Nebo Loop: Utah’s Back-door Scenic Byway — Where Aspens Glow, Creeks Sing And The Seasons Put On A Show

Uinta National Forest Nebo Loop Scenic Byway Wildflower viewing site map with directions.

For drivers who want to trade freeway glare for pine shadows and broad mountain bowls, the Mount Nebo Scenic Byway--otherwise known as the Nebo Loop--offers one of central Utah’s most concentrated doses of high-country scenery. Winding roughly 37–38 miles along the flanks of Mount Nebo — the highest peak on the Wasatch Front — the byway climbs from the valley floor near Payson and Nephi into a mosaic of oakbrush, aspen groves, spruce-fir timber and alpine tundra. It’s a ribbon of road built for one thing: to slow you down. 

Designated a National Scenic Byway in the late 1990s, the Nebo Loop (often signed as Forest Route 15) is a cooperative landscape — public lands managed by the U.S. Forest Service, local cities and state transportation agencies working together to preserve both access and the places visitors come to see. Most guidebooks set aside a single day to drive the loop one way, stopping at overlooks, trailheads and short nature walks. But many people linger: afternoons at Payson Lakes, sunrise on the Nebo Overlook, or a short scramble into Mount Nebo Wilderness. 

A road through changing life-zones

What makes the Nebo Loop especially compelling is the visible transition of plant communities as elevation changes. At lower elevations, in and above the canyon mouths, big sagebrush and mountain-brush species — Gambel oak and mountain mahogany — hold the hills. Higher up, oakbrush gives way to aspen stands whose white trunks march in bands around bowls and ridges. Still higher are mixed conifer forests of Douglas-fir, Engelmann spruce and subalpine fir, and, in the highest reaches, krummholz and alpine meadows dotted with primrose and tiny tundra plants. Wildflowers are prolific in late spring and summer, and side tracks and service roads off the main loop host particularly rich displays. 

The fauna follows the vegetation. Mule deer and elk are regulars, browsed by hikers and visible from overlooks; coyotes and bobcats move through the brushier slopes; black bears and mountain lions exist in the shadows but are rarely seen. Smaller life is equally abundant: Clark’s nutcrackers and other conifer specialists, warblers in the aspen stands, and an array of insects that transform the meadows into living color in summer. Riparian corridors along the route — the creeks and stocked lakes — support amphibians, waterfowl and a richer insect life, attracting flyfishers and families who want an easy nature stop. 

Streams, lakes and the sound of running water

Water is a quiet but constant companion along the Nebo Loop. Payson Canyon and Nephi Canyon — the two main drainages bridged by the byway — give birth to a network of creeks: smaller tributaries that tumble in runs and cascades, feed maple-shaded ponds and sustain thicker riparian vegetation than the surrounding slopes. Maple Lake and Payson Lakes are two of the most visited water features: Maple Lake sits close to the Payson entrance and is popular for fishing and short walks, while Payson Lakes is a year-round recreation area with paved trails, picnic facilities and campgrounds that are family-friendly and well maintained. The creeks also historically supplied irrigation and local water needs for valley towns, a reminder that these high country landscapes are not isolated: they’re tied to the agricultural valleys below. 

Picnic spots and campgrounds: where to slow the car

Facilities along the byway range from formal, developed campgrounds to informal pullouts and dispersed camping. Payson Lakes Recreation Area is the byway’s primary full-service hub: single and double campsites, group areas with tables and grills, day-use picnic zones and easy access to fishing. Maple Lake and several smaller campgrounds and trailhead parking areas provide quieter, sometimes first-come-first-served options. Popular short stops include the Devil’s Kitchen geological area (a half-mile loop to hoodoos), Grotto and Double Falls side hikes, and multiple overlooks that frame Utah Valley, Utah Lake and the sweep of the Wasatch. Many of these day-use sites have picnic tables and fire rings — families and senior groups are common in high season. 

How Nebo Loop ties into the larger canyon network — Santaquin Canyon

A less obvious virtue of the Nebo Loop is that it’s a node in a larger web of canyons and roads. The byway primarily traverses Payson and Nephi canyons, but several local roads feed into nearby Santaquin Canyon, offering extended recreation beyond the loop itself. From certain access points and spur roads near the Nebo Loop, travelers can extend outings into Santaquin Canyon’s oak-and-juniper slopes and enjoy an alternate approach to canyon hikes and backcountry dispersed camping. Local tourism offices and the city of Santaquin note that the byway provides convenient access to Santaquin Canyon recreation opportunities, making the loop a convenient staging ground for longer adventures. 

Season by season: the byway’s changing face

Spring: the thaw and the green-up

Spring along the Nebo Loop is a drawn-out celebration. Snowpack at the highest elevations melts into streams that thunder or whisper depending on the year, filling ponds and flushing the late-season debris from roadside pulls. Lower slopes break into green first — gambel oak and mahogany leafing out — and wildflowers follow uphill as the snowline retreats. Trails can be muddy; anglers take advantage of high runoff inside creeks and the byway’s lakes. 

Summer: flower meadows and active recreation

Summer is peak recreation season: wildflower displays bloom in meadows and side roads, forest trails are dry enough for long hikes, and families spread blankets at Payson Lakes. Day-use areas and campgrounds are busy. Because much of the byway climbs above valley heat, it’s a favored escape on hot July and August days. Side activities include mountain biking on designated trails, horseback riding and, in some years, limited OHV use on authorized roads. 

Autumn: the byway’s grand performance

Autumn is when the Nebo Loop becomes a regional must-see. The aspen stands — those white trunks that line gullies and bowls — change to a blazing palette of gold and orange first, often beginning in late September and peaking through October depending on elevation and yearly snow. The contrast of gold aspen against dark evergreen forests and sharply blue October skies is what photographers and leaf-chasers come to see. Cooler days and crisp nights also bring elk into lower foraging areas, and the quieter turn of the season makes campgrounds feel more private. For anyone planning a Nebo Loop trip specifically to view fall color, aim for mid- to late-October but watch local ranger updates: elevation and timing vary year to year. 

Winter: quiet, closed sections, and snow recreation

Winter changes the byway from a driving route into a winter playground in parts. Officially, sections of the Nebo Loop close for the season (road closures depend on snow and maintenance decisions), and the higher passes see heavy snowpack. Where roads are closed, the pistes and meadows become spaces for snowmobiling, cross-country skiing and winter camping — permitted and managed in designated areas. Visitors should check Forest Service and state DOT notices before heading out after the first major storms. 

Local stewardship and the visitor experience

Because the Nebo Loop crosses multiple jurisdictions, stewardship is a collaborative act. The Forest Service maintains trailheads, campgrounds and interpretive signage; county and state agencies maintain the pavement and safety; local cities provide signage and information for tourist services. The Nebo Loop’s management plans emphasize both access and protection: keep developed areas in good repair, preserve scenic overlooks, and manage human impacts on fragile alpine meadows and riparian corridors. Visitors can help by packing out trash, using designated fire rings and campsites, and staying on established trails. 

Practical tips:

— Timing: If you go for autumn color, plan for mid-September through mid-October as a general window — but double-check current conditions.

— Access: The byway is accessible from Payson to the north and Nephi to the south. Some side roads and spurs offer shorter routes into Santaquin Canyon and other nearby recreation areas. 

OUR AMERICAN STORY

 CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Our American Story

Pictured is a wee George Washington, or rather Mike Olson, today’s publisher of The Payson Chronicle, with his younger sister Deanne Olson Van Ausdal in 1950s Santaquin, Utah. 

The 250th anniversary of our nation is not only a time to look back, but also to look forward. Many see 2026 as an opportunity to confront the country’s imperfections while honoring its resilience. Conversations about democracy, equality, and freedom are as vital today as they were in 1776.

Join the conversation.

We want to know what being an American means to you. What are your hopes for our nation’s future? 

Send us your American story in essay form, as an original poem, or composed in lyrics to a song—all for consideration of publication in The Payson Chronicle in the weeks leading up to America's 250th birthday celebration. 

Send your submission to paysonchronicle@gmail.com, or submit in person or by mail at 145 East Utah Avenue #5, Payson, Utah 84651.

Lunchtime in Payson today is Mo’BEST. #mobettahs

 

 

OUR AMERICAN STORY

America at 250: A Nation Reflects on Its Past and Celebrates Its Promise

An unidentified woman and child pictured in the aptly named Bicentennial Pool, which opened on July 4, 1976. Payson’s now former public swimming pool was located near Memorial Park’s southeast corner. 

A page from the Payson Junior Cultus Club scrapbook preserves memories with mementos recording the local women’s organization’s observations of the nation’s Bicentennial anniversary. The club’s activities spanned 1975-1976. Photo (left-right) is of Val Hogan and Shirley Hardman.

In the summer of 2026, the United States of America turns 250 years old. The semiquincentennial—officially marking two and a half centuries since the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776—is more than a grand anniversary. It is a moment of reflection, celebration, and renewal for a nation that has weathered revolutions, wars, depressions, and renaissances, all in the enduring pursuit of liberty and union.

A Quarter Millennium of Independence

When delegates gathered in Philadelphia’s Independence Hall during the hot summer of 1776, they could scarcely have imagined the immense scope of the republic they were founding. The Declaration of Independence, drafted primarily by Thomas Jefferson and adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4, boldly proclaimed that “all men are created equal” and endowed with unalienable rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

The fledgling nation of thirteen colonies faced insurmountable odds against the world’s mightiest empire. The Revolutionary War, fought from 1775 to 1783, tested American resolve. Yet under the leadership of General George Washington and the sacrifices of thousands, independence was achieved.

From that crucible emerged a Constitution in 1787 that sought to unite a diverse collection of states under a federal government—an experiment in democracy that has endured, adapted, and expanded for two and a half centuries.

The United States grew westward across the continent, adding new states and peoples, often through painful and complex chapters of displacement and conflict. The Civil War of the 1860s nearly tore the young nation apart, but also brought an end to slavery and redefined freedom for millions.

The industrial age, immigration waves, and two world wars transformed America into a global power by the mid-20th century. The civil rights movement, women’s suffrage, technological innovation, and the expansion of education and communication shaped the America of today—a nation of over 330 million people bound by ideals more than borders.

Looking Back at Major National Birthdays

Every major anniversary of American independence has prompted nationwide reflection and festivity. These celebrations have mirrored the country’s character and concerns at the time—equal parts patriotic and introspective.

The Centennial of 1876 came at a time when the nation was still healing from the wounds of the Civil War. The centerpiece was the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, the first official World’s Fair in the United States. More than ten million visitors marveled at industrial innovations such as the typewriter, Alexander Graham Bell’s telephone, and the colossal Corliss steam engine. The event symbolized America’s technological optimism and emergence as an industrial leader.

In smaller towns across the country, citizens celebrated with parades, fireworks, and patriotic orations, echoing the spirit of unity that Abraham Lincoln had urged just a decade earlier. Though Reconstruction remained unfinished and racial divisions persisted, the Centennial offered a glimpse of reconciliation and progress.

The Bicentennial of 1976 remains one of the most memorable national anniversaries. Amid the aftermath of the Vietnam War and the Watergate scandal, the nation was in search of unity and pride. President Gerald Ford declared 1976 a year-long Bicentennial celebration, and millions of Americans joined in.

Every state, county, and community hosted parades, concerts, and fireworks displays. The Tall Ships parade in New York Harbor drew enormous crowds, with President Ford presiding over a flotilla of majestic sailing vessels from around the world. Philadelphia, again the symbolic heart of the celebration, restored Independence Hall and hosted dignitaries and visitors from across the globe.

On July 4, 1976, the skies over Washington, D.C., erupted in what was then the largest fireworks display in American history. Television broadcasts carried the event live to millions. In towns like Payson, Utah, and across the nation, local parades, barbecues, and concerts marked the occasion in homespun fashion, connecting communities to the broader national spirit.

The Bicentennial left a lasting legacy of civic pride and historical preservation. Monuments were restored, new museums were established, and the American flag once again flew from porches in nearly every neighborhood.

The 200th anniversary of the Constitution in 1987, though smaller in scale, rekindled debates about democracy, rights, and the role of government. It was a celebration less of fireworks and more of civic dialogue, as Americans revisited the document that framed their freedoms.

The 250th Celebration: America 250

Now, as the nation reaches its Semiquincentennial in 2026, the United States once again turns to its history for guidance and its people for celebration. Congress established the U.S. Semiquincentennial Commission in 2016 to plan the commemoration, working with local communities, museums, and historical societies to honor 250 years of independence.

The official theme, “America 250: Our Shared Story,” emphasizes inclusion, reflection, and unity. Rather than one centralized event, the anniversary is being marked by thousands of community-based celebrations across all fifty states, territories, and tribal nations.

Philadelphia once again takes center stage, with a year-long series of exhibitions, concerts, and cultural showcases. Independence Hall will host an international gathering on July 4, where leaders, historians, and citizens will reflect on the global impact of American democracy.

Washington, D.C. will host the America 250 Parade of Nations, a historical reenactment and multicultural celebration culminating on the National Mall with a grand fireworks display that rivals 1976’s Bicentennial spectacle. The Smithsonian Institution is curating a major exhibit titled “The American Story: 250 Years of People and Progress,” featuring artifacts from each era of the nation’s history—from Revolutionary War muskets to lunar artifacts from Apollo 11.

A Nation Still Becoming

From the Liberty Bell’s enduring crack to the modern glow of city skylines, America’s symbols remind its citizens that unity has always required courage, compromise, and hope.

When the fireworks illuminate the sky on July 4, 2026—from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from small towns to great cities—they will do more than commemorate a date. They will celebrate the shared journey of a people still striving to live up to the ideals penned 250 years ago: that all are created equal, and that freedom, once kindled, must forever be renewed.

In this week’s edition of The Payson Chronicle

 

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Our American Story

Pictured: The Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876 was the first official World’s Fair in the United States. Shown here is the right arm and torch of the Statue of Liberty, which was showcased at the exposition. Visitors could climb the ladder to the balcony for a fee of 50 cents, the money dedicated to funding the statue’s pedestal.

The 250th anniversary of our nation is not only a time to look back, but also to look forward. Many see 2026 as an opportunity to confront the country’s imperfections while honoring its resilience. Conversations about democracy, equality, and freedom are as vital today as they were in 1776.

Join the conversation.

We want to know what being an American means to you. What are your hopes for our nation’s future? 

Send us your American story in essay form, as an original poem, or composed in lyrics to a song—all for consideration of publication in The Payson Chronicle in the weeks leading up to America's 250th birthday celebration. 

Send your submission to paysonchronicle@gmail.com, or submit in person or by mail at 145 East Utah Avenue #5, Payson, Utah 84651.

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Surrey Down

 

Celebrate merriment and the merry makers, too. (Dixon-Fairbanks family photo collection image—courtesy of the lovely Coralee Wilson) 

Note to Voters

 

Payson City Announces Clarification Concerning Election Ballot Procedures

Local voters—Payson City has made the following official announcement:

Celebrate merriment and the merry makers, too. (Dixon-Fairbanks family photo collection image—courtesy of Coralee Wilson)

 #dixon #fairbanks #paysonian #paysonutah #dixonfairbanks #utahhistory #paysonchronicle #thepaysonchronicle #readthepaysonchronicle #utaharts

Lunchtime in Payson: Segovia’s Bakery in the Historic Downtown

 Lunchtime in Payson. 

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Mourning the Passing of Our Friend (REVISED)

 

DeLowa Batty Haskell

DeLowa Batty Haskell peacefully passed away early Sunday morning, October 19, 2025. She was reunited with her eternal companion, Ivan Y Haskell. DeLowa was born on April 22, 1933, in Kanarraville, Utah and was the daughter of John Willard Batty and Wanda Pollock Batty. At the age of five, her mother died during childbirth, along with her baby brother. She was a strong little girl to be able to handle tragedy at such a young age. Her father remarried Alva Hartley. DeLowa eventually became a big sister to Carolyn, Retta, Elaine, John, and Travis.

She attended school in Kanarraville, Utah, and graduated from Cedar City High School. After high school graduation, she moved to Payson, Utah, where she lived with her Aunt Nola Pollock Merrell and Uncle Orville Merrell. She was a beauty and caught the eye of Ivan Haskell in Sunday School. Ivan took her out after canceling a date with another girl. He was smitten and they were married in the LDS St. George Temple on February 9, 1952. During their 71 years of marriage, they became parents to Craig, Jeff, Betty Ann, Steve, and Sandy. They made their home in Haskellville. She was an amazing grandmother to 30 grandchildren, great-grandmother to 52 with another little girl coming in February, and great-great grandmother to 3 adorable little girls.

Besides serving side by side with Ivan on their farm, she was an amazing woman with talents that have blessed the lives of not only her family, but so many others. Summers were busy gardening, canning, and eating tomato sandwiches, yellow crookneck squash and corn on the cob. Oh, and we can’t forget peach dessert and apple pie. She hosted many quilting bee’s in her home. Too many quilts of love to count, were hand stitched and quilts given to her family. At Christmas time, homemade fudge, penuche, and peanut brittle were given to her neighbors, along with her famous homemade donuts. She always had a talent for making beautiful flower arrangements to cheer others. She became quite the knitter and made many beautiful sweaters. She was an excellent seamstress and sewed clothes for her children, grandchildren and beautiful wedding dresses for her two daughters. She enjoyed working at Allred’s Barn in Provo with the Allred family where she met many interesting people. Ivan and DeLowa enjoyed traveling the world with each other on tours and with family.

DeLowa was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Throughout the years, she has tirelessly served as president of each auxiliary and many other positions of leadership. DeLowa and Ivan served missions to Nauvoo, Illinois, Wolfpointe, Montana, and a service mission working in the Family History Library at BYU. They also served at Fort Bluff. DeLowa and Ivan also served in the Provo Temple, as well as the Payson Temple for decades. Faithfully she attended the temple. After Ivan’s passing DeLowa went every week with her dear friends, Jean Gasser, Norma Davis, and family.

DeLowa was a very special woman whose life has been to serve others with no thought of herself—Christlike in every way. She will be missed dearly by all who knew her and will never be forgotten.

Preceded in death by her husband Ivan Y Haskell, his parents Lee Mearl Haskell and Nellie Youd Haskell, father John Willard Batty, mother Wanda Pollock Batty, baby brother, mother Alva Hartley Batty, her younger sisters Carolyn Batty Williams (Gary), and Retta Batty Davis (Allen), and daughter-in-law Marie Peterson Haskell.

DeLowa is survived by son Craig Ivan Haskell (Sandra), Payson, Utah, son Jeffrey C Haskell (Aldean), Blackfoot, Idaho, daughter Betty Ann Haskell Murray (Bill), Salt Lake City, Utah, son Steven Mearl Haskell (Karen), Salem, Utah, daughter Sandy Kay Haskell Dinkins (Joe) Salem, Utah, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great grandchildren, sister Elaine Batty Cartright (Randy), Kanarraville, Utah, brothers John Willard Batty (Teresa) Kanarraville, Utah,  and Matthew Travis Batty (Deb) New Harmony, Utah.

A funeral service will be held Friday, October 24, 2025, at 11:00 a.m. at the Payson LDS 7th Ward meetinghouse, 1100 East 100 South, Payson, Utah. Visitations will be Thursday, October 23, 2025, from 6:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m. at  Walker Funeral Home, 587 South 100 West, Payson, Utah and on Friday morning, October 24, 2025, at the church from 9:30 a.m. – 10:30 a.m. Interment will follow at Payson Utah Cemetery, 400 North 800 East, Payson, Utah.

Support the Music Makers—the Culture and the ARTS

 

In this week’s edition of The Payson Chronicle

 

Forebay Open House October 29

 

Forebay Committee To Hold Public Open House

The Payson City Forebay Committee will hold a public open house on Wednesday, October 29, 2025, from 6 PM to 7 PM at the Payson City Center, Council Chambers, at 439 West Utah Avenue. The purpose of this open house is to provide information and receive public input regarding a proposed Deed of Conservation Easement to be recorded over the 480-acre city-owned property known as the Forebay Recreation Area. If approved by future action of the Payson City Council, this conservation easement will place specific conditions over the property that supports the scenic, educational, recreational, cultural, watershed and wildlife habitat values of the land and will require the property to remain publicly accessible in perpetuity.

A copy of the proposed conservation easement will be available at the open house or is available for review by contacting the City Recorder at kimh@paysonutah.gov or 801-465-5205.

Mourning the Passing of Our Friend

 

 

DeLowa Haskell

Support the Art Makers & The Culture

— Photo courtesy of Coralee Wilson

#paysonutah #paysonians #thepaysonchronicle #utaharts #readthepaysonchronicle #coolkids #paysonchronicle 

SUPPORT SMALL BUSINESSES — Basic Affordable Fashion in Historic Downtown Payson

 

Story Collage: Shovel Takes The Wheel

 

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How The Sugar Beet Built — And Later Left — Utah

PHOTO—Hired as a chemist for the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company in 1915, Ephraim Cluff worked at the Bellingham, Washington plant, and later Midvale, Utah. He married Emma Jane Dixon (Em Cluff) in Payson on August 28, 1909, six years before he started working for the sugar beet company. The newlyweds are pictured with a small wedding party that traveled, by horse and buggy, with them as they honeymooned at stops between central and southern Utah and back. This photo was taken near St George. (Photo courtesy of Coralee Wilson)

When a young farmer in the late 19th century sank a furrowed row of sugar beets into irrigated Utah soil, he was plugging into an industry that would reshape towns, shore up family farms and build smokestacks across the Intermountain West. For roughly a century the sugar-beet — a squat, white-fleshed root — was one of Utah’s most valuable cash crops. Its harvests filled railcars, paid wages in Main Street stores and underwrote canals, pipelines and new towns. But by the mid-20th century the economics of sugar, changing markets and consolidation hollowed out that industry. Today the beets are largely gone from Utah fields and the factories that once processed them stand either repurposed, recycled for parts, or only as memory and masonry on the landscape. 

From experimental patch to region-building industry

Utah’s sugar story begins with motive and water. Late 19th-century leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and territorial boosters wanted a local source of table sugar to reduce dependence on imports and to provide a dependable cash crop for dryland and irrigated farms. Investment in irrigation projects and beet-friendly acreage made the valley soils and seasonal climate attractive for the crop. By the 1890s organized companies — most notably what became the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company — were building central factories to process beets into raw sugar and finding eager farmers willing to plant beets under contract. 

Processing sugar beets is a capital-intensive, seasonal industry. Farms raised the beets through summer; in autumn crews harvested them, and the roots were hauled quickly to nearby factories for “slicing” — the first step that extracts the sweet juice. That juice was clarified, concentrated, and crystallized into raw sugar; molasses and pulp were off-products that became livestock feed or fertilizer. To move tons of watery beet pulp and fragile sliced beets, companies built short pipelines, cutting stations and rail spurs; the proximity of rail lines was often a deciding factor for factory locations. 

The Utah-Idaho Sugar Company — an empire with local faces

The Utah-Idaho Sugar Company (often shortened to U-I, later U & I) became the dominant industrial engine of this agricultural system. Consolidating earlier Utah and Idaho concerns in the early 20th century, U-I built, bought and moved plants to match acreage and water availability. The company’s ties to local institutions — including significant early investment by leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — gave it unusual influence in the region’s rural economy. At its peak the company controlled dozens of plants and thousands of contracted acres across Utah, Idaho and neighboring states, and paid millions of dollars a year to area farmers and wage laborers. 

The U-I story is also one of nimble logistics. Equipment was moved from closed plants to newer locations; where blight or low yields made a factory unviable, its machines were often lifted, freighted and re-installed elsewhere. That practice helped the company adapt to changing production patterns — but over time, consolidation and competition would shrink the footprint of factories in Utah. 

Payson and the Central Utah sugar boom

Payson, Utah — a farming community south of Provo — offers a succinct local example of how beet sugar shaped towns. A U-I plant opened in Payson in 1913, timed with irrigation improvements that expanded arable acreage in the region. In its early years the Payson factory processed thousands of acres of contracted beets; in 1915 local farmers planted more than 5,000 acres that produced nearly 37,000 tons of roots and yielded several thousand tons of sugar. Those receipts flowed into farmers’ pockets and the local economy: seasonal crews required lodging, merchants sold implements and groceries, and local banks and rail yards hummed during campaign months. For a generation the beet season produced extra employment, a predictable market for diversifying farms and a spike in land values near factory catchments. 

The ripple effects were social as well as economic. Seasonal beet crews — initially local and then increasingly migrant labor — bolstered small-town populations in fall months. The industry supported ancillary jobs: truck drivers, railroad hands, maintenance crews at canals and pipelines, and factory workers — from slicer operators to boiler men and chemists — whose steady pay stabilized families through harsh winters. Local merchants and professionals benefited from the added cash flow, and in many places the promise of beet contracts encouraged farmers to install deeper wells and irrigation works that improved other crops too.

People who worked the beets

The human labor of beet production is central to the story. Early decades relied on family labor and local seasonal help; during both world wars the industry also depended on alternative labor sources, including guest workers and, regrettably, coerced or interned labor in some regions. Over time mechanization — better tractors, mechanical harvesters and automated slicing — reduced the need for thousands of manual diggers, even as plant operations required more specialized technical staff. Utah’s beet workers included multi-generational farm families, new immigrants, and seasonal crews that followed the beet campaigns across the West. Many small towns remember generations who “worked the beet” as a rite of passage and a dependable source of income. 

Why the industry declined

A tangle of biological, economic and political forces produced the industry’s long retreat from Utah fields. Recurrent blights in the early 20th century — the curly-top virus and beet leafhopper infestations — forced plants to close or relocate. International trade and tariff shifts sometimes depressed sugar prices; the cost of shipping, processing and capital investment was high. By mid-century other sugar sources — notably cane sugar grown in tropical regions and refined more cheaply at scale — eroded the price advantage of western beet sugar. Antitrust scrutiny and industry consolidation narrowed the number of players and led to the shuttering or sale of smaller plants. Mechanization reduced seasonal labor demand, changing the social fabric around harvest time. By the 1940s and 1950s U-I and its regional competitors had already begun dismantling or mothballing many Utah plants. 

The factories today — chimneys, cell towers and memory

Walk the fringes of parts of Utah and you’ll still see echoes: a long brick wall, a tall chimney reclaimed as a cell-tower, a rusted rail spur now a walking trail. Many of the early factories — Lehi, Payson and Elsinore among them — were dismantled mid-century and the heavy machinery sent elsewhere. The Spanish Fork plant, which processed beets from nearby Payson for years, closed in 1952; its tall smokestack remains a visible landmark along the interstate, a vertical reminder of an industry that once hummed there. The Garland facility in northern Utah continued much longer (into the 1970s) but was ultimately closed and sold. Others were converted to storage, repurposed for light industry, or demolished; in many towns the sugar factory is now a historic plaque in the museum rather than a job center. 

Nationwide consolidation concentrated sugar refining into fewer, larger, and more modern plants — often outside Utah. Some equipment lives on in museums; brick and timber from dismantled plants were recycled into civic buildings in the early 20th century. And where sugar once guaranteed cash for a season, towns had to adapt — switching to dairying, fruit, alfalfa, commuter economies, or new manufacturing. The physical traces remain uneven: some buildings preserved as industrial archaeology, others vanished but for photographs in archives. 

What Payson and surrounding communities lost — and kept

For Payson and similar Utah communities the loss of the beet era was not merely the closure of a plant; it meant the loss of a predictable, annual economic pulse. Seasonal employment opportunities dwindled, local merchants lost fall and winter revenue spikes, and some farms that had specialized in beets either switched to different crops or left agriculture entirely. Yet the industry’s infrastructure investments — improved irrigation, canals, and roads — left lasting benefits. Many families who prospered during the beet years used the earnings to buy more land or invest in local business; civic institutions such as schools and banks that were strengthened by beet dollars continued long after the factories closed. In short, the economic imprint of the sugar beet era is both disappearance and durable legacy. 

Remembrance, interpretation and the museum story

Local historical societies, markers and newspaper retrospectives have preserved the sugar story: photographs of stacked sacks of sugar, portraits of beet crews, and newspaper accounts of the seasonal bustle. In recent years Utah historians and journalists have revisited the subject, documenting its significance to rural identity and calling attention to the factories’ physical remains — like the Spanish Fork smokestack — as heritage sites. A 2024 retrospective in local press underscores how, for nearly a century, “sugar beets were everywhere in Utah; now they’re nowhere to be found,” and explores the human memory of those seasons. 

Conclusion — a crop that shaped a region

The sugar-beet industry is a classic Western story: technological optimism and agricultural engineering turned arid valleys into cash-crop country; a single crop built factories, towns and lifeways; external markets, disease and structural change eventually diminished the industry’s footprint. Utah-Idaho Sugar—through its factories, contracts and investments—helped define the economic rhythm of Payson and dozens of other communities for decades. Today the beets themselves are a chapter in local history, but their effects — irrigation works, altered land use, and the social networks of farm and factory families — continue to ripple across the Utah landscape.

For towns like Payson, the sugar beet era remains a formative episode: a time when harvest season set the clock for the community and the turnover of a railcar of beets could make the difference between prosperity and struggle. The buildings may be gone and the fields repurposed, but in town museums, historic markers and the memory of old-timers, the sugar beet is still a crop that fed more than mouths — it fed towns. 

Sources & further reading: Leonard J. Arrington, Beet Sugar in the West: A History of the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company; Utah History Encyclopedia (article: “Sugar Industry”); BYU ScholarsArchive: A History of the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company, 1891–1966; UtahRails.net and Intermountain Histories (Spanish Fork and Lehi factory histories); Deseret News feature on the sugar-beet legacy (2024).