The Homestead Resort

By Alan Peterson

Twelve years after the pioneers settled into the desert valley on the west side of the Wasatch, a group of five Mormon families cut sod and set up housekeeping along the banks of Snake Creek, on the east side of the range. Eventually, Mound City to the north and Smith Grove to the south were established. By 1866, the threat of Indian incursions was enough to convince the settlers to unite for their mutual defense. They picked a point midway between the two settlements, and with 75 cabins, Fort Midway was born. By 1890, the Swiss settlers who have given the area its old world flavor had settled under the peaks so reminiscent of their homeland.

In the midst of the fearful toil and labor, homesteader Simon Schneitter settled a plot of ground in 1864 that was dominated by a huge gray dome that bubbled forth with warm, mineral-rich water. Initially interested in agriculture, Schneitter found himself battling a particular "pot rock" or tufa, found just under the topsoil of his farm. A combination of calcium carbonate and manganese deposited over thousands of years by the unusual geothermal activity of the region, many of the Homestead buildings have been constructed of this not-limestone-not-marble type of stone.

Winter snowmelt percolates down through the porous earth, winding its way down through fissures and channels. Eventually, the water reaches a depth where it is heated and begins traveling back to the surface where it bubbles out and evaporates, leaving the pot rock. Underground, however, the carbonic acid created as the water picks up CO2 has melted away the interior of a large dome, creating a unique, hollow hill.

When neighbors and miners from Park City kept showing up to soak in the warm, relaxing mineral baths, Schneitter decide to put his efforts to better use. He channeled water into a broad enclosed pool, and began charging his "guests" while his wife, Fanny, began selling chicken dinners. As the fame of Fanny’s chicken dinners began to match that of the hot pot, a dining facility was added to the old family residence. Schneitter’s Hot Pots, precursor to The Homestead Resort, was born.

In 1900, Simon’s son, Jake, took over and began promoting the business in earnest. A succession of owners maintained the hometown feel of the original resort. In 1986, Great Inns of the Rockies, Inc. purchased the property and the Homestead renaissance began. An intense expansion plan, culminating with facilities to accommodate 2002 Winter Olympics activities, turned Simon Schneitter’s backwoods swimming hole into what Conde Nast Traveler Magazine ranked as one of the top 25 best overall ski resorts and ski areas of 1998.

After checking in at our comfortable Summer House accommodations, my wife, Nancy, and I dropped in at Simon’s restaurant. The epitome of Homestead hominess was Teresa Richardson, our hostess. Leading us through Simon’s rich and unique combination of Victorian and Frontier decor, it was obvious Teresa enjoyed her work. Why else would a person work in the same restaurant for 14 years? She isn’t unusual, either. All employees’ nametag notes their number of years at the Homestead. This is a tried and true staff. Teresa was delightful, adding Homestead history to her careful explanations of each dish, including tidbits such as important differences between hollandaise and sauce Bernaise.

Theresa’s complete understanding of the cuisine was an extension of the expertise and artistry of Chef John Ellsworth, who came to the Homestead via Napa Valley and Park City. Just reading his varied menu was satisfying. Starting with French bread and cranberry scones, we moved to tart of smoked salmon, smoked prawns with chive sauce, and wild mushroom and corn pancake with Asiago cheese appetizers. The tart was rich with a strong smoky flavor that contrasted nicely with the mildness of the mushroom and corn pancake.

We were glad for Teresa’s suggestions because, with such intriguing descriptions, we wanted to order everything. For a salad, I selected the Portobello mushroom, sundried tomato, Kalamata olive, and feta on baby lettuces with lemon olive oil. Nancy selected the avocado, Brie, and roasted pecans on spiced cress, which was dressed with the star of the evening–pickled strawberry vinaigrette. It was light and sweet with a mild vinegar/dill flavor–worth the trip!

The entree menu highlights the Homestead’s unique combination of Continental, California, and good ol’ fashioned country cooking. Seafood, beef, fish (filleted on the premises), chicken, lamb, and a vegetarian selection promise to provide something tempting for any diner. Nancy’s herb encrusted salmon was perfect but the lobster mashed potatoes stole the show. I enjoyed the tenderloin of pork rolled in pecans with cornbread pudding accompanied by a not-too-spicy maple barbecue sauce and shoestring sweet potatoes. Each entree is eye pleasing as well as palate pleasing and is augmented by fresh, steamed vegetables. A full wine list is available, as the Homestead is UDABC licensed.

Finally, dessert. Though we could hardly eat another bite, we forced ourselves to try pastry chef Ruth Cummings’ remarkable cheesecake and chocolate mousse tort with homemade hazelnut ice cream. Ruth’s cheesecakes are inspired by the shake flavors of another Heber Valley institution: Granny’s. One of Ruth’s recipes was, by special invitation, included in a Bon Appetite magazine’s Christmas recipe collection. All of the portions were more than generous and put us in the uncomfortable position of being absolutely stuffed but unwilling to quit eating because everything was so good.

We stayed and listened to Kathleen Porter Buell’s romantic piano arrangements–a favorite for 15 years at the Homestead. Teresa and the rest of Simon’s staff were very attentive without being intrusive. I was the intrusive one. I interrupted the couple next to us to ask their thoughts on the Homestead.

The DeSpanzas have been coming from Rochester to ski Park City for a dozen years. Each visit is capped-off by an evening at Simon’s. World travelers, the DeSpanzas say, "We have never found anyplace like it. We’ve never had anything we didn’t like." The ambience draws them back year after year. "And, the scones are better than in England."

Walking back to our suite, a great horned owl hooted from the spruce-tops. The resort is more like walking through a quaint, cozy community than a world-renowned getaway. The pioneer, Victorian, and Swiss influences on the architecture create an individuality as if the original owners still tended them. You can’t help saying, "Hi" to the other guests as you pass the historic Virginia House, the Milk House, and the other tree-shaded resting places. It’s like being in the neighborhood where you grew up, the one that will always be "home." And, my wife and I couldn’t help holding hands.

The next morning we found a newspaper on our doorstep as we shuffled through fresh snow to experience Fanny’s Grill. Overlooking a deck separated from the golf course by a koi-filled pond warmed by the hot springs, Fanny’s is the casual relative of Simon’s upstairs. This is a place where you are soon convinced by the creative menu and the waiting crowd that behind the kitchen doors must be a laughing, matronly grandmother who loves nothing more than pleasing people with her cooking.

When I hear "breakfast buffet," I expect orange juice and croissants–not at the Homestead. Bacon, scones, oatmeal, omelet’s, sausage, scrambled eggs, cinnamon rolls (a meal in themselves)–breakfast Nirvana. From the menu, don’t miss the eggs Benedict. I want to go back just for the Dutch Apple Scones. Lunch and Dinner menus consist of three pages of black angus burgers, roasted portobello mushroom sandwiches, grilled vegetable burritos, Kansas City sloppy ribs, Payson French onion soup gratine’...

I don’t like going to the same restaurant twice; I like new things. However, I am genuinely anxious to return to Fanny’s. Suffice it to say there is something appropriate about finishing any meal at Fanny’s with an old fashioned root beer float (if you can see past the blintzes with fresh strawberries).

We browsed leisurely through Whimsey’s, the gift shop off the main entrance, and where pleasantly surprised by the wonderfully eclectic collection of gifts, clothing, music, hand-crafted children’s toys, candles and Homestead-fashioned butter and cream fudge.

Britt Mathwich, president of Great Inns of the Rockies, met us by the crackling fireplace to show us the resort. Britt has been at the Homestead since its acquisition in the mid-eighties, when he left The Lodge at Cloudcroft, New Mexico, (Great Inns original establishment). Since the acquisition, The Homestead has expanded exponentially.

With the advent of the Olympics, the Homestead and Soldier Hollow will be the largest Olympic venue, hosting or supporting one-third of the events, with a medal event every day. From ski maintenance facilities to team headquarters, every possible need is satisfied by Britt and his efficient staff.

Before being selected as an Olympic venue, the Homestead accomplished its goal of becoming a premiere golf destination with the completion of a Bruce Summerhays-designed, 18-hole, championship course, complete with an award-winning pro shop. Britt is particularly proud of the tournament work done at the Homestead.

All this growth has never overshadowed the Homestead’s primary goal: providing a premiere, individualized experience for every guest. Talking to Chris Briscoe, the Homestead’s recreation director, was like encountering Walt Disney, Roy Rogers, a family reunion, family home evening, summer camp, and Jacques Cousteau all at once. The list of activities available is exhaustive: wagon rides through historic Midway, weekend campfire shows, full equestrian services including a kids’ horse orientation every Saturday, blue grass, theatre plays, ping-pong, and cowboy poetry–to name only a few.

If being pampered is more to your liking then stop by their full service day spa. Homestead Partners provide other activities and services such as snow cave camping, hot-air balloon rides, para-sailing, fly fishing, snowmobiling, and water skiing. Don’t forget, you’re just minutes from Park City’s world-famous skiing.

"Toddlers to grandparents, we can always find something for you," says Britt. "You don’t have to go to Sun Valley, Colorado, or California to get a world class experience," he said smiling. "And you don’t have to give up anything to enjoy the relaxation of a small country inn."

The Homestead has state-of-the art communication and business services, such as high-speed internet access, full electronic, audio-visual, sound and lighting support that keep companies like Hewlett-Packard, Interdyne, and Franklin Covey coming back for that Homestead touch. I understand why. The conference rooms are comfortable and decorated to enhance a business luncheon or training session. Imagine discussing yearly projections in front of a roaring fireplace instead of in a windowless basement at a sterile hotel. The AAA Four-Diamond rating is well-deserved. Mathwich and the Homestead have attained convenience and professionalism with an unmatched graciousness.

Touring the resort, I was struck by this unusual dichotomy: the facilities and amenities are top notch–comparable to Vail, Aspen, Mammoth, etc. Yet the atmosphere is country-fresh. Britt could be my genial next-door neighbor showing me his new retaining wall. Everyone makes you feel right at home. I felt like I belonged at the Homestead. No condescending Conde Nast ranking here. Wallace Stegner described the Homestead in 1958 with these words, "What has resulted from the fusion of outside world sophistication with local simplicities is something unique, charming, comfortable, impeccably run..." You can’t do better than Stegner, and you would be hard-pressed to improve upon the Homestead.

Diving into the Carter

A gray and snowy Utah day is made for yellow goggles on the ski slopes, or hunkering down in a duck blind; the kind of day for staying inside and reading a good book by a roaring fire. Not the scenario I’d have written for scuba diving. Tropical breezes, white sands, friendly sun, unpronounceable fruit drinks with little umbrellas–that’s diving. But here I was, walking into a mountain that looks like a 55-foot tall bundt cake with melting gray frosting...

Walking into the center of the crater is like entering a sci-fi movie set. It seems impossible that this is Utah in winter.

This surreal experience was made possible through the vision of Dr. Jerry Simon’s. A sometimes archeologist and committed diver, after retiring from a career in electrical engineering, Dr. Simon’s opened a dive shop to feed his hunger for aquatic adventure. Looking for a new location to dive other than the distant Blue Lake, Simon’s was intrigued when he overheard Utah County rescue personnel talking about a submerged cavern where they practiced rescue techniques. Over one year and 15 tons of dynamite later, the crater dive experience became a reality.

Entering the crater, our guide for the day, Ted Gwilliam, shows us the creamy travertine stone that makes up the bulk of the crater’s wall. "See that dark streak?" A wavy line of gray weaves along the surface of the tunnel wall. "That was about the time of Jesus," he says. Confident and good-natured, Ted carefully introduces us to our equipment and the location.

Simon Schneitter’s hot pot is one of nearly 250 geothermal features in the Heber Valley charted by the USGS while looking for alternative methods to create electrical energy. Unlike the others, Simon’s is the only one that is hollow. With a surface about the size of a gymnasium floor, the 96-degree water reaches down about 65 feet before it hits a silty bottom that hides 10,000 years of history. Dr. Simon’s has conducted exploratory excavations, uncovering thousands of coins, clothing, marbles, a gun, and other articles that are on display at the Homestead.

In the future, a large-scale operation will thoroughly explore the perfectly layered depths. The project has garnered support from the National Geographic Society. When asked what the plans are for any artifacts found, Simon’s indicates that everything has been committed to the community for display; nothing can be sold.

Ted shows me my buoyancy compensator, regulator and tank; slips a few weights in the BC, and we head to the water where a wooden dive platform joins a suspended "hot tub" area. If diving isn’t your idea of fun then you can just relax in this mineral bath, while snowflakes filter down through the moss-covered opening high above the bathtub-warm water.

The initial shock of being engulfed by liquid and breathing through your mouth is soon swallowed up in the other-worldliness underwater. With roughly 80 percent of the earth’s surface covered by water, I guess it only makes sense to visit the rest of the neighborhood. Ted reassuringly helps me adjust the pressure in my ears and we descend in wide spirals following the crater’s curve.

Scuba is a uniquely isolated experienced. Even if surrounded by other divers, sound, sight, and movement all change. The soft rush of air from regulator to bubbling exhalation is a musically rhythmic background. You can communicate in only limited fashion and so the experience is yours alone. It can only be expressed after the fact and so it must be internalized.

Ted signals me asking if I’m okay and, while I watch, descends spread-eagle, like a slow motion sky diver, trailing a rush of silver bubbles. Alone, I take in my surroundings. Though the water is Caribbean blue, the crater is relatively barren, but the sensation of hanging suspended 20 feet under water and sky, 40 feet from any solid support, doesn’t require a glitzy parade of jewel-like fish to be enjoyable.

Dr. Simon’s dream won over suggestions to paint the dome orange, install a slide, or turn it into a windmill. Thank heavens for Britt Mathwich’s ability to catch the vision. Since ‘96, over 500,000 visitors have soaked, scuba-ed, or swum in this, the only interior, geothermal dive location in the U.S. And, the dream isn’t finished. Simon’s has plans to construct a dressing facility to match the rest of the resort’s amenities and to provide classroom space for the approximately 200 divers who certify here every month. The dive experience can be enjoyed separately or packaged with a stay at the resort.

Ted returns brandishing a plastic crocodile and lobster from the bottom. New diver tip–don’t laugh underwater. After stabilizing and clearing my mask, I signal Ted "okay." (He didn’t teach me the signal for "I’m not dying; please help me put my lung back in.") Then we calmly spiral downward. A wagon wheel, suspended two-thirds the distance to the bottom, serves as a rest stop. I notice the lights on the cavern walls. This must be interesting and eerie at night.

All too soon, Ted signals it’s time to ascend. Hand-over-hand we slowly leave the dark blue depths and return to the surface.

Being pregnant, my wife Nancy is soaking in the comfortable water and snorkeling on top. When Ted goes to prepare for an upcoming class, Nancy shares a regulator and we paddle around the surface enjoying the crater’s warmth. The falling rain and rising steam, and the sound of dripping water, creates a haunting scene. The quiet slowly disappears as sounds from the arriving dive class echo in the tunnel.

The last time I visited to the Homestead was back in the early ‘70s. Our neighbors had a small summer home in Midway and we spent a weekend fishing in Snake Creek, clambering over the crater, throwing in pennies, swimming in the Homestead’s pool, and lounging with ice cream melting in the summer sun. I remember looking down into the crater, wondering what was down there.

We left on a Saturday evening and returned to our home in Bountiful. There was still daylight left and I ended up mowing the lawn. I remembered pushing the lawnmower around and around two decades ago. The mower noise created the same kind of curtain of loneness that was created by the diving regulator and bubbles. It shut out everything else. Turned inward, a melancholy had overcome me. A melancholy that is best described as homesickness. I wasn’t ready to come home.

Twenty-five years later, that same feeling returns as I watched Simon Schneitter’s hot pot disappear in the rearview mirror.

The Homestead

A complete list of Homestead activities, packages and events would fill the rest of this magazine. Lodging options at the Homestead include traditional guest rooms ($120-200), bed& breakfast style accommodations ($140-160), suites and executive rooms ($190-325), and condominiums and private homes ($260-675).

Fanny’s

Breakfast: $3.50 for one egg to $7.50 for the corned beef hash.

Hot pot lunch: $3.50 for soup of the day to $9.00 for the avocado and shrimp Salad.

Dinner: $3.50 for soup of the day to $21.00 for a 20-oz. slab of prime rib.

Simon’s

From $6 appetizers and $4 half-salads to $27 rack of lamb. Entrees average about $21. Make sure you ask to be seated at one of Teresa’s tables.

The Crater

You can call the Crater office directly at (435) 654-5843. Dr. Simon’s full-service dive shop, WaterWorld, is located in the University Mall, in Orem, phone number: (801) 224-8181. Staff members can provide certification, equipment and trips on exploring underwater, from the Crater to the Caribbean.

Call Britt’s staff at (800) 327-7220 to request an information packet or visit their website at (www.homesteadresort.com).