Picto Diary - 01 to 04 July 2026 - Provo, UT Fourth of July Parade

Above: Mint Indian Bistro. Washington, UT. 02 July 2026.

We love this place. Today we dined here with friends Liz and Kent. Mint is part of a chain restaurant with five units in Las Vegas. This place in St. George, UT is Mint's first foray out of Las Vegas.

Any Indian restaurant that serves Thums Up Cola (see image) has to be authentic. Beware an Indian restaurant that does not offer Thums Up cola.

Thums Up is one of India's most iconic cola brands, known for its bold, spicy, and strongly carbonated taste tailored to Indian preferences. It remains a market leader in the country under Coca-Cola's ownership.

In 1977, Coca-Cola left India after FERA rules forced formula disclosure and 60% equity sale to locals. Parle Group's Ramesh Chauhan seized the gap, launching Thums Up as a homegrown cola. Named after the "thumbs up" approval gesture (dropping the "b" for uniqueness), its early slogan was "Happy days are here again." Formulated fizzier, spicier, and more robust for India's climate—even without ice—it stood out from milder foreign colas.

Thums Up rapidly became market leader with ~85% cola share by the early 1990s, beating rivals like Campa Cola and Double Seven. A key hit was the value-priced 300 ml "MahaCola" bottle. Aggressive marketing via cricket sponsorships and celebrities built its "strong and adventurous" image. After 1991 liberalization, Pepsi entered aggressively, followed by Coca-Cola's 1993 return. In late 1993, Coca-Cola acquired Thums Up and other Parle brands for $60 million. Despite initial attempts to sideline it for Coke, strong consumer loyalty forced a revival.

Repositioned as a bolder, masculine Indian cola with campaigns like "Taste the Thunder" (featuring Salman Khan and Shah Rukh Khan), it retained its distinct stronger taste, higher fizz, and caffeine. It thrives as a separate brand in Coca-Cola's portfolio, becoming its first billion-dollar Indian brand by 2021 and outperforming Coke in segments. Still hugely popular in rural and semi-urban areas as India's "homegrown" cola, Thums Up exemplifies local entrepreneurship that survived globalization while keeping its core appeal.

Above: Iron Canyon, Park City, UT. 03 July 2026.
Sand Hill Crane family. Mom, Dad, and chick.

Above: Forum Fest Drone Show. Canyons, UT. 03 July 2026.

Well done. Impressive. Still a poor substitute for real fireworks. Fireworks were banned this 4th of July given dry, fire prone, conditions throughout the state.

Above: Freedom Festival Fourth of July Parade, Provo, UT 04 July 2026.

Image: Provo High School Marching Band. I marched as a participant in this band, trombonist, in 1962 and 1963. Being here today as a band observer if not a band participant closes a sixty year plus loop.

For the fifth glorious year in a row, I returned like a homing pigeon to the Freedom Festival Fourth of July Parade in Provo, Utah—a beacon of patriotism that never fails please.

From 1999 through 2021, I was a faithful regular at Park City’s Fourth of July parade, where the mountain air once crackled with small-town charm. But one year, watching rainbow flags being handed out like candy to wide-eyed children along the route, I felt a quiet tug toward something deeper. So, I traded that scene for Provo’s heartfelt rhythm, where eager young Mormon missionaries stride the parade route to thunderous cheers—symbols of faith, service, and the enduring American spirit.

Provo’s 4th of July Grand Parade is the glittering crown jewel of America’s Freedom Festival, one of the grandest Independence Day celebrations in the nation. It bursts to life at 9 a.m. on July 4th, sweeping down University Avenue and Center Street in downtown Provo. Over 300,000 spectators pour in, many camping out overnight like devoted pilgrims to claim their perfect patch of sidewalk.

The whole day pulses with timeless themes of God, family, freedom, and country—vintage floats gliding like memories on wheels, fighter jets roaring overhead in perfect formation, and a warm, unbreakable sense of community that wraps around you like a well-worn flag.

I hopped on my motorcycle for the breezy one-hour ride from Park City, knowing two wheels are the golden ticket when parking turns into a mythic quest. I cruised straight to my old stomping grounds—400 East and Center Street—three-quarters of the way down the route, where childhood echoes still linger in the summer breeze. This year, a police barrier blocked the street a block away. I politely asked the officer if I could slip through on my bike. “Easy parking on two wheels,” I grinned. With a knowing nod and a smile, he waved me on—like an old friend granting passage back in time.

The crowd was magnificent. Stepping toward the parade route, I was swept into a sea of red, white, and blue—twenty people deep, families nestled on lawn chairs and blankets, kids perched on shoulders, everyone glowing with unfiltered joy. The air hummed with pure patriotism, thick as summer honey. And true to Utah County, the world’s vibrant heart of cultural Mormonism, the streets overflowed with children and young people—laughing, waving flags, eyes sparkling with wonder—in numbers that feel like a beautiful, hopeful throwback to simpler days.

I soaked in every float, every marching band, every cheer. Then I wandered through my old neighborhood, the very streets where I rode bikes and hung out with neighborhood friends, from second grade until high school graduation. The sights, the sounds, the proud, patriotic heartbeat of 2026 Utah County filled me with the sweetest nostalgia—a warm, golden rush of belonging, like coming home to find the porch light still burning bright. God bless America, and God bless this corner of it that still remembers what freedom feels like.

Above: Iron Canyon. 04 July 2026.
Fourth of July barbeque at Granny's.
Image: Becca, Drums, Harrison, Z, and Grrr.