Visitor impressed with beauty of Winter Games' locale

ALEX GOFF

Originally published Monday, February 18, 2002

After two days driving through the Northwest, and another 150 minutes driving from our hotel to the venue, and a bus ride, my son finally asked: "Are we there yet?"

It was an accomplishment in patience worthy of the Olympic Games.

We had made it, through Interstate 84 as it winds along the always impressive Columbia River, through the high veldt of Eastern Oregon and Southern Idaho, and finally into the snow-covered beauty of Northern Utah.

In the distance, the Wasatch Mountains loom ever larger, but never seem to get any closer. Their bases, obscured by fog, which is what you call it when the elevation is so high you're in the clouds, the mountains seem to float. And so do we ... perhaps from the anticipation, or maybe it's the 75 MPH speed limit.

In our room lie two postcards written by local elementary school students thanking us for coming. Banners all over thank travelers for making the trip. In this time of all times, the people who put on this party are glad we showed up.

"It makes me feel guilty for coming from just a couple of states over," Jennifer says. "I feel like I should have flown in from Stockholm."

Olympics, here we come. From Logan it's a short jaunt down to the venues. How short? Well, for the Two-Man Bobsled scheduled to start at 3 p.m., we will leave at 10 a.m. This is the "carpool, expect delays" Olympics. Or is it? The drive is in fact surprisingly quiet, and we're often the only car on the road. So the supposed traffic delays never materialize, and later a visitor from Reno tells me how he had rented out his Utah vacation home for the Olympics, only to have some tenants back out. So instead, he was at the games, buying tickets from the resale booth.

In the huge parking lot we're ready for winter. We're layered and wrapped. We have our bag of extra stuff (no food, and no backpacks). But then we look around. The sun is out, the lot is covered in mud, not snow, and there are more than a few backpacks breaking the rules. At the bobsled, as German Christoph Langen won by .09 of a second, and American Todd Hays was .03 seconds out of a medal, it becomes apparent that this is not the Olympics where nobody came. Utah Olympic Park welcomes 16,000 jostling, shouting, and politely partisan fans.

Among this brotherhood of Olympic fans in what has become a very successful games for the USA, talk has finally ceased about those Canadian figure skaters, and touches instead on Seattle's Apollo Ohno's crash and daring recovery for a silver. The Australians all over Park City are smiling because their man won the gold.

Our bus driver down from the mountain usually drives for the MBTA in Boston. He will retire after 30 years this July, and says this is a great way to end his career. As he drives us down, he points out a moose who has set himself up in the woods near the venue.

"He's saying y'all are just visitors," he said. "This is my home."

And what a home it is.

South Sound resident Alex Goff, who along with his family will be at the Olympics for the next four days, will write stories each day for The Olympian.

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