Moaby Schtick
Leave it to the Mormons. They come wandering out here in the late 1800s, bump into a landscape of gigantic rock formations and mind-numbing canyons with a spectacular river running through the property and what do they call the place? Moab. Can we have a do-over?
The Spanish gave us San Francisco, the English provided Providence, the Dutch contributed Greenwich Village. The Germans delivered Anaheim and 42 Berlins. Is it any wonder then that the residents of surrounding states promptly built a fence around Utah to keep the Mormons from running loose and malnaming further villages? We don’t think so.
Right from the start, however, the name was controversial. The original Moab was a Biblical name for an area of land located on the eastern side of the Jordan River, a city teeming with incestuous and idolatrous citizens, a refuge of sinners and used-carriage salesmen. One petition in 1890 contained 59 angry signatures demanding a name change to “Vina.” Another effort thought “Uvadalia” might be nice. Obviously, these Mormons have a congenital disease which prevents proper naming. Somehow, “Moab” stuck.
The current-day city is the home of about 5200, not to mention a significant batch of galumphing tourists stomping around nearby Arches and Canyonlands national parks. Moab is not particularly interested in historical edifices or museums like Santa Fe, nor is it a cutesy haven of the arts, ala Taos. It is more a bedroom community to Arches and Canyonlands national parks and more than adequate to the job. The people who come here are hikers, bikers, rock climbers, folks who’d rather be outside mashing through the underbrush than inside speculating on geegaws and tee shirts. There are Jeep tours, jetboat rides, rafting adventures and bumpy UTV extravaganzas. If you are an overfed schlub, unfit and wobbly, you can still see a lot through your car windows. Put it on your calendar for further inspection. And don’t worry, all the Mormons have run off to Namibia, where the government lets everybody have 65 wives. Most of them are settled around the townlet of New Moab.
Arch Envy
Gargantuan Canyonlands National Park may be the bully of the bayou but nearby Arches N.P. is nothing to sneeze at. A piffling five miles down the road from lovely Moab, Arches offers 76,518 acres of colossal sandstone fins, massive balanced rocks, soaring pinnacles and a raft of hiking trails. Oh, and by the way, the name is not for nothing. They’ve got arches. Large ones, small ones, some as big as your head. Give ‘em a twist, a flick of the wrist, is what the showman said. We counted 2000 of the things before we started seeing spots in front of our eyes and gave up. A nice scenic paved drive will deliver you within range of most of the arches and you can easily wheel your walker the rest of the way.
You have a question. Why are there a ridiculous 2000-plus arches in ANP and none in my yard? A reasonable query. Go get a pencil and write all this down. Natural arches form in a variety of rock types such as limestone, slate, granite or even basalt, whatever that is. In Utah, sandstone is the most common geological substrate for their formation. Several of Utah’s sandstone bedrock units meet the favorable conditions of being strong enough to support the weight of large natural arches yet soft enough to be easily eroded by the natural processes of wind, water and gravity. The region’s semiarid climate also plays an important role in forming and maintaining the needed exposures of these sandstone units. Because of sandstone’s unique permeability and porosity, a climate that is too wet tends to destroy sandstone’s ability to form cliffs by allowing groundwater to leach out too much of the mineral cement that holds the sand grains together. Conversely, a climate which is too dry will not sustain the perennial streams responsible for the effective development of the cliffs and canyons where arches most often form.
Arch formation in Utah is also facilitated by an abundance of regional parallel joint systems or sequences of bedrock fractures. These joint systems tend to be located on the flanks of broad, gently sloping uplifts or folds. Many of the arches found in iconic places such as Arches, Capitol Reef, Canyonlands and Zion national parks, for instance, formed along deeply eroded fracture systems bordering folds created during compressional tectonic events. In Arches, subsurface salt migration played a role in creating these elongated domed structures. In other areas, such as Zion National Park, more recent extensional tectonics played a role in enlarging preexisting joint systems. Over time, these joints and fractures become exposed at the surface and erode into a network of canyons and rock fins ideal for the formation of arches.
Bottom Line: if you want an arch over your gazebo, move to Utah. Otherwise, buy a poster.
Hiking The Park
The most popular hike in Arches N. P. is to Delicate Arch, the park’s logo superstar, a three-mile round trip over shadeless ground, often open slickrock. The last part of the trail involves a rock ledge 200 yards long. The park guidebook calls this trail “difficult.” When Siobhan gets her park paraphernalia these days, she turns to the hiking trails page and crosses out anything that says “difficult.” We used to do these trails all the time but she says we’re old now and we should listen to the Clint Eastwood of Dirty Harry movies. Harry famously said, “A man has to know his limitations.” Yeah, but how do you find out what they are if you don’t overdo it every now and then?
The second major trail in Arches is the Devil’s Garden Primitive Loop, a four or five-hour perambulation which leads to eight fancy arches reached by traversing narrow ledges. “Expect rocky surface hiking and scrambling on slickrock. Not recommended when rock is wet or snowy” the book said. “What?” I asked my frowning partner. “It’s not a bit snowy.”
We took a shorter trail to a Delicate Arch viewpoint and went about halfway on the Devil’s Garden Loop, visiting four or five headline arches and avoiding narrow ledges and scary slickrock. It was a very busy trail, populated by at least half the population of China, whose natives are getting out more. We also visited the preposterous Balanced Rock, which looks like it could fall any minute now. My hiking partner didn’t tumble over any cliffs, pass out from exhaustion or break her neck scrambling on slickrock, so I guess it was a good day. Me, I like a little scare every now and then. It comes from being a lifelong Red Sox fan.
Dead Horse Point
When we were sailing the Colorado with Captain Lee and his jolly tars, the captain advised us we should make it a priority to see Dead Horse Point State Park, one of the gems of the Utah park system conveniently located right next to Canyonlands. Who’s going to argue with Captain Lee? We tootled out there on the fourth day of our Moab stay and took a peek. Not bad. It’s bike-friendly and there are miles of developed hiking trails in the park, including a paved trail which provides access to some of the most scenic views. Mountain bikers will find their bliss on the new Intrepid Trail System with slickrock sections, looping singletrack, sandy washes and incredible scenery. The view from Dead Horse Point provides a spectacular picture of a sweeping oxbow of the Colorado River some 2000 feet below, an image you’ve likely seen before.
The park’s odd name is derived from a disastrous turn of the century event. At the time, The Point was used as a corral for wild mustangs roaming the mesa top. Cowboys herded them across the narrow neck of land and onto The Point, which was fenced off with branches and brush. On one occasion, the horses were inexplicably were left penned and abandoned, dying of thirst within view of the flowing Colorado below.
Millions of years of geologic activity created the magnificent views from DHPSP. Deposition of sediments by ancient oceans, freshwater lakes, streams and wind-blown sand dunes created the rock layers of canyon country. Igneous activity formed the high mountains that rise like cool blue islands from the desert below. It’s another Beehive state wonderland and, best of all, you’ll have the place to yourself. The morning we went there were less than two dozen invaders roaming around, half of them wrapped around the smoothie truck at the modern visitor center.
Don’t forget to visit the friendly gift shop, where you can get a guaranteed official tee shirt with the name of the park emblazoned on the front. Bill did, and when he got home a chipper kid at the Orlando airport piped up, “Nice shirt, Mister, but that’s not a real place, right?” Bill smiled at the boy and nodded. “It exists alright,” he said, “but it’s hidden away far across the land in a magical kingdom called ‘Utah.’ Only the best people are allowed in.” The kid stopped in his tracks. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “I’m going there some day! I can be one of the best people.”
“Make sure you are,” Bill told him, seriously. “They check the records.”
Next week: the final installment of this year’s vacation epistle as Siobhan and Bill wend their way west to Mount Timpanogos and the Mormon stronghold at Salt Lake City. Hang around for awhile after the movie for a Q&A session with some of the leading characters and make sure you pick up one of our inexpensive CDs in the lobby.
That’s almost all, folks….
