Tracks Through Time
In the fall of 1824, Étienne Provost followed the river’s whisper into the high basin we now call Heber Valley—a place that seemed untouched, even to a man who’d lived beyond the edges of maps. Frost on the grass caught the early-winter light, the kind that announces the season has already made up its mind. […]
Dream Like a River, Build Like You Mean It
In the spring of 1862, the Provo River charged through the valley like it owned the place-because, truth be told, it did. Flooded with snowmelt, it ran loud, fast, and full of unstoppable purpose. There were no bridges back then, no warning signs or detours—just water carving its path, indifferent to anything in its way. […]