by Sarah Miley

STAFF WRITER

My favorite part of my drive to work to Tooele is getting to pass the Great Salt Lake. Driving along I-80 and the lake's southern shoreline, I love looking out over the water at sunrise and sunset -- times I am often on the road -- with the purple, pink and yellow hues in the sky.

Lately, it seems I've been entertaining thoughts of the lake in my head. Last week I attended the sixth annual Great Salt Lake Audubon Society Gala. During a presentation by Don Paul, Great Basin bird conservation region coordinator for the Intermountain West Joint Venture -- a partnership of public and private entities working to conserve bird habitat -- those in attendance learned about the vast variety of birds who use the lake, especially during their migrations. We learned about the global importance of the lake and the characteristics that make it unique. That night, I was surrounded by all kinds of people who had an interest in the lake and what happens to it in the future. Until lately, it had never really occurred to me that what happens at the Great Salt Lake affects hundreds of thousands of birds from all over the world.

About a month ago, I had the opportunity to visit Stansbury Island and walk around the site of an interpretive natural history center that organizers hope to have complete by spring. When complete, the center will have informational kiosks describing the lake levels and history of the island and lake. As I looked over the water and walked in the white beach-like sand, I was told about the floods of the '80s. Huge pieces of wood and debris from the trestle are still there, disheveled on the shore after being flung by the waves.

I went to the Antelope Island Balloon Stampede a few weeks ago. As we were driving across the causeway, my dad reminded me of another occasion when we were driving home from Antelope Island. It was in the late-1980s and the lake level was high. We were in a storm and the wind was gusting so hard it caused huge waves to lap up against our car. I was terrified. We ended up being one of the last cars off the island before the causeway was totally flooded and stayed closed for years.

When I was younger, my family would camp out on Antelope Island. I remember swimming in the lake -- something that is gross but should be done at least once -- and having red, itchy bumps all over my body from mosquitos attacking me wherever my clothes didn't cover.

My sister recently told me of a time when she and my brother were kayaking from Antelope Island to Bird Island. The name of their destination probably should have made them realize what they were getting themselves into, but it didn't and the closer they got to the island, the more birds would fly over them and swoop down.

She kept telling my brother, "Paddle faster, faster, faster."

It seems quite a few of my childhood memories involve the lake in some way. And although I didn't necessarily appreciate the history and uniqueness of the lake when I was younger, as I've grown older I've come to realize it is a natural wonder.

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