Merriam-Webster defines inexorable as “not to be persuaded, stopped, or moved; relentless.”
(Yeah, I went there. Just go with it.)
This word has been on my mind a lot lately. I don’t know exactly why — and that’s a lie if I ever told one. I’ve got this phrase stuck in my head, “The inexorable march of time.”
I’ve spent my entire life going on drives and trips with my family, looking out the window and feeling my heart leap at the sight of abandoned homes and wondering about the people who once lived in them even though those weren’t really homes at all, usually they were just sheds. My favorite stories were always about discovering secret ruins or ancient treasure — not for fame but for the knowledge that you had seen something nobody else ever had.
And now I’m 27. I own a truck with four-wheel drive. I have a job and a smartphone with GPS. You see where this is going.
When I was 16, I was on an expedition with my family and some scientists from BYU and I found a cliffside engraving dated in the 1700s and written in Spanish. I took a photo with my phone, but it was 2007 and that phone is long gone. I don’t even know how to begin to find information about this marker online and it’s killing me.
The thought of all this history, all those lives, just fading away into nothingness breaks my heart. I get the same feeling when I read or watch Lord of the Rings. There’s just so much to do, so much to see…
(“So what’s wrong with taking the backstreets? You’ll never know if you don’t go!”)
So that’s what I’m going to do this summer. I’m going to see these places. Me and my truck with 4WD, six CDs, and no air conditioner. (Hopefully, that last bit will change before the summer is over.)
A few weeks ago, I went to Eureka, UT, with some of my little siblings. It was beautiful and old and sad. So many of the historic buildings on Main Street were abandoned and all I could do was imagine what it must have been like when each building was a functioning restaurant or office or clothing store.
But at least I got to see them before they were reclaimed by Mother Earth — or worse, by developers.
Before you go, enjoy these snapshots from my May 5 trip to Eureka. And hopefully it doesn’t take me a month to write about the next trip!