, a central boulevard of flagship outdoor apparel stores, luxury fashion, restaurants and of course, real estate brokerages. Tonight it’s all closed off to vehicle traffic for Savor the Summit, a culinary celebration where the town’s top restaurants push their tables into the middle of Main Street for perhaps Utah’s longest long table dining experience.
Park City’s locals are out in force, wine is flowing and the food somehow gets better with every course. Live music resonates from the stage at the bottom of the hill as the sun dips below the mountains on the horizon, the sky flaring a similar shade of pink to the northern arm of Great Salt Lake. This really takes the concept of an outdoor dinner party to a whole other level, and it’s the perfect cap to my 100 hours in and around Park City.
Day 3 Summary: fresh experiences, new friends.
On my flight home the next morning I realize these 100 hours were but a scratch on the surface of Park City and its surrounding valleys. There are hundreds more trails to explore, dozens more rivers to fish and no shortage of good food and friendly people. I see myself returning again for bikes, though I may choose a cooler month to avoid getting cooked in the high desert heat. And that winter powder probably deserves a look, too.
Vince Shuley travelled to Utah as a guest of Mountain Biking Park City.
