I’ve a fair amount of personal history in the Moab area from when I lived in Colorado. In the 1990s, it wasn’t uncommon for me to hop on over to Utah for cycling events (the first-or second?- 24 Hours of Moab Mountain Bike Race); solo camping adventures in Arches National Park or pit-stopping in Green River for pancakes after back-packing in Canyonlands. Even so, my breath was taken away once we turned off the I-70 and the vista opened up onto Utah’s famous red rock country. All those wind and rain carved domes, towers and turrets just don’t get old, even if they’re ancient.
It was more than 100 degrees when we rolled into town to stock up on food for the next couple of days and I was doubting our plan. July really wasn’t the best time to be going to the desert but here we were. I’d reserved a yurt for two nights at Dead Horse Point State Park, an often overlooked park situated between the more famous Arches and Canyonlands (there was a line of traffic waiting to get into Arches when we drove past the entrance). Would we even be able to hike in such heat? I was most concerned about making sure we had enough water before we checked in. I recalled that long ago backpacking trip, how hot it was then, even before climate-change-enhanced heat extremes were a thing. I flashed on how we’d gone through our water more quickly than we anticipated, relieved only by a surprise afternoon rainstorm.
But we weren’t backpacking at Dead Horse Point — named for an unfortunate incident at the canyon’s edge — which turned out to be a few degrees cooler than Moab. Plus it had some water on site ( if no showers). Moreover, with its 360-degree views of the vast canyon carved by the Colorado River and crystal clear starlit night skies, the park was pure magic. There is nothing like staring at a record of deep time to feel both limitless and inconsequential at the same time. The sageland was full of Lark Sparrows and Jackrabbits and Peregrine Falcons flew over the canyon’s edge. We hiked in the morning and at dusk and had more than comfortable shelter in our yurt.
But some things aren’t limitless and we humans are consequential. On our first night, we went to the Sunset Ranger talk and got both a dose of both more wonder and a sobering reality check. While she extolled us with information about the geologic record laid out before us with its dinosaur tracks, turtle fossils, ancient seabeds, the result of millions of years of the Colorado River carving its way toward the ocean, she gave us some stark facts about the Colorado River’s current status. Seven states are dependent on the Colorado for their water…and due to overuse1, the river hasn’t reached the ocean since 2014. Ugh.
“Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, and as vital to our lives as water and good bread. A civilization which destroys what little remains of the wild, the spare, the original, is cutting itself off from its origins and betraying the principle of civilization itself.”
― Edward Abbey 2
‘A River in Crisis: Dire conditions in the Colorado River Basin call for collaborative solutions.’ The Nature Conservancy, 2022