Travel Spotlight: Moab, Utah

View from Route 191, Moab, UT

Arches National Park, Moab, UT

The following are several first-hand accounts from a trip I made to Moab, Utah in May of 2008. Few places I have ever been -internationally or on American soil- have captured my heart and imagination like Moab. I have only scratched the surface of this outdoor adventurer’s playground, but the little I did soak in has me addicted. Beautiful, mysterious and inspiring are three words that come to mind when I think of Moab, but no descriptive word or photograph can come close to giving it the justice it rightly deserves. In this case, only seeing is believing.

An undiscovered land
The sun is setting as I wind down Route 191 (also known as Dinosaur Diamond Prehistoric Highway) in eastern Utah, just beyond the western Colorado border. In the distance, red sandstone buttes and mysterious rock formations protrude from the open range. This vast expanse of Utah feels quite lonesome; however, it was once home to the Dinosaurs, Anasazi Indians and the famed cowboys of the “Wild West”- all who have engraved traces of their existence into the landscape. As I draw closer to my destination, Moab, UT, the terrain grows increasingly rugged and once far off rock formations now loom over the highway, producing eery, dark shadows. To the west, the firey sun is sinking behind the 12,000 foot tall La Sal mountain range. There is snow on the range, and the ghostly white peaks look particularly striking against the deep red sandstone formations, now emitting an orange glow in the twilight.

Given the anticipation built up during my six-hour drive from Denver, I can not bare to shell up in a hotel room and be forced to wait until morning to explore the wondrous surprises of this magical land. I spot a sign ahead for Arches National park and gladly take the exit. Winding up the dizzying park entrance road, I carve through layers of sandstone, formed over millions of years of erosion, and gain several thousand feet in elevation, finally to immerge on top of a plateau overlooking the town of Moab. The meandering two lane asphalt road, added in the 1960’s, leads cautiously into the 76,000 acre park, meanwhile the dramatic rock formations take on peculiar and sometimes haunting configurations. It’s almost 9pm and nearly dark, and at every turn I am greeted by towering walls of rock that appear as shadowy giants. The car headlights spot a multitude of desert cacti, flowers and tumbleweeds along the road, as well as a triangular, yellow warning sign depicting a leaping mountain lion. I soon spot a well known park feature at 3 o’clock- it’s Balanced Rock, a massive ovular and oblong chunk of rock, balancing on top of a thin vertical section of sandstone. There is a pull off with parking for visitors adjacent to the monument, so I pull in and shut the car off. I step outside, into the dark, under a blanket of immaculate stars and a full moon beaming overhead. The stark silence leaves me awestruck.

‘Balanced Rock’, Arches National Park

The park is empty, it’s almost midnight, and there is not a soul to be found. To elevate the melodrama of this postcard-like scene, a jet black raven swoops down and perches proudly on a nearby wooden fence. I stand speechless and take in the wonder of Arches National Park, and begin to think of the people who once made this seemingly inhospitable place their home. No water, little vegetation, summer temperatures of 130+ degrees and unforgiving terrain leave any thought of surviving alone in Arches a miracle at best.

More surprises to come
It’s early the next morning, and today I’ve decided to tackle a portion of the massive Canyon Lands National Park, which lies due south of Moab. Canyonlands is divided into several sub-regions, all with various degrees of accessibility. Several ‘rim roads’ allow visitors to drive atop the 2,000 deep canyon, taking in all-encompassing views. After several hours of navigating the rim roads of the ‘Islands in the Sky’ district, I’ve decided to drive to the ‘Needles’ district, which offers opportunities to explore the base of the massive canyon.  The Needles is named for thousands of towering sandstone spires formed from millions of years of erosion. The park has only been explored extensively since the 1960’s and much of the territory seems untouched by humans hands, aside from the rugged and unkempt dirt roads that wind through it. After my Arches experience, I was sure to be unimpressed with anything Canyon Lands could offer. I was dead wrong! After peering into the 2,000 foot deep canyon from the overlook on the rim road just hours ago, I knew that setting foot on the canyon floor was a must. I was now in the heart of the park, amidst towering spires, pinnacles, pedestals and sheer vertical walls of nothing but red rock. The park is surprisingly vacant on this sunny spring day, aside from a lone cyclist and scampering lizards, dashing from rock to rock in search of some shade.

Approximately 15 minutes after passing the visitors center, I reach my first stop -”Newspaper Rock”- a giant, flat stone face, covered in ancient petroglyphs, marked by various Indian tribes as a sign of communication. The indigenous people of this incredible landscape now feel real and present, although it’s still difficult to image humans living in such a harsh environment. As I browse the literature that I picked up at the park entrance, I learn that Canyonlands was also once home to the great Dinosaurs, which is quite befitting given the monstrous scale of its topographical features. I begin to wonder what other surprises I will stumble upon during my afternoon in The Needles, and a great sense of anxiousness overcomes me.

Canyonlands National Park, Utah

Feeling adventurous -and needing to stretch my legs- I opt for exploring the spaghetti-like network of trails that wind through the park. Many of the guided trails follow dried up washes where water once flowed and are marked only by rock cairns, placed by the park staff and hikers. When no cairns are to be found, navigating the labyrinth of paths is quite disorienting, so I continue with hesitance.

Three hours and two gallons of water later, I immerge onto the main dirt road that leads through the park. The intense sun is beating down hard and I wipe my brow in exhaustion. I have conquered a marginal portion of the mighty canyon, and while my trek was quite amateur, a proud sense of accomplishment comes over me. What it must have been like for the early settlers of the West to stumble upon this grand landscape for the first time. No park literature or trail maps. No prior expectations or stereotypes. Just a hunger for blazing new trails and pioneering a legacy for us all to cherish.