The Oquirrh Travel Journal · Entry No. 001
Local Roots,
Global Adventures
We grew up thirty minutes from Park City, chasing the long way home. This is where we tell you why.
It started with the Wasatch Front and a full tank of gas.
I grew up on the Wasatch Front, close enough to Park City that a mountain was never more than half an hour away. Summers meant camping in the Cottonwood Canyons and the Uinta Mountains — tents, campfires, and a family that never took the interstate when a backroad would do.
Some of those trips were weekend getaways. Some were week-long hauls through Utah’s national parks. A few were cross-country marathons in a packed car. Like the time we drove Route 66 with the whole family. Every one of them had a rule: always find the stop nobody planned for.
The tradition, carried forward
Now my wife and I do it with our own kids.
The car is different, but the rule hasn’t changed. We’ve watched our kids fall asleep under desert stars, run themselves ragged through national and state parks, meet their heroes at Disneyland, and crane their necks at the New York City skyline.
Turns out the thing my parents taught me still holds: the best part of the trip is almost never the part you planned.
That’s what this whole thing is about.
Oquirrh Travel came out of a family that genuinely loves to go — and loves helping other families figure out where to go next. This journal is where we’ll share the trips, the detours, the stops worth pulling over for, and a little more about who we are. We’ve also put together the travel tips that guide every trip we plan. Welcome. We’re glad you’re here.