As the token Utahn on HHW, may I say I spent many an idyllic summer in and around Logan (especially Bear Lake) as a child.
While lugging my tribe (wife, three kids, 1 cat 5 kittens packed into an Opel station wagon) cross country from San Diego to the East Cost I decided to visit the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. We left SLC at dusk on less than a quarter tank, thinking it would be easy to find gas en route. WRONG! Idaho closes down at dusk. And when it gets dark in Utah/Idaho - it really gets dark! When it became clear that we would run out of gas before long, I decided we should try to find a place to spend the night - of course now the fog set in! I could barely see the road in front, let alone cruise for accommodations. In desperation, I parked by the side of the road and hiked a bit. I came across some place that said "Cabins" and walked up the path the main house and described my dilemma. (Now, I might point out, that this was in the winter). The nice women that answered the door assured me that although they were closed for the season, she could work something out. "Something" was an unheated wooden cabin seemingly in the woods. With lots of covers and the kids in sleeping bags we settled down. (The "facilities" were only a few dozen or so yards away).
Come the morning, I walked out of the cabin to find the sun just rising over crystal clear Bear Lake, a short stone's throw away. What a gorgeous view! Soon Ma Kettle arrived said if we'd like some breakfast to come up to the main house in fifteen minutes. We were ushered into a large dining room and watched while three women busied about the kitchen. Fresh baked biscuits, farm-fresh eggs, country sausage, pan cakes, home made preserves, local wild honey- a farm feast fit for a king. While we were stuffing our faces, the teenager of the house went to the closest gas station and returned with 10 gallons of gas for the car. When it was time to go, I asked for my bill - overnight accommodations plus breakfast for 5 - $20.00.
I'd go back there for a vacation anytime.
der Brucer