To get to Eagle Mountain, go to Lehi and drive west. Drive for 10 miles, past the dry farms, out into a valley of sagebrush surrounded by brown mountains.

You know you've arrived when you see a sign that says "City Center." The sign is pointing to nothing, it seems, but it is your clue to look south. Off in the distance, you'll see Eagle Mountain: a clump of beige stucco houses.

According to the 2000 Census, one in every five people in Eagle Mountain isn't old enough to go to kindergarten — and that statistic doesn't reflect the 500 children born since the census was taken. Mostly white, mostly Mormon, lots of babies — Eagle Mountain would seem to be Utah only more so. The Eagle Mountain Electronic Village Web site boasts that the Eagle Mountain Stake of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is "the fastest growing stake in the world."

There are places that help define Utah, and Eagle Mountain might seem to be one of them. Oh, it's no La Verkin, which recently voted itself right out of the United Nations. Still, Eagle Mountain is considering adopting an ordinance that would require a permit for gatherings of more than 30 people. To understand Utah, then, you might drive some morning to Eagle Mountain.

To understand Utah you might also look for Eagle Mountain's polar opposite. And you might think you've hit the jackpot when you stumble upon an advertisement that reads "Club @ Fetish Fridays. Blue Boutique Fashion Show. Naughty Nurse Give-Aways. '80s mod, inds & Gothic."

And so you write it on your calendar: Wednesday morning at Eagle Mountain. Friday night with the Goths.

Eagle Mountain was created five years ago from scratch, plunked down in the middle of nowhere with its own fire department and its own motto ("town of the future, values of the past"). The housing is pretty inexpensive, so that's the biggest draw. But like the pioneers who found solace in a similar landscape, the 4,000 people who have moved to Eagle Mountain are also happy to have found a place where a family can be separate from the ills of rest of the world and, at the same time, share space with people who, they hope, share the same values.

This interplay of yearnings — the desire for separateness and the desire to belong — has been Utah's theme since Mormon pioneers first settled the state.

Maren Black moved to Eagle Mountain last year after a disturbing few months in West Valley City. Black grew up in Orem, was married at 20 and moved to an apartment in West Valley City, on a street lined with fast food and strip malls as far as the eye can see. There were five shootings that year in her neighborhood, Black says, and one day she and her baby came home to find their sliding glass door shattered. The only neighbor woman she had befriended worked during the day. "I felt like a hermit in my little space till Brandon came home at night."