The Biggest Public Land Grab
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FEBRUARY/MARCH 2013 VOLUME 24 NUMBER 6 THE BIGGEST PUBLIC LAND GRAB Industrial Strength “Green Energy” A Solution? Or a Destructive Boondoggle? (above) “The Old & the New”...a 300 ft turbine & a Farm Windmill (below) INDUSTRIAL WIND FARM ZONE at NIGHT...from 40 miles away THE ZEPHYR/ FEBRUARY-MARCH 2013 months in 1980, when its most famous—or per- haps most notorious—resident prepared to sell his home and move south to Arizona. Ed Abbey called Moab home for seven or eight years in the 70s, when he and his wife bought a ranch-style house on Spanish Valley Drive. I met him soon after my own arrival. [email protected] But eventually, Newell, notes, the changes Abbey, always trying to lend a hand to young were for the better. Better services, improved artists, convinced his publisher to use some of ‘OLD MOAB’ vs ‘NEW MOAB— schools. More substantial infrastructure, paved my cartoons in a book he was working on (ul- Ed Abbey, Chilled Red Wine & roads. Moab would never be the remote pasto- timately called ‘The Journey Home’) and I saw When to Clap at the Symphony. ral community it had once been. him occasionally for the next five years, usually at the post office or at the Westerner Grill. In 1952, when Charlie Steen discovered But by Spring 1980, Abbey was ready for a uranium and turned Moab from a sleepy little move. I heard he’d bought a home in Tucson village to the most famous Boom Town in Maxine Newell was born and in early May, a friend told me that Ed was America, many residents were not happy about in Dove Creek but came to loading up a U-Haul truck and planned to be its sudden transformation. Moab was tucked Moab with the boom; gone by the end of the week. I figured it was my last chance to say goodbye, so I drove out to his away in one of the most remote corners of the she remembers the animosity country and was better known for its wind and home, expecting half the town and a cluster of dust and heat and mosquitoes than anything of the old Moabites. Abbey Groupies to be there helping out. In- else. The uranium boom changed all that. “Every time I gripe about stead, I was surprised to find him alone, trying Maxine Newell was born in Dove Creek but bikers, it reminds me of to wrestle a large wood dresser out the door. came to Moab with the boom; she remembers what people said about us. I spent most of the afternoon there as we grappled with the rest of the furniture. Most of the animosity of the old Moabites. “Every time The old timers were I gripe about bikers,” she recalled in a 1995 it fit, but he pointed to an impressive cache of Zephyr interview, “ it reminds me of what just furious.” timber in his garage, 2 x 12 lumber that must people said about us. The old timers were just have been 20 feet long. furious.” “Damn,” he muttered. “I’ll have to leave the beams behind. They’ll never fit in the truck.” In 2012, the Moab of mid-20th Century is I asked him what he planned to do with them. rarely recalled, much less missed or revered. Abbey grinned. With a few exceptions, even the ‘Old Moab’ of “You know...for the houseboat on Lake Pow- 1980 fails to stir much interest for many of its ell...the adobe houseboat. That part of the story new residents. was true.” My own memories of my old hometown of almost 30 years go back to the late 70s, when Moab’s energy boom was on the wane and its tourist economy had not quite taken off. To coin a phrase from the title of a wonderful book about Jackson, Wyoming in the 50s, my early time in Moab was its “cocktail hour”—the town was still reeling from the collapse of the uranium industry and its more entrepreneurial Maxine noted that when thousands of fortune elements had not yet geared up in earnest for seekers descended on Moab, there were only a future that would take Moab, for better or four or five telephones in the entire town. Peo- worse, to the place it has become. ple stood in line for hours just to make a call to Is Moab a better place to live in 2012 than their families. Water was only available every it was 60 years ago? Or 30? It was certainly a other day. Trailers sprung up in backyards to more provincial town back then, less diverse, I drove out to his home, accommodate the overflow. less cultured. I will always remember a few expecting half the town and a cluster of Abbey Groupies to be there helping out. Instead, THE CANYON COUNTRY I was surprised to find him Z E P H Y R alone, trying to wrestle a large Planet Earth Edition wood dresser out the door. JIM & TONYA STILES, publishers PO Box 271 Monticello, UT 84535 Colorado Plateau Bureau Chief DOUG MEYER www.canyoncountryzephyr.com Later he invited me to dinner at the Sund- [email protected] Contributing Writers owner (now Buck’s Grill). He asked me what [email protected] Martin Murie Ned Mudd Chinle Miller kind of wine I preferred and I suggested he Scott Thompson Edna Fridley Ned Mudd All the News that Causes Fits Paul Vlachos Dave Wilder Terry Weiner choose. I was loathe to admit that my knowl- since 1989 edge of wine then was limited to Boone’s Farm The Artist and Cella Lambrusco (it’s only improved mar- THE ZEPHYR, copyright 2013 The Zephyr is produced six John Depuy times a year at various global locations and made available free Historic Photographs ginally since). He ordered a red wine and a big to almost 7 billion people via the world wide webThe opinions Herb Ringer sirloin steak and we talked about Moab and the expressed herein are not necessarily those of its advertisers, Webmaster future. its Backbone members, or even at times, of its publisher. Rick Richardson All Cartoons are by the publishers A year earlier, the accident at the Three Mile 2 THE ZEPHYR/ FEBRUARY-MARCH 2013 Barely a year before he died, Abbey spent his Island nuclear power plant in Pennsylvania last summer in Moab. I took him up to the Sand had cast a dark and ominous cloud over the Flats one day to see the recently re-discovered industry and the price of uranium ore started to “Slickrock Bike Trail.” Moab was on the verge plummet. Layoffs at the Atlas mill were forth- of being transformed once again. Soon we coming and some thought Moab might just dry would become the “Mountain Bicycle Capital up and blow away. Abbey fancied the idea of a of the World” and the old “Uranium Capital...” small self-sustaining “artist community.” How sign would be relegated to Woody’s bar. he thought such a community might escape the commercialism and hype that goes with such a self-proclaimed designation---well, he hadn’t figured that part out yet. The wine came. I’ll take a guess and say it was a good merlot. But the staff at the Sundowner had seen fit to place the bottle in a bucket of ice cubes. Abbey was gracious enough not to embarrass the waitress but when she’d left, Ed grabbed the bottle by the neck and pulled it from the bucket. New Moabites.. will someday “For Christ’s sake, “ Abbey moaned. “Typical find themselves waxing Moab. Doesn’t anyone in this town know that nostalgic for the things they’ve you DON’T chill a red?” lost, as the world continues He dried off the bottle and put it under his to turn over, again and again. jacket, hoping he could at least take the chill Each generation loses off. Then he realized that trying to warm the something and gains something. “Distant Duet” is a new collaboration wine by wedging it in an armpit might be just A never ending trade-off. between two old friends. as offensive to some as its temperature. He de- Since we live on opposite sides cided he was too thirsty for the merlot to await of the country, it can be a challenge to its return to 63 degrees. But Ed had once promoted the idea of replac- make the music happen. As we sipped our icy drinks, Abbey recalled ing cars with bicycles and was annoyed at first But it is worth the effort. another recent Moab faux pas. by my lack of enthusiasm. Our goal is to produce interesting, In those days, the Utah Symphony made an “Hell, Stiles,” he complained. “You’re more original tunes that have something to say annual trip to some of the smaller southern negative than I am!” and engage the ear with tight harmonies. Utah communities, usually in February and the “Well, “ I defended myself. “Have a look first.” We are pleased to announce that our first dead of winter, and performed for the locals. Abbey and I drove his old Ford truck up the CD, In 1980, a visit to Moab by the orchestra was switchbacks above the town and he saw the an event. Moab was still a working man’s town hordes of pedaling recreationists who had then. And yet, Moab music lovers turned out made the pilgrimage to Moab. We watched the each year in record numbers. crowds fill the parking lot as the bikes fanned “Not Just Anyone” The turnout in 1980 surely exceeded a thou- out over the vast expanse of sandstone; Abbey is now available through CDBaby.