T’was a Dark and Stormy Night…and Morning
Munch Mix n calls the ranger as soon as their office opens in the morning. We are advised not to attempt to visit Horseshoe Canyon in the degrading weather.
For now, it’s cold and rainy and we walk up the street to warm our hands on mugs of coffee while pouring over maps at a small, busy coffee shop. We begin to formulate a plan considering “you should visit…” comments from friends before we left home. Sego Canyon was recommended and it would be our first visit. I was delighted to realize Nine Mile Canyon was on our return drive and that would be our second visit. I read of the Canyon maybe 30 years earlier when individuals and organizations battled over ownership and preservation rights. As a gradeschooler I wondered if I would get to see it before it was ruined…and today I will see it for myself!
We begin our drive north from Moab toward a gray, fuzzy horizon. Munch Mix silently smiles and rolls his eyes as I pull over to snatch a few last photos of the colored cliffs. We reach the tiny community at the head of the road up Sego Canyon. All is quiet and the gray fuzz surrounds us in every direction. We note the crossing of two washes once we’ve entered the mouth of the canyon. The rain blows in our faces as we observe the first couple pictograph panels. Brrrr! It is colder still now. Munch Mix notes that the rain is coming down harder and we have two washes to cross on our return. We return to the highway before reaching the ghost town. Further along the highway we stop at a museum bookstore full of maps, trail guides, area ancient histories and other treasures. I dutifully spend way too much on books. The receptionist is a friendly, forgetful elder volunteer. Three times I pass her desk and each time she welcomes me, tells me about the latest information movie they have to show, and clicks her visitor counter. We leave observing that an unusual looking white/gray veil shrouds the hills in the direction we are headed.
We reach Nine Mile Canyon and are driving directly into the white/gray veil. It is snow and it’s blowing directly into the windshield. Munch Mix narrates the descending thermometer reading on the dash…. 38…. 37… 35….33… 31… 29. The drop has occurred across only a handful of miles. It’s 12:45pm and the headlights are on, the wipers sweep furiously.
Not knowing the road ahead we reconsider the trek. Driving on to Price, we visit the University’s Prehistoric Museum. It’s warm; it’s dry; it’s really a wonderful two-story exhibit of artifacts, stories and histories.
Afterward we settle in for the night at a local hotel. Munch Mix suggests a morning attempt to visit Nine Mile Canyon and that sounds great to me.
