Since the first time my knobby tires hit dirt back in the early 90s when I regularly biked Mt. Tam in Marin, I’ve always wanted to hit the trails in Moab, Utah. Those red mountain single tracks, biking to the edge of a thousand foot drop on some mesa . . . all those things I heard about, there they were, at our disposal when we arrived in Moab on July 8. But there was just one problem: it was a record-breaking day weather-wise, a whopping 100-something, in a town that never gets that hot. Only a fool would ride under those conditions.
So we waited it out at Canyonlands RV Resort to see if it would cool off (see my review at RVparkreviews.com). Swam in their tepid pool. Had some great brews at the Moab Brewery across the street. Then, around 7pm when it cooled down to about 80 degrees, we went out looking for adventure. We found it. But only for about an hour. Dumb fools we are, we forgot to take water with us. Ugggh!
Moab was fine, but it wasn’t what we thought it would be, and it definitely isn’t on our list of potential towns to relocate to. It’s hella dusty. Too hot. Other than the nice woman at the Barkery, the locals we encountered weren’t very friendly, and many were just miserable looking. Was it the heat? Or was it Utah? You decide.
Also, we will never move to Moab because you can’t buy booze in grocery stores. Sheesh, all I wanted was a good bottle of wine and we couldn’t find it anywhere on a Sunday night. And the town is so reliant on tourism, right now it seems like they aren’t getting enough of it because there was a ton of vacant storefronts and businesses for sale. Sad.
So we split. The heat was unrelenting, the Utah fires were coming our way, making the sky really hazy, so onward and eastward we went to Colorado.