Echoes of Glen Canyon

Echoes of Glen Canyon

Admiring a place that I have been apprehensive to visit

           I was up in Moab for the tail end of November and felt as if I had stumbled onto a quiet surprise.  The town barely resembled its high season self when it becomes an odd conglomeration of ORV’ers, desert rats, backpackers, rafters, climbers, escapists etc.  No, November brought with an empty main street, ample parking room, and an underlying notion that the locals were glad to have their town returned to them

           I was hanging out with family in the morning at a small café and was reading the paper about the letter that was sent to President Obama by 100 outdoor related businesses requesting the creation of a new national monument.  The plan, known as Greater Canyonlands National Monument, detailed here would basically protect an additional 1.4 million acres stretching from Hanksville on the western border to Moab on the eastern border and from UT 95 on the south to roughly 15 miles of south of Green River to the north.

A map of the proposed monument

            I could write a whole piece about the politics of current issue, but I just want to briefly mention an interesting realization I made when thinking about this issue. 

            First, as someone who, echoing many of my peers, gets tired of tourists in Moab and other areas of the four corners in the “high seasons” (basically the whole year except winter) I find myself rethinking my previous attitude.  When on the trail or out exploring I am always looking for places free of people.   I can honestly say I have decided to stay at home with time off vs get outdoors because I didn’t want to deal with “the crowds.” 

Any and all people who enjoy the outdoors can empathize with this view.  But now, reading about the fight the outdoor industry is putting up to protect this truly special land from the likes of uranium miners, hydro-frackers, tar sand developers etc., I want to extend a huge THANK YOU to the omnipresent “crowds” that flood our national parks and public lands, particularly in SE Utah.  If it were not for these people and the industries that’ve sprung up to support them (mostly responsibly) then there would not currently even be a push to protect this truly unique part of the state. 

            As I sat in the warm November sun staring at Delicate Arch stretch upward in all its glory, having the whole place practically to myself, I thought about the people who travel from around the world to see this arch.  It is the archetypal image for the SW desert landscape.  I often complain about how Arches National Park is “ruined,” that the hike to Delicate Arch on most days resembles more of an anthill than a peaceful stroll.  I get selfish; I want it all to myself.  I get sick of waiting in lines, checking boxes, applying for permits to even be allowed to sleep on my “public lands.”  But then I ask myself, would there be a push to protect this area if no one came here?

Camster and I heading back from out vantage point

        In 2006, an estimated 19.3 non-residential tourists accounted for an estimated $5.87 billion in traveler spending in the state of Utah.  Additionally, this generated an estimated $467 million in state and local tax revenue.  Many of these visitors came to the state seeking outdoor recreation in some form.  In our political system, having that kind of capitol behind your movement allows you a voice to the highest level of government.

            Glen Canyon, before the dam, was called “The Place No-One Knew.”  It is understood that one reason that it went under is that it had few advocates.  Those who knew it were only the most hardcore desert rats, in search of the Holy Grail, the elusive people-less desert wilderness.  Without the large crowds that we all complain about, Glen Canyon was doomed.  It was only after the water began to back up that people got a glimpse and realized what was about to be drowned.  Hopefully the same is not destined for the Greater Canyonlands area.