Moab

Moab is neither an Indian name nor an abbreviation (as in “Mother of all B——). In the Bible, Moab was the grandson of Lot and the arid land to the east of the Dead Sea. That is the most likely reason Mormon Missionaries chose this for the name of this town in Utah.

There are a number of campgrounds around Moab but Mrs Ram wanted one with a pool and showers. It also had to be close to Arches and Canyonland.  She chose Canyonland RV Campground, located nearly in the center of town, as our base during our stay. Campsites were tight but unlike some of the RV campgrounds we saw coming in, this one had plenty of trees.

Mrs Ram enjoyed a couple of dips in the heated pool but felt exposed as the pool was right next to the road.

On our first morning in the campsite, I was slowly waking around 7 am when I thought I heard a thumping bass. Campground quiet hours were supposed to go till 8 am. Was someone breaking the rules? Or maybe someone in a car at the nearby gas station was sharing his joy of music. As I listened, I realized it sounded more like marching band music than hip-hop.

The Grand County High School football field was next to our campground and the band practiced every morning. We caught some of the band and football game from our campground on Friday night.

On our second evening there, we met and shared a campfire with Bill, a retired Judge from Nebraska. He was camping in his GMC Canyon pickup heading for the west coast.

We also met Brenda and her husband, a California couple traveling in a Roadtrek RV Ram van. They were headed to the Banff Film and Book Festival.

Being in the center of town meant we had more options for beer than we usually did. Rather than searching for a can in the back of the fridge, we headed across the street to the Moab Brewing Company. It was crowded but Mrs Ram snagged a high top table for four in the bar. Another couple was searching for a table and she suggested they share with us. Mel and Joe were visiting from Flagstaff.

On Sunday we went to Mass at St Pius and were inspired and amused by the Nigerian priests sermon about love and dancing.

We met several people after church including Tony whose family owned the Kokepelli Gallery. We visited the gallery and enjoyed talking with Tony’s son and seeing all of their Indian jewelry and pottery.

Tony’s son and other locals we spoke with said this town can get crazy in the summer. One said she would bike rather than drive since there are times you are not allowed to take any left turns.

We were glad we were visiting over the Columbus weekend. It was busy but not crazy.