Discover a vibrant bookstore-skate shop in Utah blending literary culture and skateboarding, drawing locals and visitors alike with its quirky offerings.
June 12, 2026
In the heart of an alpine town in Utah’s Wasatch Mountains, a distinctive shop has emerged from the remains of an old service station. This new establishment is not just a bookstore; it's a vibrant hub where coffee, skateboarding, and art supplies collide. Avery, the sole staff member besides Galen and me, artfully manages a coffee bar in a waiting room transformed into a cozy retreat. Meanwhile, Galen caters to skaters by selling boards and oversized shorts in one garage bay, while I fill the other with literature and art materials, including a selection of Korean sunscreens. Our approach to merchandise may seem eclectic to some, but we curate our products thoughtfully.
Sarah, a longtime friend from New York, has come to assist as we prepare for our grand opening. She's tackled the less glamorous tasks, like pricing our drink menu and setting up the receipt printer, a task she's familiar with from our many years of friendship. Reminiscing about our shared past during the pandemic—when a glamping trip nearly ended in disaster from carbon-monoxide poisoning—adds a layer of nostalgia to our preparations. We were fortunate then, securing an upgraded safari tent as a consolation for our misadventure.
As our first day unfolds, I experience a moment of triumph selling my inaugural book, a whimsical title by Benjamin Franklin, for seven dollars to a high school teacher on a date. This is quickly followed by transactions involving works by Mary Austin and Stephanie LaCava. The young buyer for LaCava's book, despite her apparent youth, is undeterred by the mature themes. Reflecting on my own reading habits at her age, I remember losing myself in Janet Evanovich’s series without oversight. By day’s end, our sales report reveals a surprising hit: washi tape featuring bears playing drums outranks even our iced lattes.
June 13
The following day proves enlightening as we discover a demand for vintage fly-fishing guides from 1973, showcasing the community's quirky tastes.
Photo by Claire Carusillo.
June 15
Galen's infatuation with the song "Reno" by Doug Supernaw has taken root; neither of us has ever visited Reno, yet it’s become a lighthearted touchpoint in our lives. Our visit to West Wendover, a neighboring casino town, led to an encounter with an intriguing New Yorker and left us with lighthearted tales of herb offers and the lack of good souvenirs.
The song cleverly critiques the city—and its mayor’s infamous reaction to its lyrics back in 1993—giving us a lyrical lens through which we navigate our surroundings. These tunes play in the background as Galen interacts with a family from Reno in our shop; the irony of their unawareness of the song is not lost on us.
While Galen returns to his favorite tunes, like Rosalie Sorrels's "Brigham Young," I can't help but appreciate the intertwining of culture within our shop as we make this vibrant community our home.
June 19
On weekends, streams of women dressed in prairie-style dresses have turned up in town, flocking to a nearby farm store owned by a once-famous ballerina. Initially, I found this incursion alarming, as I desired to hold the unofficial title of the most attention-grabbing resident. Yet, as time passes, I warm to the idea of sharing our space with this new crowd. The ballerina's commitment to her farming endeavor, despite a few slip-ups regarding raw milk, has become a point of local intrigue.
June 20
A lively gathering of skaters has just visited, including an injured dog named Laika. They journeyed from Salt Lake City to soak up nature and browse our merchandise, adding an air of chaos and camaraderie to our shop that I didn't know I craved. Afterwards, I delight in a clever moment when Max, a lingering skater, appears with a tiny rescued raccoon. It’s an impromptu petting zoo sensation that brings joy to a few curious children amidst a nervous attempt to maintain decorum in our newly opened space.
Photo by Claire Carusillo.
June 21
Our first social event as a community has arrived—in the form of an invitation to a gathering at a stunning home in Midway. I find common ground with fellow attendees, as many have shed ties with the Mormon Church in recent years, sharing personal stories and experiences of newfound freedom in their older years. While I indulge in a few White Claws, the conversations with intriguing fathers add layers to my understanding of the local culture.
June 24
The valley is currently shrouded in orange smoke from forest fires, creating an eerie beauty as it illuminates the plywood in our shop. I bury myself in a compelling read—Kaitlin Tiffany’s examination of societal norms—which I eagerly recommend to Mary Ann, a former children’s librarian who has shared fascinating tales of her past experiences, including the day of JFK's assassination. Engaging in this discussion encourages reflections on our collective histories and perspectives.
June 25
A humorous email from our hacky sack supplier lands in my inbox, stressing the humorous complications of delayed shipments, indicating the everyday challenges of small business ownership.
June 26
The smoke persists. A bold notice warns against fireworks, which I've come to resent after a summer of noise disturbances affecting my anxious dog.
July 1
A barbecue invitation from friends in Wallsburg offers more than just great food—it’s an opportunity to immerse myself in local lore. We share myths of Butch Cassidy's gang and contend with packs of straying dogs that have grown common in the area.
July 4
Communication from the mayor remains sporadic. Our plans to sift through his silver mining collection have yet to materialize, highlighting the constant balancing act of managing our time.
July 6
Family visits bring a buzz of activity as my siblings assist with shop duties, all while Julia, a talented designer, enhances our aesthetic with clever signage. My parents jump into the mix, showcasing their adaptability and natural charm as they interact with our customers.
July 7
Taking a brief rest with my family, we reflect on experiences and share laughs, all while adjusting to the rhythm of life in our new environment. The humor flows as we read aloud from a Sedaris essay, deepening our familial bonds and appreciation for the moment.
July 10
Brandon, a local physical therapist, surprisingly shares a shirt with Galen, showcasing the quirky style that has emerged in our burgeoning community.
July 11
In celebration of a month of operation, we take our friends to the river for an exhilarating float experience, enhancing the joyful chaos that has become our norm.
July 12
We also venture into the realm of eccentric food products, like skater-owned hot sauce, face some lighthearted confusion about our branding, and wonder if our shop is being viewed through the lens of its playful spirit.
In this bustling intersection of literature, skating culture, and community life, we're carving out a niche that resonates with the eclectic tastes of locals and visitors alike.
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