A roof replacement takes your home back to bare wood and rebuilds the entire weatherproofing system from the deck up — not another layer of shingles over the old one, and not a fifth patch on a slope that's given up. For a Salt Lake City home, you usually land here because the sun finally won. At around 4,300 feet the UV is harsher than the shingle wrapper accounts for, and asphalt rated for 30 years often looks its age closer to 20 here.
The other common path is water. Older homes in the Avenues, Sugar House, and Rose Park were built with shallow eaves and attics that don't breathe well, so snowmelt refreezes at the edge, backs up under the shingles, and rots the decking before you ever see a stain. From the ground, watch for shingles curling or going bald across a whole slope, granules collecting where your downspouts drain, and lifted or rusted metal in the valleys.
Inside, check the attic after a storm: dark streaks on the sheathing, damp insulation, or a stain along the top of an exterior wall tell you more than the shingles do. Not every tired roof needs to come off. We get on it, photograph what we find, and tell you straight whether you're out of life or a repair and better ventilation will buy you a few more winters.