10 October, 2012
Moab, Utah
What is Denver, but Tulsa with a view? Bill Stewart
What is Denver, but Tulsa with a view? Bill Stewart
Things got a little weird in Denver, so we split for
Utah.
Heading 70 West out into the Rockies, we made good time,
despite facing headwinds again. At one
point it seemed the truck wouldn’t even roll downhill. I’m beginning to adhere to the original
mantra of taking the time to enjoy the journey.
Perhaps it’s a realization after the fact, as we bolted to Denver from
Wichita yesterday direct, nearly 600 miles in less than 9 hours. If you rush, you miss the experience, and
probably wind up hurrying up and waiting, and in our case, freezing as well.
After three hours of searing between the ridges and through
the tunnels, running off the road trying to absorb the incredible scenery, we
broke for lunch in Parachute, Colorado, site of a famous train robbery. We had a delightful Salvadoran meal, and met
an extremely nice Hispanic lady, Theresa.
Entering Utah was a
complete rush, and I tried to get Kaya to drive so as to captivate more
directly into the landscape.
I have never seen the slickrock country in person, or the
bluffs jutting, seemingly randomly, out of the desert floor. As we came into Yellowcat, Utah, I began pulling
over every five minutes to make photographs, trying the camera on the ipad as
well as the mini-nikon. The rest areas
of Utah are oriented around spectacular views, bluffs in the foreground,
juxtaposed against tall eroding sandstone slopes in tones ranging from buffs
and beiges to the most vibrant of rust and vermillion. Many of the outcroppings are decidedly
Egyptian, affecting pharaohs and the sphinx.
Missing the exit 182, after looking out for it for 90 miles,
I backed down the onramp, as an alternative to the half-hour it would take to
get to the next exit and turn around. It’s
not like there was anyone else there. It
is a great unheralded pleasure to have a mile between one’s vehicle and the
nearest one, especially in a magnificent, surreal landscape. Some might say moonscape.
Repositioned, once again towards mountain-biking Mecca,
Moab, we came south in the fading light, which just increased the contrast on
the bluffs and the timeless peaks beyond. After passing Arches and Canyonland
National Parks, I was surprised by the popularity of this outpost, once praised
for its very remoteness by Edward Abbey, who would be appalled at how hopping
and built-out it is. It’s also seriously funky and down-to earth, with
climbers, paddlers, parachute pilots and the communal brace of well-seasoned
mountain bikers, many with their personal braces and bandages, courtesy of the
slickrock. There is a plein-air painting festival this weekend.
I think we may stick around for a couple of days, as it’s
Summer here still, and terrifyingly beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment