The 6 best things to do in West Point.

The honest short version is that this is a flat, paved path you can walk or ride straight out of town, laid on the bed of an old wagon route across the west county. West Point calls it the Emigrant Trail and counts 2.5 miles of it inside the city, which is the figure to trust when the walking apps quote longer numbers under other names. There is one place to leave the car, a plain lot by the cemetery, and it holds nothing but the parking.

One thing has changed this year, and it is the reason to look before you load the bikes. A stretch in the middle of the path is shut while the new highway is built over the top of it, and the reopening keeps being given as later in the autumn rather than a firm date. The open ends of the West Point section still work. The apps have not registered any of this, so the reliable source is the highway project's own site rather than a trail directory, and it is worth a second check closer to the day.

The wagon history underneath it, the tangle of four names, the argument over where you can actually park, and the second paved path along the southern edge of town are all worked through on the trail page. This entry is only whether to go and what to watch.

Schneiter's Bluff is the biggest patch of mown grass in a farm town, and it is open to anyone. It is an eighteen hole public course at 300 North 3500 West, par 72 and about 6,840 yards from the back tees, opened in 1995 and run by the Schneiter family, whose name is also on the bluff it sits on. The city's parks plan puts the course at 136.3 acres, which is larger than every city park, the cemetery and all the city's open space put together, and credits it with much of the green, open feel of the west side of town.

What the course does not do is publish a rate you can plan around. Green fees reset by season, the operator posts a scorecard and a booking system rather than a price list, and the aggregators that quote a number are not the operator. The honest version is a real municipal scale course you book ahead: reserve a tee time online or ring the pro shop on 801-773-0731, and the course notes that spectators under eighteen are not allowed. A player who calls ahead has a good morning; a non golfer who drives 3500 West onto the bluff and stops where the fields open up gets the view for nothing.

The bluff itself is the one landform in an otherwise level city, a thirty foot step that decides which side of town drains and which of two water districts sends the bill. That is a subject in its own right, and it is on the Schneiter's Bluff page, which is about the ground rather than the golf.

Party at the Point is West Point's Fourth of July, and unusually it lands on the Fourth itself rather than sliding to a nearby weekend, which means the day of the week moves each year. It takes over Loy Blake Park for the whole day and it is mostly free to walk into: a morning parade, a fun run, a handful of yard game tournaments, contests for children, and fireworks over the park after dark. For a town of about eleven thousand it is a big, generous day out.

The detail worth carrying is the timing around it. A golf scramble runs at Schneiter's Bluff the morning before, so the town's biggest event and its biggest green sit back to back on the calendar. And if you would rather be in the day than at it, the entry forms go up early: the first of March is when the parade and vendor applications open, four months ahead of the event.

The exact schedule, the scramble's price and booking line, the honorees that change every year, and the couple of things the city keeps off the page, such as the parade route and where the fireworks go up, are on the Party at the Point page. This entry is only the shape of the day.

The western horizon of West Point is a marsh, not a park, and it is worth understanding even if you never walk into it. Point checks at the Census Bureau's own geocoder put the city's whole western frontage in unincorporated Davis County, so West Point looks out across county wetland toward the open Great Salt Lake without touching it. That water sits north of the Antelope Island causeway, which means it is not Farmington Bay; the bay is the arm of the lake south of the causeway. The managed marsh out here is the Howard Slough State Waterfowl Management Area.

It is a working, muddy place run by the wildlife division, with salt and freshwater marsh, drivable dikes and ponds, and species the division tracks including American avocet, northern shoveler, eared grebe and ring billed gull. The division is candid that access on the dikes and the mudflat is limited, so viewing distances are long; this is binoculars from a dike rather than a boardwalk. Since 1 July 2026 anyone entering a listed management area needs either a Utah hunting or fishing license or the division's free digital access permit, and Howard Slough is on that list.

The permit itself, how long it lasts and how the whole system works are written once for the whole county on the Farmington Bay and the birding page, and the marsh below the bluff is described from West Point's side on the Schneiter's Bluff page. Sort the permit first, then let the county page tell you where the birding actually is.

When Loy Blake is busy, the town has two smaller parks that most out of town lists miss. East Park, at 2550 West 330 North, runs to 14.2 acres with two ball fields, a playground, a hundred person pavilion and two smaller ones, sand volleyball, a fire pit and, the useful part, 0.61 miles of perimeter pathway to walk. It has water but no power, and 153 parking spaces. It is a genuine community park that happens to sit in the shadow of the bigger one.

Arnold T. Bingham Memorial Park, at 4550 West 550 North, is the neighborhood park on the west side of the city, below Schneiter's Bluff. The parks plan gives it 8.8 acres with a baseball field, a multipurpose field, a playground, two sand volleyball courts, three small pavilions, mature trees and 0.54 miles of its own perimeter path. The honest caveat is that it has neither power nor water and 57 parking spaces, so it is a walk and a play in the shade rather than a place to run an event. Between the two, and the tiny East Pocket Park, which the city describes plainly as a grassed detention basin with a single basketball hoop, you have the rest of what the town owns.

Both keep the same city hours, seven in the morning to ten at night or dark, both welcome dogs on a leash, and both are free. The bluff that Bingham sits below, and why one side of it drains and the other does not, is on the Schneiter's Bluff page.