Ah, Here’s the Utah I Expected

And then some.

The drive to Moab from Las Vegas is long and easy, 244 miles in one day, close to my preferred max. Cruising at 55mph alongside 75mph traffic, astounded by the constantly changing scenery. Farms and fields, pinyon-dotted hills and willow/cottonwood forests along rivers. Rocky canyons in black, creams, white, reds, oranges. Rock all folded together and jutting every which way. Plains of only sand and scrub. An aqua sky giving way to cloud cover darkened with rain in the distance. Mesas and plateaus standing like stepping stones in a dried creek bed. Highway that has been blasted through mountains in man-made canyons, or poured as asphalt in ribbons across flatlands. Wow, wow, wow, was all I could get out after each new turn. No ten minutes of terrain were alike.

Entering Emery County brought immediate canyons, like the world is one great big gravel pit. Most of these photos were taken at Salt Wash viewpoint. The two viewpoints I stopped at were lined with people selling bead necklaces and other jewelry, painted pottery, and Indian “artifacts” right under signs saying “No Vendors”!








Staying at Spanish Trails RV Park in Moab, a few miles south of town. Good park. A patch of fresh lush grass for Patchouli, a freshly painted picnic table, a bit of adobe-colored concrete walkway right beside the rig. Almost every spot has a shade tree—mine has one on each side for morning and afternoon shade, plus a western view of trees and cliffs.

Patchouli seems very happy here. Took a long walk and he parked himself in several places.



The sky tonight at 5:30 for dinner is blue with white clouds in the northwest, rimmed with silver white over the cliffs behind the restaurant. Dark steel in the southeast where Hwy 191 disappears into the horizon. Lightning strikes like a needle flashing in sunlight—there and gone almost before the brain has registered it, like falling star seen at the edge of eye and sky.

Dinner at Moab Microbrewery—tried the Dead Horse Ale, advertised as “a mid-hoppy brew served ice cold from the serving tank; ‘Dead Horse Ale’ is named after the scenic overlook near Canyonlands. A traditional English mild ale with a well-balanced malt-to-hop ratio. The perfect beer to compliment [sic] all foods.” It was quite good.

The house-made lime chipotle salad dressing was the best part of my meal of smoked chicken with garlic red potatoes and slaw. Too bad they don’t sell it at the in-house store. I’d like to try making it—lime, olive oil, roasted chipotle peppers, and cilantro all ground up and mixed together would be a great start. Or maybe even pureeing a good chipotle salsa with fresh lime juice would work.