Moab pt. 3

By the final morning of our stay in Moab, the hotel breakfast was barely cutting it. There’s only so many days in a row you can eat Golden Malted Waffles at the complimentary La Quinta lobby breakfast. After eating just enough to sustain us and not much more, we head out to the Moab Visitors’ Center to inquire about a dog friendly hike nearby that was relatively mild and sent us exploring a different part of canyon country. We were directed up Kane’s Creek Road, opposite the Colorado River from Potash Rd, to a dirt road that hooked and whirled down countless switchbacks to the canyon floor. We stopped at Hunter Canyon and walked a little less than a mile in, side to side straddling a stream. Again, we were enveloped in a stillness, save for the chilly but unfrozen stream’s babbling white noise.. We returned the way we came after exploring the canyon for a bit over an hour: Up the dirt road switchbacks, past the mountain bike trailheads and more petroglyph figures etched in rock, and back to Moab valley to our room.

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Moab Cont’d

Morning Glory Arch hangs in a cavelike culdesac at the terminus of the Grandstaff trail. William Grandstaff was one of the early settlers (post-Native American) of the Moab area, and to see the twisting canyon with its perennial stream cutting through it, I’d say it must’ve been a pretty neat place to call home. The hike was maybe 4 miles roundtrip and not too taxing, with the occasional stream crossing and boulder hopping. Spots of ice still remained in areas of the canyon floor not lucky enough to receive more than an hour of sunlight a day, if that. The trail and the arch were solely ours to enjoy for as long as we pleased; there wasn’t another car in the trailhead parking lot when we arrived. We were surrounded by noiseless wonder- the only sounds being the bubbling stream, the occasional rustle of leaves in the lazy wind, a raven calling from above, or our own labored breaths as we climbed up over a ridge. After spending some time under the arch, examining the quiet spring that seemed to pop arbitrarily through a crack in the sandstone just past ol’ Morning Glory, we retraced our steps back to the trailhead and hopped in the car.

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