A Webcam Has Its Run at a Moab RV Park - 2011

 

A Webcam Has Its Run at a Moab RV Park

In late May 2011, I traveled to my favorite town of Moab, Utah. As usual, I planned to stay at the Moab Rim RV Campark & Cabins. For many years, the Campark owners, Sue and Jim Farrell have been my hosts each spring and fall. Earlier, when I had called to make a reservation, Sue asked if I would like my usual spot, down at the south end, away from most of the activity. Of course, I said, “Yes”, having lived in that spot for three months during 2006. The nearly unimpeded view of the La Sal Range from my front door makes that spot special to me.

 

In Moab, it had been a cold, snowy winter and a tumultuous spring. After some good weather in early spring, one after another, storms rolled through Southeast Utah. Rather than a typical spring thaw in the Sierra La Sal, the snowpack held and even grew in May. Upon arrival, all I could see on the mountains was a sea of snow clouds, dumping their moisture on the upper peaks. From across the Spanish Valley, the La Sal Range is one of those rare snowfields where you can actually see the snow falling through the sky.

 

By my second afternoon in Moab, the rain showers at the RV Park ended and the clouds began clearing from the mountains. As the sun made a brief afternoon appearance, it bathed the whole area in golden light. The unexpected sunshine brought campers out from their coaches and tents. On a clear spring afternoon, the Moab sun brings new depth of color to both the mountains and the sky.

 

While I was out looking around, I came upon a two-year-old boy and his father. They and the boy’s mother were first-time RVers, traveling through the High Southwest. The father expressed disappointment that all of the Colorado Riverway campgrounds were full. Since it was still days away from the Memorial Day weekend, I assume that he did not drive down Kane Creek Road to the BLM campgrounds there. To him, a night with electrical, water and a sewer hook-up meant one fewer day spent in a self-contained wilderness experience.

 

The young boy answered to Mikael, or a name close to that. By his playful, two-year-old looks and actions, I supposed he might be the next Archangel Mikael, stopping in Moab to enjoy a three-dimensional, time-space reality. As I spoke with his father, young Mikael romped around in the gravel and even threw his first stone. Up it went, landing gently on his father’s head, where it slowly slid away. Shocked to see Mikael throw the rock and equally shocked by its landed on his head, the father admonished his son, “Not to throw rocks”. Young Mikael listened for a moment and then ran off to play.

 

At the Moab Rim Campark, a cloudless sunset is always a treat. That means that the last rays of the setting sun will find their way to a part of the Moab Rim that I call the Moab Acropolis. My Moab Acropolis consists of two oversized blocks of eroded sandstone sitting at the highest point of the Moab Rim. Both the Moab Acropolis and its namesake, the Acropolis of Athens, rest upon rocky perches. As the sun set that late spring day, it illuminated that crest from Behind the Rocks, lighting up the sides of my twin imaginary buildings.  

 

In my coach that evening, I uploaded that day’s images from my camera to my laptop computer. Next, I burned a CD of pictures for the father and son. Since it was late, I did not disturb them that evening. The next morning, when I awoke, young Archangel Mikael and his parents were gone. I assume that they headed away from civilization and towards the High Southwest campground of their dreams. Perhaps someday, father or son will Google the term “Moab Rim Campark” and find this article. If they contact me, I still have that CD of Moab memories ready to mail.

 

As many people know, Moab is “Jeep Country, USA”. From the annual Easter Jeep Safari to the many Jeep trails within Grand County, a Jeep is the vehicle of choice for locals and visitors alike. If you own a Toyota or a Land Cruiser, they will still greet you and treat you nicely, but secretly they will be wondering why you did not buy a Jeep. In one of my walks around the RV Park, the only vehicles I saw parked there were Jeeps. Then, to disprove my point, along came a converted military Humvee.

 

The next morning, Jim Farrell and I got into his Jeep Wrangler Limited and headed south on U.S. Highway 191. “The color of this Jeep is Mango-Tango”, Jim told me. About ten miles south of the RV Park, we turned left from the highway and onto an unmarked dirt road. About a mile from the highway, we stopped at the Desert Rocks Festival 2011 check-in location at Area BFE. Later that day we would visit Desert Rocks, but now we were on our way to a new house under construction. With unobstructed views of the La Sal Range and Behind the Rocks, Jim told me that this was his final home design project. I was impressed with his talents.

 

Upon our return to the RV Park, I installed our fourth webcam at the property. We feature the three original webcams on the MoabLive.com Webcam Page and on the Campark website at MoabRV.com. The new webcam, I call “Check-in Cam”, as it points directly out the front window of the office. When guests pull in, you will see them and their rig, front and center.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
With new ownership, this mage no longer refreshes.

 

If anyone wants to say, “Hi” to the folks back home, go the RV Park, stand in front of the window and call your friends on your mobile telephone. Then you can mug for the camera. Do not forget that there are 300,000,000 Chinese smart phones online, so you will be mugging for many of them, as well. Bring signs… Have fun. It is free entertainment, courtesy of MoabLive.com and the Moab Rim RV Campark. Be sure to tell the folks in the office that Moab Jim sent you.

 

Author's Note - After the sale of the Moab Rim Campark several years ago, the new owners elected not to continue hosting live webcams from that location. This information is provided for historical purposes only. This website no longer has any affiliation with the Moab Rim Campark

Email James McGillis

 

By James McGillis at 04:52 PM | | Comments (0) | Link

Artist Costantino Proietto and Others Painted at The Capuchin Convent on The Amalfi Coast - 2011

 

Artist Costantino Proietto and Others Painted at The Capuchin Convent on The Amalfi Coast 

 

On July 4, 2011, I posted an article on this website regarding a relatively unknown twentieth century Italian modern impressionist painter. His name is Signore Costantino Proietto, but he signed his paintings “CProietto”. In our article, we mused about our C Proietto original oil painting and asked anyone else who owned one or had information on C. Proietto or his painting to please contact us and provide an image of his or her artwork.

 

Three days later, Marion Grayson of Belton, Texas sent us the image of the Amalfi Coast painting shown at the top of this article. American relatives of Marion Grayson lived in Italy in the mid-1950s and they purchased her painting while there. Please click on the image for a larger picture of the Marion Grayson painting. When compared to my CProietto original oil painting, the similarities are striking. Although some architectural may differ, both paintings feature a single potted plant beneath the pergolato, with a view to the sea. Each painting, however, shows a different perspective; mine includes a view to the Amalfi Coast, and Ms. Grayson’s looks out to sea. Both feature afternoon sun and clouds rising from the horizon, rather than floating above.

 

During my research, I discovered the name of the place from which Costantino Proietto painted the Amalfitan Coast. In Italian, it is the “Amalfi dal Convento dei Cappuccini”. In English, we call it The Capuchin Convent of Amalfi.  Although no evidence of the fifth century chapel originally built on that site exist today, the foundation of the original monastery dates to 1212 CE. For the following 650 years, various orders of the Catholic Church owned and used the property. In 1882, the interconnected buildings and grounds became the predecessor to the Convento di Amalfi Grand Hotel. In 1899, the property experienced a catastrophic landslide, destroying its original cave and some early buildings. Over the next century, reconstruction occurred in many phases, culminating in 2002. Today, the "hotel dei Cappuccini Amalfi" combines enticing luxuries, such as an infinity pool and al fresco dining on the terrace, yet the beauty and tranquility of the original site remain for posterity.

 

Beginning in the 1870s or 1880s, artists of note painted seascapes and landscapes, both from the terrace itself and from locations, below and around the property. Notable among them were Italian artists Giacinto Gigante (1806-1876), Carelli Consalvo (1818-1900) and Hermann David Salomon Corrodi1844-1905). Austrian artist Franz Richard Unterberger (1838-1902) and Danish artist Carl Frederik Aagard (1833-1895) also painted stirring scenes of the monastery and the Mediterranean Sea beyond. Italian photographer Carlo Brogi (1850-1925) captured scenes from the terrace, which appeared on postcards as early as 1904.

 

It was during the mid-twentieth Century that Costantino Proietto stood many times upon the well-worn stonework of the old terrace, painting that classic scene, always from a new perspective.  It is rare in our world to find a place that retains its classic charm over hundreds of years. Destruction and reconstruction in and around classic monuments of the past may leave the monuments themselves in place, but rarely do the surroundings retain their original character. Even since C Proietto’s time, the terrace of the Convento di Amalfi Grand Hotel has changed, yet its columns and pergola echo the 1880 or perhaps the 1580 feeling of that place. Even today, the contemporary coastal scene, oft painted by the masters of old, retains the look and feel of the original place.

 

During our research into original oil paintings by C Proietto, we located or received new and heretofore unpublicized scenes of the Amalfi Coast. One is from Marion Grayson, as mentioned above and another is from the Italian Wannenes Group, and its Art Auctions website. Each clearly shows the unique signature of my favorite Amalfi Coast artist, twentieth century Italian Modern Impressionist, Signore C. Proietto. Although his art becomes better known to the world each week, biographical information regarding CProietto is still scant. If any reader knows more about him, please contact me with the information. Once verified, I will be happy to provide attribution, as requested by the contributor.

 

When I was young, I remember seeing a realistic copy of the sculpture, Michelangelo’s David at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. As David spoke to me across the centuries, his magnificent grace and power struck me. Viewing that sculpture at age ten changed what I believed art could be. In that spirit, I am now writing a parallel art mystery story using my superhero comic characters, Moabbey, Coney, Kokopelli and Silver Girl. You will find them at my website, JimMcGillis.com. Join me there for the exciting story, and be sure to tell the kids.

Ciao

Email James McGillis

 
 

 

By James McGillis at 12:19 AM | Fine Art | Comments (1) | Link

Costantino Proietto - Twentieth Century Italian Modern Impressionist - 2011

 

 

Costantino Proietto - Twentieth Century Italian Modern Impressionist 

At Casa Carrie, we own a midcentury original oil painting of Italy's Amalfi Coast hanging in my office. Southeast of Napoli and due west of Sorrento, the Amalfi Coast is famous for the play of light between its Mediterranean sun and sea. In the afternoon, the interplay of direct and reflected sunlight makes the Amalfi Coast perfect for a juxtaposition of seascape and landscape.
 

As I looked around our home, I realized that we have three separate pictures of the Amalfi Coast. The one mentioned above is the masterpiece, with its muted gilt frame, deep textures and sublime light. Adjacent to it is a framed print of a similar scene, painted from a different vantage point. The third is a small, sunny oil painting with lots of color and sailboats heeling in an afternoon breeze.
 

With thousands of Amalfi Coast photographs available through Google Images, It was easy to determine that all three of our images are true to their location, including the headlands and coves that make up the Amalfi Coast. From different locations on the same hill, each artist captured a coastal settlement, clinging to a steep hillside in the middle ground. In each, far mountains come down to the sea, ending in a cliff or in a gentler slope, depending on the artist’s perspective.
 

Although each scene is one that I would gladly place myself within, the C Proietto masterpiece is my favorite. At almost thirty-two inches wide by twenty-three inches high, its foreground includes the terrace of a classical villa. On the right is a long bench, with alcoves receding into its mortared structure. Above the stone bench is the azure blue water of the Mediterranean Sea. Dominating the center of the picture, and receding to the left are three great columns, two of which feature slender grapevines. The vines ascend to an arbor, culminating in a leafy crown. Showing a slight nicotinic haze from many years of exposure to cigarette smoke, our masterpiece still shows us gentle gradations of color, from the ocean to the sky. I now turn my head and view a wonderful depiction of both home and coast.
 

For years, neither Carrie nor I could decipher the signature on our masterpiece. Painted across and into the rough texture of the painting, the artist's name looked more like machine characters at the bottom of a bank check. It seemed that the artist did not care if we could read his splotches of black paint. Or, because of his anticipated fame, he expected us to know who he was. Each night, late in his life, Pablo Picasso would sit at the same table in his favorite cantina. When tourists, who knew he might be there stopped in and asked for an autograph, he agreed to do so, but demanded $10,000 in cash for signatures often scrawled on the back of a menu or on his own bill for dinner. Soon tourist seeking an autograph from Picasso, brought sufficient cash with them to obtain their own original Picasso. Something tells me that most of those buyers were not disappointed with their bargain. Pocketing ten or twenty thousand in cash each night satisfied Papa, as well. Perhaps, CProietto expected to be known by his signature alone.
 

One recent morning, Carrie deciphered the signature on our painting. As I awoke that morning, she said to me, "It's, CProietto”, as if I knew what she was talking about. She had been up early, Googling his name and quickly reaching a dead-end at the pay-for-play art database websites. Apparently, they have not yet discovered that data wants to be free. Perhaps they should check with Google for a new business model. With our artist's name now known, I set out to discover (for free) more about this "Man of Amalfi", Signore C. Proietto.
 

According to Google, there are two matches for the Google search, "artist+CProietto". Carlo Giuseppe Proietto is a contemporary Italian pyrographer of note. The other Costantino Proietto was born in Italy in 1900. According to a terse biography accompanying a German eBay listing for one of his paintings, "He was born in Catania, Sicily, studied at the Florence Academy under Professor Fernando Cappuccio. and lived in Italy". He is listed in the auction data bank ‘ADEC artprice’ under ‘Proietto’.” There are no visual images of the artist that are available on the internet, nor do we know his date or place of death. Despite an well documented body of work, CProietto, is not, as of this writing, included in the Wikipedia ‘List of Italian Painters’. Although most fine art catalog websites are available by subscription only, FineArtInfo.com publicly lists three CProietto paintings sold at auction since 2005, plus one that was unsold as of their posting date. Their prices ranged from $100 to $487.
 

While researching images of the Amalfi Coast, I came across a commercially available poster showing the same terrace as our C Proietto original. The biography accompanying that framed print was as follows: “Danish artist Carl Frederik Aagaard (1833 – 1895) was one of the most influential landscape oil painters of Copenhagen’s Golden Age. Aagaard’s work was so revered, that he was asked to paint King Christian IV’s chapel. Initially a student of drawing at the Danish Royal Academy, he was taught by many of the country’s renowned artists, and was strongly influenced by landscape oil painter Peter Kristian Skoovgaard.”
 

Aagaard’s painting includes the same terrace as our masterpiece, but emphasizes a field of view to the left of C Proietto’s. Costantino Proietto was born in 1900, five years after Aagaard’s death, so their paintings of the Amalfi Coast might differ in age by up to one hundred years. When we merge the edge of Aagaard’s image with that of C Proietto, they blend harmoniously. With the addition of Aagaard's view to the pergola, on the left, two separate images morph together in one continuous scene. To support provenance of both his art and the place, Aagaard later painted a perspective back to the terrace, from the far end of the pergola. For the first time we see, from that perspective, the precipice that we only feel in C Proietto's seascape. According to Aagaard's depiction, access to the terrace and pergola requires a walk up a long and arduous path, all the way from sea level to the summit of this "Angel's Landing" location. When I saw Aagaard's precipice for the first time, I felt a touch of vertigo; as if I had just been there.  The well-defined edge of the terrace and the vastness of the Mediterranean Sea heighten the difference in elevation between the terrace and the sea. C Proietto's sublime terrace scene features a landscape view, while Aagaard features landscape view towards his vanishing point.
 

When a master of the nineteenth century and a master of the twentieth century paint the same scene, from the same terrace, it raises as many questions as it answers. Together they answer the question, “Is this place real?” Aagaard's depiction of the place hints, but does not show that the classical villa exists. Left unanswered are questions about C Proietto’s knowledge of Frederik Aagaard and his earlier painting of the same scene. Since each painter includes the columns supporting an arbor above, we know that it is a central feature of the terrace. If one were to review Carl Frederik Aagaard's many variations on the one depicted here, C Proietto's scene varies in ways one would expect over a century of use. C Proietto includes a low fence between the columns. Did someone get too close and step off into the abyss, thus precipitation additional safety measures?. Since the terrace existed for parts of the past two centuries, might it still stand on that rocky precipice today? Before Aagaard or after Proietto, how many others have hiked that switchback path to sublime light and classical delight?
 

The internet image of Aagaard’s Amalfi Coast painting is too small for us to discern more than its overall artistry. On the far left of Aagaard's Amalfi Coast painting, his doorway to infinity tells us that he understood the concept of a vanishing point. Leaving these side mysteries for another day, I did not conduct further research into Aagaard’s other works or the prices that they fetch at auction. Costantino Proietto, on the other hand, we know as a twentieth century artist who combined both modern and impressionistic elements in his Italian seascapes and other water-related scenes.
 

Costantino Proietto created lasting art that graces our home and perhaps many others around the world. The low auction prices that C Proietto oil paintings now command reflect his relatively unknown status, rather than the quality of his work. In my opinion, if he were better known, his paintings would be more highly prized than the $100 - $500 indicated by recent auction prices . Although we do not yet know his date of death, nor do we have a picture of him, we hope that this article will stimulate interest in both the artist and his works. Someone may read this article, walk into his or her study as I did, only to discover that their seascape is a C Proietto original, or maybe a Carl Frederik Aagaard original.
 

In order for the world to appreciate Costantino Proietto as a great Modern Impressionist, we need more information about his art and his life. If any reader has additional images or biographical information to share, we would be happy to post it here. If you have knowledge that will help solve an ongoing twentieth century art mystery, please leave a comment at the bottom of this article or send your images via email. All information posted will include proper attribution, in accordance with the provider’s wishes.
 

Ciao

Email James McGillis

 
 

By James McGillis at 01:01 AM | Fine Art | Comments (6) | Link

The I-405 Mulholland Drive Bridge Comes Down in Pieces - 2011

The I-405 Mulholland Drive Bridge Comes Down in Pieces

In 1962, my father and I drove thirty-miles from Burbank to Santa Monica, California. New that year and new to us was a 4.1-mile stretch of Interstate I-405. In true California fashion, the new freeway went straight up and over Sepulveda Pass. Its predecessor, Old Sepulveda Blvd. wound its way up and over a longer, more arduous route.

 

The new freeway featured four lanes in each direction, so traffic flowed with ease. A chain-link safety fence separated the northbound and southbound lanes. My father’s car was a 1962 Impala SS, with a 327 V-8 engine and a four-barrel carburetor. Gasoline was less than fifty cents per gallon and the speed limit was sixty-five miles per hour, which we easily reached.

 

At the top of the pass, the roadway curved gently to the right and then traveled under a marvel of a concrete bridge, spanning the freeway without any center support. Unlike any previous span in the Los Angeles area, the new Mulholland Drive Bridge was tall, graceful and elegant in its proportions. Despite its size and novel construction methods, the price tag for the bridge was only $1.8 million.

 

By 1964, my friends and I used “the i405” as our quick conduit to the beach in Santa Monica. On a good day, we could travel the thirty miles in less than an hour. Even though the freeway was less than three years old, parts of the concrete roadbed had started to shift and sag. This made the downhill run from the top of Sepulveda Pass to Sunset Blvd. a white-knuckle ride in my friend Bill’s 1957 Chevy Belair. As the road heaved and turned, we passengers held our breath at the approach to each turn. Although the classic Chevy looked cool, handling on a rough and curvy road was not its forte. As Bill clutched the wheel, The Rolling Stones', “Satisfaction” blared out of the car radio.

 

In 1962, California's population was seventeen million. According to the 2010 census, the population of California is more than twice that, now standing above thirty-seven million. Repaved and widened several times, the I-405 through Sepulveda Pass simply cannot handle twice as many cars as its designers intended. What is the latest solution? Widen it again, of course.

 

In order to squeeze a carpool lane into the northbound direction, the elegant and timeless Mulholland Drive Bridge will come down in halves, beginning mid-July 2011. If all goes as planned, our former “bridge to the future” will disappear by half over a three-day weekend. During the planned 53-hour closure, the southern half will come down in a cloud of construction dust and debris. Despite adequate warning to stay away from the planned freeway closure, you can bet that many in Los Angeles will not get the message. Oblivious or curious, they will head for the beach or the Valley that weekend. After all, freeway traffic jams, called sig-alerts in LA, are a time-honored tradition.

 

On that day in 1962, my father looked up at the bridge as we approached and asked, “Do you know how they built that?” In my awe of the whole scene, I said, “I have no idea. How did they do it?” “I read about it in California Highways," he said. "It's a free magazine, telling us all about our new freeways and how they build them. According to the magazine", he said, “they dug six holes almost one hundred feet deep into the mountain. Then they built the six support columns in those deep holes. Next, they built the bridge deck, which hovered just above old ground level. Although the support columns are solid, reinforced concrete, much of the horizontal structure is hollow. Rather than spanning that wide gulf with steel girders, the bridge relies on prestressed, reinforced concrete tubes to carry the load. After every aspect of the bridge was completed, workers with heavy equipment dug out all the earth beneath the bridge, slowly revealing its final height. It is towering above right now", he said as we passed beneath the shadow of the bridge.

 

Last winter I shot a few pictures of the Mulholland Drive Bridge, while traveling northbound in the afternoon rain. This week, I traveled in each direction over Sepulveda Pass and shot a few more images for posterity. After mid-July 2011, one half of this iconic bridge will be missing from the Los Angeles skyline. Until its two-phase bridge replacement reappears in several years, the I-405 through Sepulveda Pass will remain a work in progress, much as it has for the past fifty years.

 

In 1966, loss of a Rose Bowl berth to USC precipitated the "UCLA Rampage", which led to the first closing of the San Diego Freeway (I-405 Northbound).

 

Email James McGillis

 

By James McGillis at 06:46 PM | Personal Articles | Comments (0) | Link 

Moab UMTRA Plays Russian Roulette With Nuclear Waste - 2011

 

 

Moab UMTRA Plays Russian Roulette With Nuclear Waste 

Late May 2011 found me in Moab, Utah once again. While there, one of my projects was to monitor potential flooding along the Colorado River. Previous research and scientific findings indicate that a Colorado River flood at Moab is more likely now than in any recent time.

 

As temperatures swing, drought prevails and dust storms roam the Four Corners, a heavy spring snowpack, and a quick thaw could create catastrophic flooding at Moab. To be sure, most of the town lies on higher ground, well above the paleo-floodplain. Other than a few commercial buildings and several campgrounds, the greatest risk is flooding at the Moab Pile.

 

During the Cold War years, uranium mines near Moab fed radioactive ore to the Atlas Uranium Mill. Using large quantities of highly corrosive acid, the mill concentrated the ore and then shipped it to the federal government, which had a monopoly on all things radioactive. Since all Americans hypothetically benefited from the nuclear deterrent known as “assured mutual destruction”, so too should we all pay to cleanup the mess abandoned by the nuclear industry.

 

Remnants of the Atlas Uranium Mill and a colossal mountain of radioactive tailings together make up the Moab Pile. Since 2009, excavators have filled and sealed steel containers with vast amounts of the pile’s radioactive earth. From Moab to Crescent Junction, the material takes a free ride via the Union Pacific Railroad's "Train of Pain". Actually, the ride is not free. Through our federal tax dollars, all U.S. Persons pay for its removal.

 

By late May 2011, the Colorado River approached flood-stage in Grand Junction, Colorado. As the flood surged downstream, I wanted to see if the Moab Pile was as vulnerable as paleo-flood surveys indicated. Over a two-day period, I visited several sites on each side of the river and also stood above the flow on the bicycle bridge. Viewed from any angle, water reached higher on the riverbanks than I had ever seen. According to some reports, flow rates have not been this high since 1983, when Lake Powell filled to capacity and forced operators to open the Glen Canyon Dam spill gates for the first time.

 

From the bicycle bridge, looking downstream, the U.S. 191 Highway Bridge appeared to skim low over the water. With its gracefully arched concrete supports, there was still some headroom for the water to flow. Just south of the highway bridge, the Canyonlands by Night buildings looked vulnerable to me. The riverbanks there were high enough to allay imminent fears, but their lack of reinforcement made for inadequate protection in the event of a larger flow. In any event, I would not want to own their flood insurance company.

 

I stopped at Canyonlands by Night to see if they needed a live webcam. A representative said, “No, we already have one”. To myself, I thought, “Maybe you do, but it is not easy to find on the internet”. There was an excursion boat tethered to the floating dock, but otherwise the grounds appeared deserted. Standing close to the river, I could picture two alternate scenarios. In the local version, the flood subsided and life in Moab went on as usual. In the Hollywood version, the snowpack in the high country melted in days, not months. The silent power of the Colorado River flood then enveloped the Canyonlands by Night property and swept it away.

 

Continuing my river tour, I turned off U.S. 191 at Utah State Route 279, better known as the Potash Road. After skirting the now diminished Moab Pile, I headed downstream. Despite nearly a decade of attempted extermination using the Tamarisk Beetle, large, half-dead tamarisk shielded every river view. Soon, I turned around and drove back to where I could see the Moab Pile, the Colorado River and the Scott Matheson Wetlands, all in one panorama. From a distance of about one half mile, the churning brown, river appeared to lap at the base of the Moab Pile. The following day, I drove downriver on the opposite bank, along the Kane Creek Road. With the Matheson Wetlands then to my right, the Moab Pile stood out on the horizon, along the far riverbank. Although the river was turgid and brown, its wide channel in that area kept the river in check.

 

Writing now from California in late June 2011, I must rely on news reports and internet searches to keep up with the story. While Googling variations of, “Colorado River Flood Moab 2011”, I found a number of articles that touched upon the subject. None, however, told what I considered to be a complete story. As I have pieced it together, here is what transpired since I left Moab in early June. 

 

Both the Green River and the Colorado River continued to rise until at least mid-June. Grand Junction, Colorado experienced significant flooding and bank-erosion, although the river made a long, slow peak there. Downstream, near Moab, the Red Cliffs Lodge experienced bank erosion and flooding of temporary structures in what they call their “gravel area”. According to on-scene reports, the river never approached the hotel or its guest rooms. The Colorado River bicycle and highway bridges at Moab stood firmly above the river. Canyonlands by Night remained dry, if not high above the river crest. The Moab Pile still sits sedately in its old place, although water backed-up into adjacent drainage channels.

 

In the spring of 2011, what saved the Moab Pile? The answer may lie in the Matheson Wetlands, which were a softer target than the Moab Pile. Wildfires swept hundreds of acres near the river in 2009, with another sixty acres burned in June 2011. By late June, the river flooded the Matheson Wetlands, submerging much of the recent burn area. Root structures weakened in the 2009 fire now let go altogether. Without further human intervention, the latest fire became the lucky break that we needed. If two separate fires caused by human carelessness had not weakened the plant structures along the river, the wetlands might have held their banks. As it was, they absorbed the flood over a wide flood plain. If they had not accepted the flood as they did, a rampaging Colorado River might have projected its hydraulic power toward the reeking hulk of the Moab Pile.

 

In order to protect the Moab Pile, UMTRA crews have removed some material from its leading edge. UMTRA has constructed several small protective berms, as well. However, the paleo-history of floods along the Colorado River at Moab indicates that the Moab Pile remains vulnerable to the "three hundred year flood", if it should happen during the next decade. During that decade of tailings removal, there is a one-in-thirty chance that a flood of up to ten times the current 32,000 cfs flow rate will hit Moab. Picture a wall of water forty or fifty feet higher than the new highway bridge as it sweeps out of the Colorado Riverway Canyon, and then on towards the Moab Pile.

 

Had the Upper Colorado Basin snowpack been deeper last winter or had it melted faster, the 2011 story might have ended quite differently. We who live downstream and depend on the Colorado River for our water supply were lucky this time. Just as easily, it could have gone the other way. In a Fukushima-like, scenario, some or all of the Moab Pile could now lie as radioactive mud on the bottom of Lake Powell. If a mega flood were to fill Lake Powell, operators at Glen Canyon Dam would open the flood gates and sweep that cloud of radioactive mud on towards Lake Meade. Such an event would likely rank as the number one human caused disaster in all of recorded history. For lack of uncontaminated water, the Desert Southwest would face a human out-migration fifteen to thirty times greater than what occurred during the disappearance of the Anasazi.

 

Recent news reports stated that by 2019, the Moab Pile could be moved. The engineers and workers at the Moab UMTRA project are so efficient that they haul more radioactive-waste more quickly than ever before. among other things, they have learned to fill huge rectangular containers almost to the brim. Even though an initial infusion of federal stimulus money is now gone, the original twenty-year plan could culminate in less than fifteen years. Despite the lucrative contracts to remove it, no one wants to hang around a pile of radioactive waste any longer than necessary.

 

The “speed is of the essence” mentality at Moab UMTRA increases our collective risk. The highest priority should be to protect the pile from flood damage and dispersal. Recent flood mitigation at the site proved sufficient for this year's 30-year flood. Once sufficient flood mitigation is in place to protect against the 300-year flood, removal could again become the top priority. Otherwise, the unprotected status of the Moab Pile will require that we, in the Southwestern United States dodge the “nuclear bullet” each spring until at least 2019.

 

Check back here in 2020 to see if disaster struck. If we are writing our articles from upstream of the current Moab Pile, you will know that current plans did not go well. If we are then writing from downstream in sunny Southern California, you will know that we all won the game of “Nuclear Waste Roulette” now playing out along the Colorado River at Moab.

Email James McGillis

 

By James McGillis at 06:48 PM | | Comments (0) | Link

Is it the Cozy Cone Motel or the Wigwam Motel? To Find Out, Watch the Movie Cars - 2011

 

Is it the Cozy Cone Motel or the Wigwam Motel? To Find Out, Watch the Movie Cars

Anyone who has seen the Pixar movie, “Cars” will recall the Cozy Cone Motel. As with much of that animated movie, a real motel looks surprisingly like the place that McQueen the race car spent the night. At the Cozy Cone Motel, the individual rooms resembled giant orange traffic cones. At Wigwam Village, also known as the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, Arizona, the individual rooms resemble giant Indian teepees.

 

With a 2009 population of just over 5,000, the City of Holbrook grew by over three percent in the past decade. Among its claims to fame are the only regulation golf course along Interstate I-40 between Flagstaff, Arizona and Gallup, New Mexico. A stretch of Old Route 66 makes up its business district, while I-40 skirts the town to the north.

 

I found Holbrook a pleasant place to spend a Saturday afternoon. After shopping for groceries and talking to locals at the Safeway, I drove across the street to check out the Wigwam Motel. Not wanting to intrude on their business, I approached the old main office, only to find that it was deserted. While researching the place, I discovered that most days, the motel opens for business around 4:00 PM.

 

Even when unoccupied by physical human beings, the place feels like the spirits of ancient travelers still inhabit the grounds. In front of each whitewashed teepee is a 1950’s vintage automobile. Did someone really arrive the previous night in that ’55 Buick Century? Are they inside their teepee, planning to spend another night? As the afternoon wore on, no one entered or exited their teepee to tell me their story, so I made up my own.

 

Years ago, I found a traffic cone in Henderson Nevada. Originally stenciled with the words “SW Gas”, it stood abandoned in a strip mall parking lot. Thinking that I might later need a traffic cone to protect my travel trailer, I named him “Coney” and he has traveled with me ever since.

 

Those who have studied the Pre-Puebloan Indians of the Four Corners region know about the mythical flute player we call Kokopelli. The Ancients chipped images of Kokopelli on to stone canyon walls throughout the region. Some hypothesize that Kokopelli represented the real flute-playing minstrels who wandered from one ancient camp to another. The playing of his flute upon approach to an unknown encampment signaled that he was peaceful and perhaps bore news from elsewhere along the trail.

 

Soon after Coney joined me in my travels, I received a stuffed Kokopelli doll as a gift. Now, whenever I travel in the High Southwest, a smaller version of Coney and my stuffed Kokopelli travel with me in the cab of my truck. When traveling alone for days on end, it is tempting to start up conversations with myself, but I prefer to talk with Coney and Kokopelli. Although they rarely answer my questions, when they do, their advice varies from sage to hilarious.

 

As we approached the Wigwam Motel, they both wanted to get out of the truck and stretch their legs. Well, actually, only Kokopelli has legs, but Coney stood up for himself and demanded time in the fresh air, as well. As we toured the ersatz Indian Village, they wanted to pose with all of the rolling stock that lay around the yard.

 

“Hey, that tow truck looks like Mater from the movie, Cars”, Coney said. Indeed, I could see the resemblance. Soon, Kokopelli was leaning back against Coney and pretending to drive an old orange Ford V8 dump truck. After posing with several of the vehicles, Coney and Kokopelli were ready to move on. Just then, however, a Santa Fe Railroad locomotive sped along the tracks behind the motel.

 

The sun was low in the afternoon sky as we contemplated the loop road at Petrified Forest National Park. After that, we would stop for fuel in Gallup New Mexico. Our final destination that night was Chaco Canyon, New Mexico. “Come on, guys. Let’s go”, I said as we all jumped into the truck. Off we went down West Hopi Drive, also known in the legends of travel as Old-66.

Email James McGillis

 

 

By James McGillis at 05:38 PM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link