Skip to main content

FEATURED

Long Overdue Gumption

Am I satisfied?  Am I comfortable?  Am I too comfortable?  Alright... am I happy?  Ruminating over the pathway to finding the answers to those questions seems healthy. Always questioning the decisions you make so that you are situating yourself to be in the best possible version you can be seems therapeutic.  Smelling the sweet scent of reality comes with an internal conflict.  I've made the adult decision to take care of myself for once. I've made this decision many times before, but half-heartedly followed through. In the past, I tended to run away from issues — avoiding phone calls and ignoring emails. I always found an escape route, dropped a grenade down the hole, closed it, and walked away, neglecting the unresolved problems.  I could have continued this way, but to be honest, I am afraid. I've played a risky game my entire life, but I don't think this new world will continue to accommodate me if I keep this up. We all have aspirations, whether t...
Read more

Shooting Star Saloon

A Sunday reset should involve a winding canyon road, higher elevation, a draft beer, and a truly messy burger. There's a small gem tucked into the mountains overlooking Ogden, and it’s been there since 1879. Making the drive out of the way for a 1 p.m. lunch at the Shooting Star Saloon should be a ritual for anyone looking for a real throwback to the good days.

Cash only. Five food items are on the menu. That’s how it should be. It’s not about the drink; it’s about the experience.

The classic jukebox caters only to those who appreciate real songwriting — Johnny Cash, folk legends, and the kind of music that furthers your conversations. There aren’t many places like the Shooting Star Saloon, nor should there be.

Their signature Star Burger stacks two lean patties around Polish knackwurst and melted cheese — the perfect match for their house Hefeweizen.

The interior is a collage of taxidermy oddities, the most notable being a wolf-like creature rigged to breathe through its own ass. The ceiling is drowning in dollar bills, packed so tight it seems they’re running out of space.

It’s a simple establishment, but one of the truest watering holes you'll ever find. A proper break between runs at Snowbasin. It has an aura that can’t be replicated.

The lone bartender treats you like a long-lost friend. Pulling out your phone almost feels rude, as if the walls themselves reject the intrusion of the modern world. A place that reminds you that some things are better left untouched.