|
Arches
and Canyonlands – A Contrast
It
always amazed me that two parcels of land as close together as Arches and
Canyonlands National Parks could be so different. Arches, high in the sky
and light in both color and atmosphere, contrasts sharply with the dark
brown-red depths of the canyons.
Going
to Arches meant half-day hikes that often lasted all day. In a day on the
trails you would meet perhaps three or four people, or groups of people. A
trip into Arches also meant some short and easy hiking in The Windows with
hastily set up shots of dramatic but short-lived sunrises and sunsets
reflected from the orange-red stone.
The
names of Canyonlands’ three districts, Island in the Sky, Needles, and
the Maze, describe the respective areas perfectly. Trips into these areas
were more ambitious. At forty miles by road, Island in the Sky is the closest
destination to Moab. Half of the drive was on a paved road
that contained the narrowest, steepest, and most twisting piece of
pavement I have ever seen. The rest of the drive was on a winding, bumpy,
and washboard dirt road. The beaten old house trailer that served as the
district’s visitor center and ranger station sat beside the road just a
few miles after the pavement ended. The excruciating drive from there to
the road’s end high on the canyon rim seemed to take forever. After
parking your dust-encrusted vehicle and walking a short trail, you could
stand perched on the edge, feeling like the first person to ever see the
sight.
Trips
into the other districts of Canyonlands often meant backcountry excursions
of no less than a day and sometimes several. This was and is a land that
takes plenty of time to explore. Reaching the heart of the Maze took
nearly two days of difficult and sometimes dangerous driving in a high
clearance four wheel drive vehicle,
followed by as much time as one could spend on foot. The Maze was so quiet
you could hear only the wind, and absent that, the blood pumping through
your veins. You could spend as long as you like here without seeing
another soul. It must be the most remote place in the lower 48 states.
|
|
Tourism
and Oil - A New Boom and its Changes
Utah’s
promotion of tourism, an increasing population, the soaring popularity of
mountain biking, the area’s rugged terrain, and the old mineral
exploration roads all combined to create a new boom in Moab. Today it is
widely acknowledged as the world’s mountain biking capital and a Mecca
for 4-wheel drive enthusiasts. I kept track of park visitation numbers for
several years after the discovery of Moab by the masses. The visitation
doubled every year. The park service paved the road to the Island in the
Sky. A few years later the county straightened, regraded, and repaved the
previously paved section outside the park. A few years after that the same
section was widened to accommodate the large oil tank trucks that would service
soon to be drilled oil wells on the plateau, next to the park boundary. The huge increase in
visitation meant that cement walkways and railings had to be installed on
the canyon rim where I had stood years before, feeling as if I was the
first one in the world to be there. In Arches, paved walkways replaced
stone and sand trails in the Windows area. In Moab, big motel chains,
microbreweries, upscale restaurants, and up-priced tourist shops replaced the Moab I knew. The town that once closed at 8 PM
became crowded, noisy, and open all night long. Fred passed away, Joan
moved back east, Jim and Kate moved back west. I lost track of Martha,
Bob, and Larry. The latest boom completely and irrevocably changed the
face of the town and the easily accessible places in the parks. Today the
popular trails in Arches sometimes resemble a crowded city sidewalk.
Fortunately, the backcountry still offers the peace and solitude of days
past, at least for now.
.
The
character of land run by the BLM has changed most. Here the effects of the
tourist boom pale by comparison to that of the Bush energy plan. This
search for more and more oil has sent earth moving equipment, seismic
“thumper trucks”, helicopters, and drilling rigs into the fragile
desert wilderness - where a human footprint in the living cryptobiotic
soil can take fifty years to erase. As their work is completed, once
trackless reaches of the desert plateaus and canyons become laced with a
grid work of wide roads, and silence is replaced by the noise of oilrigs.
Orange beacons of natural gas flares pierce the night, which once
brought darkness from horizon to horizon.
|
