Moab for Kiwis
The landscapes around Moab are unlike any others on Earth. So, we couldn’t let a couple of Jason’s relatives, Steve and Wendy, come halfway across the globe from New Zealand without taking them to see that region. Jason’s parents opted to join us for this little weekend excursion, which was during August’s hot thralls. Appallingly, they had never been to Moab in all their years in Utah. Say what? Jason and I have visited Moab dozens of times and, like any self-respecting insufferable-know-it-all, I’ve picked up quite a few useful and not-entirely-useful area details during those many trips. Hence, we made pretty decent guides. Our guests received no shortage of facts and recreation options. Moab stunned them and we wore them out.
Although we arrived in Moab late in the afternoon, we had enough time before sundown to drive to the Island in the Sky District of Canyonlands National Park and check out the Shafer Canyon Overlook and Mesa Arch. The Kiwis in our group were awed by the sheer scope of Canyonlands’ sheerness. They weren’t prepared for its 1,400-foot plunges of pristine crimson and auburn sandstone.
The next morning, we got up at 6:45 AM to hike to Delicate Arch, one of Utah’s most iconic features. Despite our early rising, this 3.2-mile trek was a bit on the unpleasantly warm side. Still, our climb was cool enough that we could legitimately shake our heads at the suckers going up the trail when we were heading down. That’s all that matters, right?
In the afternoon, we went on a rafting expedition down the Colorado River. We thought we’d be cooler on the water. As it turns out, being near water doesn’t actually make you wet… go figure. A little sweat didn’t ruin our ride though. Fine scenery can make one forget about cascades of perspiration flooding every crevice. We saw five otters during our float. Four of these comprised a happy otter family and the other one was a curious and playful fellow that raced our boat for quite a while just for fun. I love otters!
Interestingly, the particular rafting company we used didn’t provide paddles for anyone but our guide, which made me feel slightly pathetic. We went through rapids like White’s Rapid and the Trash Compactor but there really wasn’t much point to adrenaline with our fingers securely wrapped around ropes; whitewater is a much different experience when it’s only your flexed toes holding you in a bobbing raft.
The wind swelled to 35 MPH with gusts up to 60 MPH a mile or two from our take-out point. That rushed air insisted on carrying us upstream so our guide expended a whole lot of energy rowing our raft in circles for half an hour or so. Without oars, the best assistance the rest of us could offer was huddling at the bottom of the boat to keep our wind resistance at a minimum. Still, we made it to our journey’s end only about 15 minutes behind schedule.
On our way home the next day, we stopped at Dead Horse Point State Park and took a little stroll 2,000 feet above the Colorado River. It was two miles of splendid misery. On that skyward plateau, the fierce fingers of the sun pushed waves of sticky heat onto us from above and the extraordinary vistas carved by the Colorado plummeted away from below.
I believe Moab was a hit with our foreign visitors and deprived locals. Steve and Wendy kept saying that they wouldn’t know how to describe what they had seen to others, that it would be hard to convey the size and scope of Moab’s canyons and colors even with pictures. So, I guess that means there isn’t any point in reading this post or contemplating its photos. Just get yourself down to Moab… preferably not in August though.