O, the rush of wind against soaring canyon walls. The gentle tapping of a woodpecker. The delicate trickle of a mountain stream.

And above the sweet symphony of nature:

Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr.

Huntington Canyon is a place of tension for me: Motorized vs. nonmotorized. Access vs. preservation. Outdoors vs. nature.

Driving into the Manti-la Sal National Forest from Fairview, I thought I had found a spot for lots of future adventures. About 5 miles East on S.R. 31, towering aspen groves stretch over entire mountains like a jungle canopy. Ascending the Wasatch Plateau, the topography of northern Utah lays out like a school project.

Huntington Canyon itself: Stunning. Sharp green conifers set off cliffs of orange and grey. Huntington Creek gushes and tumbles along the road.

This seemed to be a place I should have heard more about.

Then, at our campsite in the Lake Canyon Rec Area, I realized I was not this destination's intended market.

What appeared to be hiking paths were actually ATV trails --- an immense network of them, crisscrossing meadows and canyons for miles. People in neon colors zipped around like race car drivers. A helpful note: When the Forest Service lists ATV trails under amenities, what they mean is "VrrRROOOOOMM, pussayhs!"

Between trails were dozens of campsites, which were classified as primitive -- no electricity, no water. So I figured it'd be just my friends and some other granolas out for a weekend of tree hugging and solitude and crapping under rocks.

Not so much. Ours was the only camp with tents. And possibly the only camp without HBO.

"Good thing they didn't have to go the weekend without satellite TV," my boyfriend sighed as we hiked past one of several RVs with discs attached to the roofs.

Did it seem a little pathetic to me, too? Yeah. I admit it. But later, as I poked at our fire and listened to the generators hum, I wondered how pathetic we seemed to them. They're probably proud of their comfortable camps. I imagined a man drifting to sleep in one of these wheeled mansions, just thrilled he put together a swank enough getup to convince his wife to spend their retirement "camping" in a place like this.

The next morning I watched grandpas and little girls riding ATVs through fields of wildflowers. It's harder to be annoyed with a memory you'd never want to take away from someone.

I didn't have enough time to get into the backcountry, but the Forest Service lists a couple of nonmotorized trails in the area. You can escape the incessant noise of generators and vehicles -- it just takes more effort in some places.

Camping culture shock is going to happen sometimes. You can let it ruin your trip. You can pack up and go elsewhere.

Or you can accept the unexpected and try to enjoy what people will buzz for miles to see.

For more Utah adventures and musings, visit Erin's blog, www.poorpenmanship.com.