Southeast Utah

By Ron Georg

“So, what should we do today?” one of my relatives asked on the first morning of their visit. Since they’d arrived after dark, figured that was an easy one. They hadn’t seen anything yet. “I’d start with Arches National Park; if you leave early, you can sign up for an interpretive tour of the Fiery Furnace.” That would leave me with the rest of the coffee and the morning paper. So why were they still standing there, staring blankly at me?
“But what’s there to see there?” another asked. “I mean, it’s just a buncha rocks, right?”

Yes, that’s true. While Southeastern Utah’s ecology is incredibly varied, ranging from the desert edge of the Colorado Plateau all the way up to the high alpine peaks of the Manti-La Sal National Forest, the landscape is dominated by rock.

It’s petrified sand poured into spires as if from a celestial child at the beach; it’s stone drawn across impossible spans by geologic volition; it’s rock walls rising so dizzyingly high, feet apart, they inspire vertigo from the bottom up. This rock is art, architecture, and magic.

Sure, geologists have less romantic interpretations. Their descriptions can be fascinating as they deconstruct unconformities and anticlines; they can explain a giant boulder atop a natural pedestal until it seems perfectly logical that it never topples. But they don’t account for our reaction  to it, the expansion of our senses and our notions of possibility.

Unrestricted by the confines they usually endure, senses open up and reach out in vast landscapes. Vision strains to the horizon in places where a raven’s wings can be heard to roar, while a cliff rose smells like it was spilled into the crisp air, billowing out over the ripe pistils of the Indian paintbrush, so sweet hummingbirds will fly miles for a taste.

 It is hard to indulge all those senses from the seat of a car, even with the windows open. However, a windshield doesn’t preclude a sensory rush from this dramatic topography. Author and agitator Edward Abbey decried the introduction of automobiles to many wild spaces, but even he appreciated the hypnotism of speeding through open space — albeit without regard for open container laws.

To draw yourself into the view from the passenger seat, indulge a childhood daydream technique. Roll down the window, feeling the blast of dry air. Stick your hand out, fingers together, and point your slightly cupped hand into the wind. Now that you’ve got lift, use your hand to trace the rock horizon, to dive into the canyons and soar up to the rims.

Now realize that while this technique provides slacker fun on a road trip anywhere with scenery, here you can turn this fantasy to real experience. Wile E. Coyote’s Acme products, designed to blast the desperate predator across the contoured terrain, have got nothing on the modern array of devices that smooth the rocky terrain.

Of course, of all the backcountry pursuits vying for the extreme title, the first in this area was river running. That spot, as the first step in the adventure ladder is appropriate for this sport that will always keep to its own level, at the lowest altitudes. Mountain bikers and off-roaders are seeking what comes naturally to a river, or a cupped hand out the window, that is, flow.

In the heat of the desert summer here, the river provides another thing everyone seeks—a break from the heat. Especially from June through August, river running provides the best combination of summer sloth and cool relief, mixed with the occasional nerve-jangling thrill.

The most accessible boating in the Southeastern area is just outside Moab. Highway 128 is more commonly known as The River Road, as it parallels the Colorado River for forty miles. A twenty-mile portion of that, from Hittle Bottom to the Bureau of Land Management Boat Ramp, is widely known as The Daily for the steady procession of one-day outfitter tours that ply the river during the warm months.

The easiest way to get on the water is to join one of those tours. A full day tour will usually include lunch on a scenic beach, with the benefit of a guide who’ll be versed in a variety of sciences, social and otherwise, and in the fine art of manipulating local lore to enhance the whole picture.

(Disclaimer: I am a retired mountain bike guide. After five years of leading people into the backcountry, I burned out on hearing my own stories. And while I’d never tell a fib, who am I to say what’s apocryphal? As a guest instructed me, through a thick Brooklyn accent, when I tried to apologize for not having a definitive answer, “Just tell me something, Ron, that’s what I’m paying for; whaddya think, I’m gonna look it up?” It may not have been good advice for a guide or a writer, but it is useful.)

To take full advantage of a Daily adventure, see if your outfitter will bring along a beginner-friendly solo boat such as a sit-on-top kayak or an inflatable kayak (a “duckie” in river jargon). The larger rafts that are standard for the tours are fun, but you may not get the chance to get flipped in a rapid, slurped through a hole (a euphemism for “whirlpool”), and dragged out of the drink by your life jacket, if that sounds like your thing.

The good part about the Daily is it’s just a class II stretch of river, which means a person wearing a life vest (correctly) is just about perfectly safe swimming the entire stretch. You may get a little water up your nose, but you’d be otherwise unscathed. That also makes the Daily an excellent place to learn about whitewater, and most of the local outfitters offer whitewater instruction for those looking to get out on their own.

While river outfitters were the first adventure tourism businesses in this area, no sport or activity has been so thoroughly identified with this area than mountain biking. According to a recent readers’ poll conducted by Mountain Bike Magazine, Moab remains the number one choice as a dream destination by off-road bicyclists. It’s been that way since the first published photos of the Slickrock Trail, a fantastic collection of domes and fins as unlikely and inviting as a Dr. Suess landscape.

Slickrock made Moab famous for mountain biking. That’s led around 150,000 people a year to the area just to ride the route. While that can mean some crowding in the parking area during peak times in spring and fall, the trail itself is expansive enough to absorb the hordes. In fact, the busiest times can be the most entertaining as colorful cyclists lend a sense of pageantry, and some slapstick, to the ride.

Despite the trail’s popularity, it is rather difficult. The thirteen-mile route sees more search and rescue operations than any other spot around Moab — more than most others combined, in fact. It’s a place where you can see huge landmarks, like the La Sal Mountains, and still be lost. On a hot day, you can down half a gallon of water over a couple of hours and still be dangerously dehydrated out on the sun-soaked rock.

That’s why, for novices and experts alike, a stop at one of the five local bike shops provides a good reality check. Staffed by cyclists who’ve often turned their backs on paychecks and success just to ride, the shops can help steer you toward the right trail. Whether you want adrenaline or endorphins, or you’re seeking sociability or solitude, Moab’s shop employees can help. They’ll also tell you to carry more water, and they’ll be right. If you should return to the car with half your supply, just imagine what could have happened if a mechanical problem left you walking ten miles.

So, you may be wondering, which of these fine activities did my relatives choose? Well, the river looked too muddy (don’t let that deter you — it doesn’t feel  as muddy as it looks), so that was out. Bicycles require balance and fitness, so mountain biking didn’t appeal to these particular relatives. Hiking, another popular local activity, presented similar issues.

Well then, how about a motorized tour? In Moab you can hire a Jeep, Land Cruiser, Humvee, or Unimog (a Mercedes military rig) to show you the sights. You can even rent a Jeep, although chances are good you won’t go near the routes some of the guides might show you.

Ultimately that’s what my relatives decided on, since they’d arrived in their own SUV anyway. They took a beautiful drive along the mesas that separate Moab and the La Sal Mountains, along the La Sal Loop Road. I believe they even took a detour south on Highway 191 to visit Hole n” (sic) the Rock, a roadside attraction created from the home of a stone cutter who tunneled his way into the rock, filling the space with odd sculpture and taxidermy.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve been too busy exploring the backcountry to stop in, but I’m sure I’ll get there someday, so that I can truly understand what we mean when we say this area has something for everyone.

Ron Georg, a freelancer for several publications in Southern Utah, is a skilled bike mechanic or, as he so succinctly puts it, “wrenches for beer and bike parts.” Be that as it may, Ron knows the territory, having mountain biked, hiked, climbed and kayaked practically everything there is to bike, hike, climb or kayak in and around his native Moab.

More information about Moab and area:  www.discovermoab.com     www.utahscanyoncountry.com