Usually when I write on this blog about some local landmark, it’s to mourn that object’s seemingly inevitable passing. Happily, this is the opposite case: it appears that a landmark that was lost — the tram that used to soar high over Bridal Veil Falls — may be rebuilt within the next year or so.

For any out-of-towners who may be reading, Bridal Veil Falls is one of the prettiest natural features in the northern part of Utah. Located about halfway up Provo Canyon, it’s a waterfall (as you no doubt surmised from the name) that cascades over a very tall cliff face; the water spreads horizontally across the rocks during its drop and creates a great deal of mist, suggesting the diaphonous appearance of its namesake. There’s a photo of Bridal Veil here; to get a proper sense of scale, look for the hikers near the bottom of the image.

Up until just a few years ago, there was a small aerial tram at the site that would whisk tourists from the base of the falls to a restaurant at the top of the cliff. I remember hearing radio ads for Saturday-night dances there when I was in middle school, and thinking it would be an awesome place to snuggle up with someone and try to fall in love; unfortunately, the dances were no longer being held by the time I got old enough to actually go to one. I did ride the tram once, however, and while I don’t know if it really was “The World’s Steepest,” as its owners claimed, it was definitely a vertigo-inducing experience. The cable car rose more quickly than it appeared to from the ground, and at about a 70-degree angle, so you felt as if you were rising almost straight up at a breakneck speed. You also felt as if the cables were going to bring you dangerously close to the falls themselves, although I suspect that was just a trick of perspective.

The tram was destroyed by an avalance in 1996. I didn’t think much of it when the disaster first happened, because I just assumed the owners would rebuild. But as the first year after the avalance became two, and then eventually five, I came to think it was pretty unlikely that it would ever happen. I usually drive up that canyon several times every summer, and seeing the crushed ruins of the old wheelhouse and snack bar looking a little more dilapidated and weathered each year has been like watching a time-lapse photo montage of a decomposing corpse.

But now the family that owns the property — and the remains of the old tram — have unexpectedly resurfaced. They’re asking for financial help to fulfill a vision of opening a new tramway by 2008, complete with concessions, a gift shop, and access to hiking trails at the top of the line.

I hope they get their money. If the resurrected tram is successful, maybe they’ll even start hosting dances at the top again…