An Evening in Moab with Author, Adventurer, Naturalist and Poet, Craig Childs - 2012

 

An Evening in Moab with Author, Adventurer, Naturalist and Poet, Craig Childs

Each year since 2005, I have visited Moab Utah in the fall. For my taste, the summers in Moab are too hot and the winters too cold. In the spring, the wind blows and the dust kicks up. In October 2006, I experienced almost fifteen inches of rain, but this fall the weather was as dry as a bone.

In October 2007, I was in Moab for a week and wanted to learn more about the town and its culture. Checking the events calendar, I saw that Craig Childs was in town, introducing his then new book, “House of Rain”. Until then, my only connection to Craig Childs was hearing him speak on the NPR program, Morning Edition. Not having read any of his books, I decided to go and hear him speak.

That evening, I arrived early at the Moab Information Center. With an auditorium that holds no more than seventy-five people, I was happy to sit in the front row. In the left-front corner of the room stood a stocky man dressed in clothing from the trail. As the attendees filed in and took their places on chairs or the floor, the man softly played a wooden flute. Only when he moved to the podium did I discover Craig Childs was the flautist we had just heard. Craig’s lyrical flute had created a mood for the slideshow and discussion to follow.

Demonstrating how important the book, “House of Rain” was to the career of Craig Childs, his personal website still goes by that name. Never using the phrase, “Great Disappearance” in that seminal book, his subject was the displacement Native American cultures from the Colorado Plateau around 1200 CE.

With painstaking academic research and fieldwork, alone or with paleo-scientists, Craig charted a course of migration that defined the culmination of the pre-Puebloan era. With Craig’s written guidance, I later visited and wrote about many of the places mentioned in that book. From Homolovi to Hovenweep and Mesa Verde beyond, Craig painted word-pictures of each sacred place.

In October 2008, I had the privilege of attending Confluence: A Celebration of Reading and Writing in Moab. Among the many guest authors, Amy Irvine, Jack Loeffler and Craig Childs each taught classroom and field seminars. The class was limited to forty budding authors, each paying $450 for the honor of close work with three authors. For his part, Craig Childs took our group a few miles north of Moab to a place called Seven Mile Canyon. There, among petroglyphs and sacred sandstone grottos, Craig encouraged each of us to feel the canyon sands barefoot before writing that day.

In October 2012, Craig Child’s latest book, Apocalyptic Planet: Field Guide to the Everending Earth arrived at Back of Beyond Bookstore in Moab. With a crowd of about 250 at Moab’s Starr Hall that opening night, Craig Childs proceeded to electrify the audience with stories of catastrophe and redemption. From a campsite on the rapidly melting Greenland Ice Sheet to the still warm lava flows of Mauna Loa Volcano in Hawaii, Craig elucidated the constancy of violent change occurring all over the Earth.

Not wanting to use an electronic flash that night, I tried to photograph Craig Childs in a still moment. Gesturing to his own image on the screen behind him, I watched as Craig’s animated motions transported him into his own photography. Craig on the stage merged into Craig, sitting on the front porch of the doomed Greenland camp. Later, as he swept his arm toward a small patch of island greenery surrounded by an active lava flow, Craig Childs could have been Moses, pinpointing the place where he had found the stone tablets.

Although I had videotaped parts of the presentation, I later erased all of my video from that evening. Electronic media cannot do justice to the poetry of Craig's words and voice. Standing barefoot on stage that night, reading excerpts from his new book, I saw and heard the essence of author and naturalist Craig Childs.

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By James McGillis at 03:45 PM | Current Events | Comments (0) | Link

An Energy Bridge of Water Links Mammoth Lakes to Los Angeles, California - 2012

 

An Energy Bridge of Water Links Mammoth Lakes to Los Angeles, California

In the fall of 2012, El Niño and La Niña global weather systems battled to a draw. Now it is anybody’s guess if this will be a big snow season in California’s Sierra Nevada. On Monday October 22, a friend in Mammoth sent pictures of the season’s first snowfall at Mammoth Lakes. After an extreme lack of snow at Mammoth Mountain Ski Area last winter, locals like Phil are hoping that snowstorms will visit again soon.

In August 2012, I visited Mammoth Lakes for the first time since the 1990s. I was surprised to see how little the core of the town had changed. Still, rampant development of the sub-alpine meadows around the edge of town looked unsustainable to me. In 2012, the town went bankrupt. At the same time, the Los Angeles Department of Water & Power (LADWP) made plans to exert its Mammoth Creek water rights. As has happened several times before, Mammoth headed deeper into an economic recession.

During the winter of 2011-2012, Mammoth Lakes experienced the economic ripple effect of ski area layoffs. With the semi-permanent closure of June Mountain Ski Resort in 2012, it will take more than one great snow season for Mono County and its economy to rebound. Still, as the town of Mammoth Lakes goes, so goes Los Angeles. As a persistent western drought continues, few in Los Angeles stop to think how much of their water originates in Mono County.

Collectively, we spent the past fifty years moving Los Angeles to Mammoth Mountain. Now, over-development and under-supply threaten water sources for both city and town. Perhaps a good 2012 – 2013 snow season will allow us to ignore both the economic and environmental realities for yet another year. Go Sierra snow!

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By James McGillis at 03:04 PM | Environment | Comments (0) | Link

Mesquite, Nevada - Doomed to Live Without its History - 2012

 

Mesquite, Nevada - Doomed to Live Without its History

For the past five years, my tradition has been to take both a spring and a fall trip to Moab, Utah and the Four Corner States. In 2007 and 2008, I would depart Los Angeles, travel to Phoenix, Arizona and then north to Moab. Having lived in Arizona earlier on, I liked to visit the detached suburb of Los Angeles that Phoenix had become.

In 2009, anti-immigrant rhetoric in Arizona reached a fever pitch. In April 2010, Governor Jan Brewer signed the statute known as Arizona AB 1070 into law. Although she saw an anti-immigrant bill as her ticket to higher office, I saw it as a poke in the eye of egalitarianism. Henceforth, I avoided Phoenix and all of Arizona whenever possible. With both the Grand Canyon and Old Route 66 running through the state, avoiding Arizona completely can be challenging.

After feeling repelled by Arizona politics, I needed a new way to get from Los Angeles to Moab. My new route was to be the Old Spanish Trail, now designated Interstate I-15 North and I-70 East. Although I-15 transits the northwest corner of Arizona, it does so through the Virgin River Gorge. In the gorge, there is no place to stop or spend money. Southwest of the Virgin River Gorge, and half way from Los Angeles to Moab lies Mesquite, Nevada. Each year since 2009, I have stopped overnight in Mesquite, allowing time to absorb some local culture.

On my first stop at Mesquite, I found a quaint collection of old motels and trailer courts. On West Mesquite Blvd., antique and hand-painted signs dominated the old commercial district. Although new development sprang up prior to the economic collapse of 2008, quaint reminders of Mesquite as a farming community and a later as a highway rest stop were evident.

Although permanently closed, Harley’s Garage featured a hand-painted “Ford Parts” logo sign atop its tower. Words scrawled on a front window celebrated Harley’s Garage for its fifty years as a mainstay of business in Mesquite. Likewise, the contemporary Ranch Market stood closed and empty. The market’s predecessor, a humble pole barn, stood tattered by a century of weather at the back of the same lot.

On my most recent visit, I caught sight of an old building on North Sandhill Blvd. Looking as if it had begun life as a house; it now stood stripped bare of its later business facade. With a new stucco exterior, it could have been a quaint restaurant or coffee stop. Instead, it featured “Keep Out” signs and other indications of its upcoming demolition. By the time of this writing, I assume that Mesquite has removed yet another clue to the town’s history.

The foolishness of systematically destroying all of the historical architecture and signage in Mesquite is obvious. To see a graphic example of why, look no further than Las Vegas, ninety miles south on I-15. Gambling-induced development skyrocketed there in the 1950’s. The result was an eclectic collection of iconic and nostalgic architecture. Because of its long-term popularity, old Las Vegas earned a place in the hearts of many visitors. What else explains the popularity of the old “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign that has stood at the south end of The Strip since 1959?

In recent years, a new class of casino and hotel development has prevailed In Las Vegas. With no room for expansion, developers imploded and replaced Desert Inn, The Dunes, El Rancho, The Sands and other hotel/casinos too numerous to mention. Everything in Las Vegas is bigger now, but it is a lot less fun. This recent “bigger is better” format wiped nostalgic old Las Vegas off the strip and into the dustbin of history.

I remember staying in a suite at the Desert Inn in the late 1980s. Just a few yards from the Strip, my suite overlooked a tranquil, green golf course. Maybe if I were a high roller I would care that Steve Wynn personally specified the design and materials of every mattress at his Wynn and Encore hotels. Just give me a bed on the Strip with a Magic Fingers massager under the mattress, and enough quarters to make me want to unplug it and I will be happy.

Out with the new and in with the old. Good luck to Mesquite, Nevada on its historical eradication campaign. For the sake of all who care, I hope the town runs out of redevelopment funds before it runs out of history.

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By James McGillis at 11:39 AM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link

Hovenweep Road Disappears & Reappears Near Hovenweep National Monument - 2012

 

Hovenweep Road Disappears & Reappears Near Hovenweep National Monument

In late April 2012, I departed Moab, Utah, heading toward Hovenweep National Monument, 120 miles southeast. My first 89 miles were on U.S. Highway 191, transiting through Monticello and Blanding, Utah. Fifteen miles south of Blanding, my Magellan GPS directed me to turn east on Utah State Route 262.

Although Magellan was on course, I was not. Blanding rests at 6000 feet in elevation. As you descent into the desert, each hill begins to look like the last one. Near the bottom of the third long hill, I approached the UT-262 East the turn-off. Making that turn with my travel trailer in tow required unusual discretion. Carrying a speed of 55 MPH over the top of the hill meant that I was doing 65 MPH near the bottom, and all without touching the throttle. I applied the brakes and downshifted out of overdrive. Friction creates heat. With my truck and trailer brakes engaged, I hoped that the brakes on my rig would not fade.

With over five tons of metal accelerating downhill, I downshifted into third gear and let the engine roar. While applying my brakes, I dropped the shifter into Second and watched the engine rev up to 4200 RPM. Having had the good sense to preset my trailer brakes for highway speeds, I felt them work in unison with the big disk brakes on my 2006 Nissan Titan. My rolling rocket ship responded in kind, slowing to about 45 MPH.

The only problem was that I needed to be below 25 MPH in order to make the turn. At that point, it was “do or die”, so I applied the brakes even harder and hoped for the best. My “bail out” was to release the brakes and roll on past the intersection, but no one wants to hear Magellan say, “When possible, make a legal U-turn”. As I safely made the turn, the abundant skid marks and stray gravel on the road spoke to me. They said, “Jim, your successful outcome here and now is no cause for celebration”.

When I found myself facing east on UT-262, I took a deep breath and then looked for a place to pull over. This was at least the third time I had traveled from Moab to Hovenweep National Monument. Unbelievably, this was my best job yet negotiating that crucial left turn. Please remember that your perception of time, distance and vertical motion are different in the High Southwest. As Jim Morrison so aptly sang, “Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel”. Watch closely for the highway signs and keep your downhill speed below the posted speed limit. Otherwise, you too might miss your turn toward Hovenweep.

Soon, Utah Hwy. 262 began to show its age. Almost from the start, there were almost no shoulders on the sides of the road. For the first nine miles, the road was narrow, harsh and unforgiving. At that point, Highway UT-262 turned to the south, leaving me on old Hovenweep Road, which is also designated Indian Route 5099. Although my Magellan GPS had performed flawlessly until that point, its digital mainspring was about to uncoil.

Although Hovenweep National Monument is remote from any settlement larger than a trading post, it is a targeted destination for many motorists. With her database in full failure mode, Magellan’s siren-sweet voice tried to lead me astray. “Turn left at the next opportunity”, she declared. Such tactics may have lured Ulysses onto an ancient, rocky coastline, but not me. Her voice intended to deceive me. “Ha!” I said, “This is like déjà vu all over again”. This was my third trip to Hovenweep along this road. Had I learned anything?

Slowly, my thoughts came back to me. Long ago, in Navajo land I had learned to disbelieve Magellan’s driving directions. Just try to drive from Gallup, New Mexico to Chaco Canyon with only Magellan as your guide. Twice in the past, Magellan had failed me there. Smugly, I concluded that no one at Magellan or its database creators had ever traveled these roads. If they had, they would not suggest a shortcut that starts at the washout of Montezuma Creek and then winds for miles over rough terrain.

The first algorithmic rule for GPS databases should be, “If there is an alternative route over paved-roads, suggest it.” In order to do that, one must know firsthand if a road exists. If so, is paved or gravel? Only by placing the mapmakers’ eyes in the real world will such things ever change. Meanwhile, the Spirit of the Ancients sits around a celestial campfire, looking down at us and having a good laugh. Come on, mapmakers; none ever died wishing that they had spent more time in the office.

After Magellan suggested a hard left turn up a steep and curving gravel road, I stopped to consult my trusty DeLorme Utah Atlas & Gazetteer. Later, while looking at Google Maps, I could see why Magellan got it wrong. From Hatch Trading Post to Hovenweep on paved roads requires a roundabout tour to the south, via Reservation Road 2416 and San Juan County Road 413. Just south of Hatch Trading Post, that paved route crosses Montezuma Creek on a contemporary highway bridge. Just south of that bridge is where Magellan suggested a make a hard left turn.

Had I taken that route, it would have soon connected me with a graveled extension of “Hovenweep Road”, also called San Juan County Road 212. If one follows that gravel road, it is indeed the original and shorter route to Hovenweep National Monument. With its “Hovenweep Road” moniker, that gravel route is only ten miles long, but takes thirty-eight minutes. The paved route to the south is longer, but takes only twenty-nine minutes.

If you are familiar with Google Street View, you know that Google camera cars have traversed almost every paved road in America. Magellan, for its part, has outsourced its database to either the incompetent or the knowledgeable. The Navajo Nation is the largest Native American tribe in the U.S. Although their reservation abuts the Four Corners on three sides, Magellan treats it like a no-man’s land. Rich with cultural heritage, it behooves Magellan to provide accurate directions throughout the region. Magellan’s users need to know that they can follow paved roads to such treasures as Hovenweep National Monument.

Once I got past the Magellan database errors, I had a pleasant ride to Hovenweep. To the sides of the road I saw occasional Navajo dwellings. Whether any one of them was occupied or abandoned, I could not say. Were these empty houses awaiting their owner’s return or were they the abandoned relics of a time before the Dine’ (Navajo) moved to the cities. Other major features on the land consisted of natural gas wells and occasional water wells. The gas wells utilized propane fuel to spin their flywheels, while the water wells featured Aermotor windmill pumps. Although windmills usually indicate that cattle will be grazing nearby, the only wildlife in view that day consisted of wild horses.

Even in April, the desert was extremely dry. Little water ran in the major watercourses and there were no waterholes visible on the mesa. For the wild horses, finding sufficient forage and water defines their constant battle for life over death. Few of the horses looked well fed or well watered. In order to conserve energy or to beg a meal, many untamed horses stay close to the road. Although they were clearly wild, most of the horses barely moved when I stopped to photograph them.

One exception that day was a palomino stallion that I startled as he crossed the landscape. In order to photograph the horse, I had to make a U-turn and then stop on the gravel apron of a desolate crossroad. With all of the noise and commotion that I had caused, the palomino caught wind of me. As he galloped across an arroyo, I had time to capture only one image of the horse. As I later zoomed in on that image, I realized that his ribs were showing, indicating severe environmental stress. If I could rewind and redo my actions that day, I would not have pursued and further stressed that beautiful animal with my vehicle or on foot.

As I approached Little Ruin Canyon at Hovenweep National Monument, the grand Sleeping Ute Mountain appeared to the east. Although many of the place names throughout the High Southwest are fanciful in their origins, Sleeping Ute Mountain lives up to its name. With his head in the north and his feet in the south, the ancient spirit of the mountain appears to be at rest. As I approached the campground at Hovenweep National Monument near sundown, I held my breath, hoping to find an open campsite large enough to accommodate my rig.

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By James McGillis at 06:52 PM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link

A Busy Afternoon at Canyonlands Field - Moab, Utah - 2012

 

A Busy Afternoon at Canyonlands Field - Moab, Utah

In April 2012, I visited Canyonlands Field, near Moab, Utah. It was a busy day at the airport, with takeoffs and landings going on throughout the afternoon. Serving both general and commercial aviation at the same field sets the Moab airport apart from most regional airports. The juxtaposition of commercial and private takeoffs and landings, all without tower support means that everyone involved needs to stay alert and responsible for their actions.

In this video, I watch as the Great Lakes Airlines Beech 1900 departs Moab. Only minutes later, a private pilot lands his high performance TBM850 turboprop on the same runway. As with any uncontrolled airfield, no one takes off or lands until radio communications have confirmed the location of any airplanes in the area. Although this video looks like a narrow escape, it is more like an aerial ballet, choreographed by the pilots themselves.

Next time you are in Moab, Utah, be sure to dedicate a few hours to the action at Canyonlands Field. The best time is often on a Saturday afternoon. Between the skydivers coming down and the busy airfield, you will not regret your visit.

 

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By James McGillis at 11:18 PM | | Comments (1) | Link

When is a Lake Not a Lake? When it is Ken's Lake, Moab, Utah - 2012

 

When is a Lake Not a Lake? When it is Ken's Lake, Moab, Utah

In 2012, a continuing drought on the Colorado Plateau created a meager spring snowpack in the Sierra La Sal. When I visited Ken’s Lake, near Moab, Utah in April 2012, I was encouraged by the volume of water that I saw behind the dam. Although I did not know it at the time, there was more water present than in any April for the past five years. As a casual observer, I saw what looked like a good water year for both irrigation and water sports on the lake.

In August 2012, the Grand Water and Sewer Service Agency (GWSSA) issued its summer status report on Ken’s Lake. According to the document, the Ken’s Lake water level has dropped from April’s 101% of average to a mid-August thirty-five percent of average. Using the first two charts in the document, I was able to determine that Ken’s Lake currently held 1000 acre/feet less water than it did in a normal year.

Next, I looked down at the five-year storage chart. Again, the results were alarming. With just over 400 acre/feet of water currently impounded, Ken’s Lake was heading to its lowest August levels in the past five years. With that trend, it was obvious that Ken’s Lake was destined to become Ken’s Lake Puddle again this year.

Some will say, “So what? It is a human made water storage reservoir. If all of the water gets used up every year, then it is serving its purpose”. Although that may be true, Ken’s Lake is also the largest recreational lake in the Moab area. When the reservoir goes dry, there is nothing of consequence to attract campers, hikers or wildlife. The lake is also a bellwether for drought conditions throughout the Colorado Plateau. If the towering La Sal Range gets little snow and has a fast spring runoff, few other places will fare much better. The regional drought seems likely to expand and become more prevalent in the Four Corners region.

It behooves the stakeholders and managers of Ken’s Lake to act now and prevent it from becoming a permanent eyesore. The easiest way to save the lake is to stop allocating water for alfalfa farming and other water-intensive crops. If a farmer is actually growing fodder for his or her own livestock, the GWSSA could make an exception. Instead of alfalfa, if each stakeholder planted grapes or fruit trees, the Spanish Valley could rise again as a tree crop and viticulture area.

If Spanish Valley and Moab Valley Farmers and environmentalists work together, Ken’s Lake may well remain a beautiful body of water, enjoyed by all. If not, will the entitled stakeholders pretend that there is no problem, or will they accept responsibility for the outcome?

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By James McGillis at 04:41 PM | | Comments (0) | Link

Going to The Back of Beyond in Downtown Moab, Utah - 2012

 

Going to The Back of Beyond in Downtown Moab, Utah

On April 17, 2012, I departed the Pack Creek Campground, taking U.S. Highway 191 North. After a two-mile drive, I stopped in the parking lot of the Gearheads Outdoor Store, at 471 South Main Street. There, in the parking lot I saw the shadow of the Other, examining an old white Jeep pickup truck. As I approached the little truck, I could see that its frost-white and pale green paint job was new. With a bed full of patio furniture, this was a work truck, not a show truck.

To me, it looked similar to the Jeeps and Jeepsters that I remember from the early 1950s. Below the chrome, 4-Wheel Drive logo, bits of Moab’s red dirt clung to the body. During an extensive internet search, I found other examples of Willys Jeep pickup trucks. The front end of a 1950 model that I found was identical, right down to the eight-by-four grill opening.  While standing there, I decided that this classic model Jeep Truck was where it belonged – in Downtown Moab, Utah.

After admiring the vehicle, I jumped back into my own truck and headed for Downtown Moab. After parking on Main Street, near the Moab Information Center, I walked across the street and entered the Back of Beyond Books. For the past several years, I have provided the hardware and the remote internet server for a Moab Books live webcam, installed at the back of the shop. Today, it was time for a webcam tune-up, which consists mostly of blowing a lot of red Moab dust out of the computer fans.

Next time you are in Moab, be sure to visit the Antiquarian Section, at the back of the bookstore. In my experience, it is the best source for Moab, and Colorado Plateau antique books anywhere. Spending an hour in the Antiquarian Section is like a baptism in the Grand River, or its later incarnation, which is the Colorado River. While you are in the store, look up and locate the small flashing red light. Every ten seconds, that webcam transmits a digital image of the bookstore to the worldwide web. Once you locate the webcam, it is acceptable to make faces or even to smile at the camera. Just remember that there are over 600 million Chinese online now and most of them are probably watching you as you make a fool out of yourself. Before you leave, please tell the staff that the webcam brought you in that day.

At the rear of the store, I went into the staff area, which is off-limits to customers. My approved plan was to blow the dust from the computer, adjust the camera, check its timer and be back on the road as soon as possible. In front of those café doors, the customer sees the results of careful book selection by Andy Nettell and his capable staff. Behind those swinging doors, I found the spirit that makes Back of Beyond Books such a special place.

Rumor has it that many years ago the Monkey Wrench Gang met in the back room of the bookstore. “Back of Beyond”, itself is a reference to their mythical hiding place. From there, this country’s proto eco-terrorists planned their sometimes mythical and sometimes actual plots. On the other hand, was the gang’s association with that particular backroom just a story in itself? Soon, I would have more clues than I could process.

As I looked up from my dusty work, Kokopelli appeared above me. His multicolored blush told me he was up to something. As I stood up, I could see that he had found an old sign, which he had propped up on a nearby laptop computer. As I read the words printed on the sign, a chill ran up my spine. The magnetic decal sign read, “Back of Beyond Expeditions, Jos. Smith Prop., Hite, Utah”. Had Kokopelli stepped into another Edward Abbey time warp? On the sign, I saw the name, occupation and locale of the fictional character, “Seldom Seen Smith”. Edward Abbey featured Seldom Seen Smith in his classic novel, The Monkey Wrench Gang. While looking at the sign, I wondered if Smith might indeed be a real person. After a clandestine meeting in that backroom, perhaps he had rushed out the back door, leaving the famed magnetic sign behind.

Then, from behind me, I sensed that two piercing blue eyes were staring at me. Turning to look, I saw a watercolor painting that captured the feeling of the redrocks around Moab. Standing before the Arches he sought to protect, was the Bard of Moab himself, Edward Abbey. Displayed next to his intense, if not worried countenance were the words, “Abbey & Friends”. Below that was the French phrase, “Livres Disponibles en Francais”. While looking straight into my soul, Abbey silently, yet dispassionately said; “You are going to do the right thing, aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question. I almost blurted out, “Yes, of course I will”, but somehow I managed to remain silent.

Years before, I had asked the Spirit of Edward Abbey to accompany me to Sunset Campground at Navajo National Monument. In his first classic book, Desert Solitaire, Edward Abbey had decried the supposed destruction of the monument in the late 1950s. At that time, the federal government paved the access road and upgraded the campground to contemporary standards. In spirit, he could see that not all the changes to his own personal “Back of Beyond” were harmful. If visitors could not access and enjoy these sacred places, his spirit realized, there would be no one ready to defend them from future harm. Now, from his perch in the backroom of Back of Beyond Books, Edward Abbey still had the power to startle visitors and readers alike.

By the time I left the bookstore, Kokopelli had already reappeared on a bench outside. Behind him, window signage advertised “Rare Books” and “Moab Earth Day”. For me, it felt good to take a deep breath then a walk across town that afternoon. I remembered purchasing a Signet Paperback First Edition of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road” novel at the old ABC & Beyond Bookstore, which once occupied a storefront across the street. I headed toward that shop to see what paperback treasures they might have on hand for me that day. For only two dollars, I found a small book that contained all of the “Utah place names”.

While walking back to my truck, I spotted another interesting Jeep pickup truck. This one was easier to identify than the 1950’s era Willys pickup I had seen earlier that day. After later searching the term “Jeep CJ Truck”, I found this Jeep truck with ease. With its removable half-cab and longer wheelbase, this was a red 1981 – 1984 Jeep CJ-8 Scrambler, 2-door pickup truck. During its four year production run, Jeep sold less than 28,000 CJ-8 trucks. With its special wheels, red & white paintjob and taped graphics, the Jeep looked almost original. Only a pair of lift-brackets beneath the front bumper indicated that this CJ-8 now ran with a higher ground clearance.

As I drove back to the Pack Creek Campground late that afternoon, I paused to think about the day’s activities. I had seen two classic Moab 4-Wheelers, updated the Back of Beyond Books webcam and discovered clues to the onetime whereabouts of the Monkey Wrench Gang. In all of that time, I had seen only one other human being – Edward Abbey, or was it the Spirit of Edward Abbey? A visitor never knows what they will see or who they will meet in Downtown Moab, Utah.

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By James McGillis at 06:22 PM | | Comments (0) | Link