Somewhere Through There

by Jimmy Miklavcic

We never got to actually see Forest City, or what little there is of it. It wasn’t for the lack of trying. Beth and I kept driving up the incessantly rocky and deeply rutted road. We were unsure that our trusty chittyjeepybangbang would make it any further. It wasn’t just the natural state of the road that was challenging; we had to dodge a multitude of squealing dirt bikes and buzzing all terrain vehicles. Apparently, the Forest City area, miles up the canyon from Timpanogos cave, is a favorite go-to spot for recreational vehicles.

Spirit Path

by Jimmy Miklavcic

This road saw similar activity more than a hundred thirty years ago, albeit in the form of mule-drawn wagons. I would assume it was much quieter then. I think now, having been unwilling to continue up the road, about those wagons, made of wood and carrying large loads of ore.

Stream of Conscience

by Jimmy Miklavcic

They survived the journey several times. How many times did the mules traverse this path? The road, back in 1871, must have been in worse disrepair than what we experienced that day.

Ephemeral Rush

by Jimmy Miklavcic

So, just as the previous inhabitants of that area, we abandoned Forest City. We left whatever remaining spirits that still dwell there in peace. Except, of course, for the shrieking two and four stroke engines that hustled up and down American Fork Creek’s shadow. Beth, Shorty (our thirteen pound human's best friend) and myself, instead, stopped at a picnic area and ate our lunch in the shade of various species of mountain trees before heading back for home.

In A Past Life

by Jimmy Miklavcic

I took a few photos of the road’s surrounding area with my iPad. I used them as the underlying structure for the digital paintings that I created for this project. Once the painting was completed, I deleted the layer containing the photo.

Where We Did Not Go

by Jimmy Miklavcic

Now, only the essence of the original image remains in the paintings. I suppose that is very similar to the residual existence of any ghost town. The underlying structure moves away and what ever was built upon that structure is left to its own ebbing presence.