We're back and ain't ya thrilled? Back to tell you all about our big adventure in Moab, Utah, gateway to Arches National Park. Oh, believe it or not some folks here and many visitors call this place "Mobe" not Mo-ab. We think maybe it's a Mormon thing because we find them somewhat unfinished, pale, wary of strangers, not fully developed and never really quite clear as to where they live as long as they're close to one of their "temples". But we digress...
First thing we discovered in our search for an arch in Arches National Park was a sign indicating "no dogs allowed". But then, Daisy can't read words or symbols nor in she a dog. And why in the name of the Prophet Isaiah or Jose-ah or "Oh Say Can You See-ah" would they not let a dog walk on the trails in a huge park like Arches? Because they are allowed at the Grand Canyon. But then that's not Mormon country.
This is called what else? "Balancing Rock". How'd you like to have that come down on your car or tent? Like many of the geologic features here this one will soon tumble. In August 2008 one of the loveliest formations called "Wall Arch" collapsed overnight. Heck, there aren't that many arches to begin with and soon this place will be renamed "Fallen Arches National Park." If you want to see what's left you better get here quickly and don't bring a dog.
Probably should have started with this picture but again the computer software keeps rearranging the photos. It's not my fault. Anyway, welcome to Moab. And what a welcome it is with a slimy oil change building right behind the welcome sign.
This is historic downtown Mobe dating back to the 1980s. Most visitors to Mobe are in search of outdoor adventure: rafting the Colorado, hiking the red rocks, or hitting the trails on mountain bikes.But we had a singular mission in mind. And yep, we found it.
The local state liquor store! We stocked up on wine ...
and bought this little tag-along trailer to haul it in. Is any of this making any sense?
Here's another "Welcome to Mobe" sight. Why in God's name can't the Mobens keep the main highway into town a bit more attractive? It's like this is a town of hoarders. Junk is strewn everywhere. Salvage yards, dilapidated structures, junk, junk, junk. Mobe seems more interested in getting the tourists in and out versus giving them a quality upscale experience. They need to take a cue from our town, Sedona, or Santa Fe or Tusayan leading into the Grand Canyon. The drives into those places are very welcoming and help to enhance the visitor experience.
Back to the park. Here's an arch that hasn't fallen. Yet. It's the only one you can see well from the road.
Here's Paul in his new "go to hell" high-SPF fedora, arch in the background and Daisy violating the rules. We're writing this sitting in Salt Lake City in an RV park about fifty yards off the freeway with trucks blasting by all night. It's windy. It's raining. And it's pretty typical of life on the road. We're also about two miles from SLC International Airport so when there's a break in the big rig traffic you're serenaded by the planes roaring for takeoff down the runway. It's quite a counterpoint to our two-day layover between Mobe and Salt Lake City. Unbuckle and remove the earplugs because the odd, tiny ghost town of Scofield, Utah is next.
We're back and ain't ya thrilled? Back to tell you all about our big adventure in Moab, Utah, gateway to Arches National Park. Oh, believe it or not some folks here and many visitors call this place "Mobe" not Mo-ab. We think maybe it's a Mormon thing because we find them somewhat unfinished, pale, wary of strangers, not fully developed and never really quite clear as to where they live as long as they're close to one of their "temples". But we digress...
First thing we discovered in our search for an arch in Arches National Park was a sign indicating "no dogs allowed". But then, Daisy can't read words or symbols nor in she a dog. And why in the name of the Prophet Isaiah or Jose-ah or "Oh Say Can You See-ah" would they not let a dog walk on the trails in a huge park like Arches? Because they are allowed at the Grand Canyon. But then that's not Mormon country. 
This is called what else? "Balancing Rock". How'd you like to have that come down on your car or tent? Like many of the geologic features here this one will soon tumble. In August 2008 one of the loveliest formations called "Wall Arch" collapsed overnight. Heck, there aren't that many arches to begin with and soon this place will be renamed "Fallen Arches National Park." If you want to see what's left you better get here quickly and don't bring a dog.
Probably should have started with this picture but again the computer software keeps rearranging the photos. It's not my fault. Anyway, welcome to Moab. And what a welcome it is with a slimy oil change building right behind the welcome sign. 
This is historic downtown Mobe dating back to the 1980s. Most visitors to Mobe are in search of outdoor adventure: rafting the Colorado, hiking the red rocks, or hitting the trails on mountain bikes.But we had a singular mission in mind. And yep, we found it.
The local state liquor store! We stocked up on wine ... 
and bought this little tag-along trailer to haul it in. Is any of this making any sense?
Here's another "Welcome to Mobe" sight. Why in God's name can't the Mobens keep the main highway into town a bit more attractive? It's like this is a town of hoarders. Junk is strewn everywhere. Salvage yards, dilapidated structures, junk, junk, junk. Mobe seems more interested in getting the tourists in and out versus giving them a quality upscale experience. They need to take a cue from our town, Sedona, or Santa Fe or Tusayan leading into the Grand Canyon. The drives into those places are very welcoming and help to enhance the visitor experience.
Back to the park. Here's an arch that hasn't fallen. Yet. It's the only one you can see well from the road.
Here's Paul in his new "go to hell" high-SPF fedora, arch in the background and Daisy violating the rules. We're writing this sitting in Salt Lake City in an RV park about fifty yards off the freeway with trucks blasting by all night. It's windy. It's raining. And it's pretty typical of life on the road. We're also about two miles from SLC International Airport so when there's a break in the big rig traffic you're serenaded by the planes roaring for takeoff down the runway. It's quite a counterpoint to our two-day layover between Mobe and Salt Lake City. Unbuckle and remove the earplugs because the odd, tiny ghost town of Scofield, Utah is next.
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Keep it clean, please. And nice. And complimentary.