I have been making trips out west for most of my life, and part of that experience has been to photograph the oddities, sights, skies and landscapes on the way to and from my destinations.
Nothing says “road trip” quite like a filthy truck on a lonely turnout at sunrise.
For decades I have used Interstate 40, but as the picturesque history of Interstate 40, which runs parallel the famous Route 66, has slowly been accumulating decay, trash, and a general destruction of the natural beauty and luster, I decided to find a different route from my home in Oklahoma to Moab, Utah.
Driving from Oklahoma to Denver, Including the High Point of Kansas
I struck out very early, rolling north on I-35, then I-135, then I-70.
My readers know that even in the utility of a long, dull drive, I still want to find a photo op here and there.
My first photo of the trip is this metal sunflower at a Kansas rest stop. I photographed it once before, on a trip to Wichita in 2003.
The day was bright and the travel fast. The map temped me with St. Fidelis Basilica in Victoria, Kansas, and what tipped the scale for me to stop and photograph it was that I could see it for miles as I approached the town, which was lovely. The Church is also known as “The Cathedral of the Plains.”
St. Fidelis Basilica in Victoria, Kansas is beautiful, especially set against a perfect Kansas sky. The church is known as “The Cathedral of the Plains.”I spotted this mail box across the street from the church. The whole neighborhood looked bright, clean, and well-kept.North of Victoria I spotted the Saint Fidelis Cemetery, which was even more visually interesting than the church.A small U.S. flag flaps in the bright, clear afternoon breeze.At the back of the cemetery is this statue.A conveyor lifts freshly-cut corn into a pile along U.S. 40 in western Kansas.
Mount Sunflower: Recommended
I next set my sights on the high point of Kansas, Mount Sunflower. It’s not actually a mountain, but it counts as a state high point. If you are in the area and have the time, I recommend it, but not as a destination.
Mount Sunflower is located at the end of miles of very well-groomed dirt county roads, which lead to this cattle guard.
The five miles of dirt roads leading in from U.S. 40 and the 15 miles of dirt roads leading north to I-70 were smooth and well-graded, probably very recently. Even “Washboard Road” wasn’t washboarded. Mount Sunflower is just half a mile from the Kansas-Colorado border.
Intersections had very faded signs for the routes in and out of the attraction.
Mount Sunflower is at the end of a short road on private property. The monument is apparently a labor of love by the landowners.
In the distance, I could see combines and the dust they were stirring up. As I was making pictures, two large pickups pulled up, and out stepped nearly a dozen young men.
Young farm workers mill around Mount Sunflower.
One of the guys told me they had “been combining,” first the wheat harvest, then corn. One of them agree to make a picture of me at Mount Sunflower.
This is me posing at only my third state high point. In 2003, I high-pointed Texas by climbing Guadalupe Peak, and in 2021, I climbed Wheeler Peak, the high point of New Mexico.
I would like to make high-pointing more states a goal for my future travels.
This sunflower sculpture is made of railroad spikes welded together.Late afternoon sun shines through the Mount Sunflower monument.My truck casts a shadow on rows and rows of corn in the fields along the county roads north of Mount Sunflower.In for the night in my motel room outside Denver, I found the lights around the mirror in the bathroom created some pretty trippy highlights in my eyes, almost resembling a square ring light.
Driving through the Rocky Mountains, Aspen, then on to Green River, Utah
I kept a dash cam ready for still frames of interesting items on my drive, like this large I-70 tunnel.
The morning was sunny and chilly in Denver, though much of the area east of the city is full for miles of soul-crushing industrial sprawl.
Leaving Denver and climbing into the Front Range went well for a while, but as light, blowing snow began falling, traffic dragged to a halt.
This image shows traffic on I-70 dragging along very slowly in blowing snow and slightly slushy roads.
I never got a clear picture of why we were essentially stopped for an hour, but I’m sure it was due to weather, maybe from snow plows, or the fact that commercial vehicles were required to pull into chain-up areas and put chains on their drive wheels.
By the time we hit the Eisenhower Tunnel, traffic was moving along smoothly. Wikipedia says, “With a maximum elevation of 11,158 feet above sea level, it is one of the highest vehicular tunnels in the world. The tunnel is the longest mountain tunnel and highest point on the Interstate Highway System.”
The snow seemed light, and the temperature according to my dashboard thermometer never dropped below about 30ºF, so the chain law seemed premature.
Farther west, the snow stopped, but everything was grey. I was still very glad to be there.I caught a small avalanche during a stop at a rest area.I like this style of using logs as fences.I saw this fleeting eye of blue above a mountain ridge on my I-70 drive.There was no scarcity of stickers on almost everything you could find to put a sticker on, pretty much everywhere.The snowy sky gradually turned deep blue as I made my way west.Another, shorter tunnel farther west shows better and more “lyrical” motion as I drive through.I am seeing these more and more out west, at travel centers like T/A and Maverick. The machine grinds a small amount of beans of your choice to make the cup you want. I think the coffee tastes pretty great. Have you seen these in the field? IS the coffee they make any good in your opinion?
Aspen, Colorado: Not Recommended
I told myself I would see Aspen, Colorado, since it was just an hour from I-70. I had heard things about it that didn’t sound like it would be my scene, like there wasn’t much to do without spending a ton of money.
I would be happy to agree that Apsen is a pretty town, but I am willing to guess that the ski scene is a whole lot more about showing off than having fun.This touch of architecture looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright.
The light was pretty and the air was chilly, so I had fun prowling around the downtown shops and streets.
I came across a kiosk with a nice lady promoting Aspen tourism. She showed me a map of the town, and said, “Well, we’ve got Prada and Ralph Lauren and Gucci, unfortunately.” She seemed to dislike the idea that Aspen was so wealthy and elite.
There had been a noticeable absence of color in most of “Colorful Colorado,” so when I saw these aspens in Aspen, I knew I couldn’t say no to them.There is a fair amount of color in Aspen, both natural and human.Looking toward the west, we can see some of the ski slopes.Clean windows and clean bricks facilitate a clean image of the sky.Yes, Aspen has alleys, so I found my way into this one.
Green River, Utah: Not Recommended
The town of Green River is a spent force. Despite it being the only services for 110 miles in either direction on I-70, services were spare. The length of the town is littered with failure: failed businesses, failed government, failed people begging by the side of the road; bleak and depressing.
Fortunately, I was only spending the night. In the morning, I couldn’t even find a hot meal.
This lighted motel sign was the only thing I felt like photographing in Green River, Utah.
The San Rafael Reef: Highly Recommended
There is something for every adventurer in Utah, including the spare, arid wilderness of the San Rafael Reef.
I was up early enough to catch the sunrise on Wild Horse Butte, in this three-exposure high dynamic range (HDR) image.This view of the Reef looks north from the same post as the previous image.The sky brightens in this view looking east, which includes three jet contrails.The bold edge of Wild Horse Butte is bathed in the first light of the day.The road to Mollie’s Castle takes on a the complexity or morning light in this three-exposure HDR image.Walking back to my truck from the spot of the previous image, I grabbed an image of a stop sign at first light.I made one last HDR image of Wild Horse Butte before driving the five miles to Little Wild Horse Canyon for my morning hike.
I hadn’t been to the San Rafael Reef in 20 years, and wanted to rediscover it. The most straightforward, and most popular, is the Little Wild Horse/Bell Canyon Loop. Early in the hike, Little Wild Horse Canyon turns into a narrow slot canyon, and is both easy to hike and easy to photograph.
I asked a nice couple to photograph me in Little Wild Horse Canyon.
Typically, this slot canyon has a lot of variety and color. It is usually dry, but when rain does fall and collects in it, it can be a while before it dries out, since sunlight never makes it to the floor of the canyon.
Puddles like this were pretty typical on this hike, but as you can see, hikers have placed stepping stones so we didn’t have to get too wet.
In 2005, I photographed this feature with a bulky Sigma 14mm with a huge scratch on the front element, but this time, I turned to my relatively new AF-S Nikkor 10-20mm, which is not only undamaged, but is also wider, sharper, and much lighter than that old 14mm.
In the canyon to and from Little Wild Horse, I found very beautiful yellow trees set against a perfect blue sky.
Morning sun shines through autumn leaves in the San Rafael Swell.For me, there is nothing more promising in the air than morning sunshine.
By late morning, I was done in the Swell, and headed for Moab. I halfway hoped for a hot meal on the way, but the only hint of civilization was at Crescent Junction where I-70 intersects with U.S. 191. The brand new “Golden Gate” convenience store hadn’t yet installed their hot food section, so I settled for gassing up and eating a trail mix bar.
Welcome to Area 52 Jerky, I guess.
At that stop, I found the greenest business I have ever found, Area 52 Jerky, home of Jackass Joe’s World’s Largest Slice of Jerky. My readers know that I don’t eat jerky, since I don’t eat meat, but this photo op was irresistible.
Inside Area 52 Jerky was as odd as the outside.I admit to fantasizing once in a while about driving around in a van, solving mysteries.Hey, who’s hungry?There is a reason the signs say “keep out,” and that reason is probably that someone got hurt or did damage not keeping out.
Canyonlands National Park, Island in the Sky District: Highly Recommended
By early afternoon, I was in the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands National Park. Despite the government shutdown, there was a fair crowd at the visitor’s center, but with no one to take my money or my park pass, I continued.
This is a classic view at Canyonlands National Park. Readers occasionally mistake this for the Grand Canyon.
I hiked two old favorite trails, the White Rim Overlook Trail, and the Grand View Trail. Both are easy, fun trails with great views.
A nice couple from Minnesota made this picture for me. The air was clear and visibility was unlimited.Another sign of recent rain was this pothole. A ranger once told me that there are creatures that complete their entire life cycles in the time it takes for this rainwater to dry.The White Rim Overlook Trail includes views of Monument Basin far below.I have talked with friends a few times about taking this road, the White Rim Road. My Nissan Frontier 4×4 could manage it easily. If you look closely, you can see a vehicle in the middle of this image.This is me on the other side of Grand View Point. I am standing on a prominence that I climbed because I overheard someone say, “It’s worth it.”
I grabbed a bite in Moab, Utah at Fiesta Mexicana, which was great.
I’m not usually a food reviewer or a food photographer, but I will say that I have seldom had a bad meal in Moab, Utah, including this meal at Fiesta Mexicana.
Moab, Utah at Night: Highly Recommended
After dinner I felt I had a surplus of energy, and that the lights and life on Moab’s only thoroughfare, U.S. 191, was photographically very inviting. I grabbed by Nikon D5500 and the lens I brought specifically for night photography, my AF-S Nikkor 35mm f/1.8.
A blue sign is set against the evening sky.Red letters made to resemble neon lights glow on Main Street.People stroll up and down Main Street in Moab.
I was more impressed with the lights and night life in Moab than I was with Santa Fe, which I photographed at night on two occasions. Moab night life, at least on the night I was prowling, came closer to the style of Las Vegas.
A lamp on a store front glows in the night air.I think the mud on the nose of this truck in the bright night lights represents the ethos of Moab.
Moab has changed a lot since I first visited in 2002. I can’t say I am incredibly pleased about it’s growth, but it has done a better job evolving than towns like Taos, New Mexico, which has self-destructed under the weight of economic growth and setbacks.
I like rocks too.Night lights are brighter than ever due to the use of LED bulbs.I never found an inhabited place in Utah that didn’t have tons of stickers on everything.
The one thing I decidedly dislike about Moab is that since U.S. 191 is the only through-route in that part of Utah, it is constantly congested with trucks, sometimes semis or even double-pup semis.
Look at that absolutely beautiful light.This art installation is in the very center of Moab.Yes: Simply Moab.
Corona Arch: Highly Recommended
I was surprised when my friend Robert, who was driving to Provo, Utah, for a wedding, called at 5:30 a.m., saying he was in Moab. “Moab Diner in 30,” I said. With a hot breakfast in front of us, he explained that he arrived in Moab during the night, and made his way into Arches National Park to photograph the stars at night.
“I’ve got my eyes on the prize,” I explained, or something like that, after breakfast as Robert and I drove toward Moab’s famous Corona Arch.
Robert and I decided to hike to Corona Arch, a huge natural arch on the Potash Road above Bootlegger Canyon west of Moab. The hike is 1.5-miles one-way.
We came across this group of tourists looking at pictographs on the cliffs above the Potash Road.Those familiar with Corona Arch will recognize these railroad tracks at the trail head.Robert makes a selfie while I explain that the trail isn’t the Burger King drive-through.There is a short chain on a steep section of boulder with a few Moki steps.This is me near the top of the chain-assisted portion of the trail. The chain is set in just the right place, and going both up and down resembled rappelling. I was very comfortable using the chain.
I hiked to Corona Arch once before, on a record-hot day in June of 2006. This hike, on the other hand, started out quite chilly, which I happily embraced.
This is me at the top of a short ladder that was installed by the Bureau of Land Management on the Corona Arch Trail. You can see that by the time we climbed the chain and the ladder, I had removed my fleece pullover as the morning sun quickly warmed us up.Robert and I asked a fellow traveler to make a picture of us with Corona Arch in the background.I love this image Robert made of me photographing Corona Arch. The next image is the one I was making…Corona Arch is shown with my oft-used sunstar, in this three-exposure HDR image.Robert brought his chrome hubcap, which he carried tucked in the hood of his jacket.Your host works with Robert’s chrome hubcap.The three adult figures beneath Corona Arch gives an idea of the size of this feature.
A park ranger once told me that if Corona Arch, which spans 142 feet at its widest, was anywhere else in the world, it would be its own National Monument, but since southern Utah is so full or parks and monuments, it would have to remain a popular attraction on Bureau of Land Management land.
Hugging the ledge on the north side of the approach to Corona Arch gave me this excellent view of the brilliant autumn sunshine.I make pictures in a shaft of morning light.I blundered up to the cliff to pose with a seep, which I thought resembled people.The far side of Corona Arch, to the east, includes these two caves. Although I didn’t do it, from here there appears to be an easy hike to stand on top of the arch.Here is another effort to commit art at Corona Arch.Just to the west, on the approach/departure of Corona Arch, is Bowtie Arch.Robert makes a photo of a pair of fellow hikers.Robert makes his way down the slope with the Moki steps and the chain. Coming down, you can load up completely on the chain, almost like rappelling.
Back in Moab, I dropped Robert off at his vehicle for the rest of his drive to Provo to attend a wedding. I tried a couple of four-wheel-drive roads, but washboarding was extensive, and I found it stressful instead of fun. With the day nearing its end, and with our success at Corona Arch, I watched the evening from a chair outside my motel room, browsing maps and contemplating my route home.
The Sultan was next door to my motel room, and smelled amazing as dinner time approached, so I strolled over and tried their pesto penne, which was absolutely delicious.
South to Blanding, Utah, across the Comb Ridge to Halls Crossing, then south into Arizona: Recommended
All the maps have this drive marked as scenic, but even as the first light started to appear in the east, I knew it was going to make amazing pictures.
The sun peaks out from the horizon south of Moab.Layers of fog drift in and out of the mesas and hills near Church Rock.The rising sun dots the landscape with red mesas in a palette of blues and greys.In the distance, layers of hills and clouds catch morning light.In Blanding, I bought this. Who. Am. I?
I turned west and crossed the Comb Ridge, in and out of rain. I went from the strikingly colorful bands of low clouds and fog at sunrise south of Moab to brooding, mostly colorless storm clouds on the road from Blanding to Halls Crossing at Lake Powell.
The sky took on a complex, dark, almost sinister appearance.Cumulus clouds popped up and rained for a bit, then gave way to blue skies.I drove up a short side road, which afforded me this view of Utah 276 as it winds through Clay Hills Pass. I had most of this 50-mile drive entirely to myself.As I turned onto Utah 261, I looked north to make this view of The Bear’s Ears, after which the National Monument spanning much of the area gets its name.At the top of the Moki Dugway (sometimes spelled Mokee), there was an official state highway sign that read “Mokee Dugway Elev. 6425 ft; 1100 ft. drop next 3 miles.” When Abby and I first drove it in 2003, it was new, but as years passed, it accumulated dozens of stickers. On this trip down the Dugway, the sign is no longer there. I don’t know if it was removed by the highway department, or stolen.This view of the storied Moki Dugway is a fitting final image for this report. After Abby and I drove it for the first time in July 2003, one of our nicknames for each other was “Mokee.”
2 Comments
This is like a breath of fresh life, a vacation read. A break from the drool scroll of dumpster fire content. The words have soul the images have heart. It is much needed light in a world that grows dark. So refreshing.
What a great adventure. Thanks for sharing it with us!
This is like a breath of fresh life, a vacation read. A break from the drool scroll of dumpster fire content. The words have soul the images have heart. It is much needed light in a world that grows dark. So refreshing.
What a great adventure. Thanks for sharing it with us!