Walked downtown Moab, about a mile long and two blocks wide. The occasional restaurant, bookstore, Sedona-style art gallery with an emphasis on Indian works. Many places offering ATV tours, mountain bike rentals, raft trips, etc.; of course, we would have none of it, settling for smoothies and a leisurely afternoon in camp.
In camp we met a man from Massachusetts on a fishing trip with his adult son from Nevada, traveling in a beautifully restored 1963 Avion. He envied our trailer and I envied his. Damn, failed to take a picture.
Late that day we returned to Arches and hiked about 2 miles of Devil’s Garden, which included the most impressive arch of all—Landscape Arch. Over 100 yds wide and as tall as the Statue of Liberty, yet perilously thin across the span. Stunning.
We went from Devil’s Garden to the ranger show, where we ate turkey wraps Marcia had prepared and listened to a good discussion of author Edward Abbey’s life. Long ago I read a couple of his books including Monkey Wrench Gang, but had never read Desert Solitare, his nonfiction (well, mostly nonfiction) account of life in Arches as the only park ranger in the 1950s. I’ll have to read it. We returned to our camp that night in pitch dark, but with the skies awash in stars.
In camp we met a man from Massachusetts on a fishing trip with his adult son from Nevada, traveling in a beautifully restored 1963 Avion. He envied our trailer and I envied his. Damn, failed to take a picture.
Late that day we returned to Arches and hiked about 2 miles of Devil’s Garden, which included the most impressive arch of all—Landscape Arch. Over 100 yds wide and as tall as the Statue of Liberty, yet perilously thin across the span. Stunning.
We went from Devil’s Garden to the ranger show, where we ate turkey wraps Marcia had prepared and listened to a good discussion of author Edward Abbey’s life. Long ago I read a couple of his books including Monkey Wrench Gang, but had never read Desert Solitare, his nonfiction (well, mostly nonfiction) account of life in Arches as the only park ranger in the 1950s. I’ll have to read it. We returned to our camp that night in pitch dark, but with the skies awash in stars.
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