I’ll kick off this installment with this quote from The Monkey Wrench Gang: “Seldom Seen Smith was in the river-running business. The back-country business. He was a professional guide, wilderness outfitter, boatman and packer. His capital equipment consisted basically of such items as rubber boats, kayaks, life jackets, mountain tents, outboard motors, pack saddles, topographic maps, waterproof duffel bags, signal mirrors, climbing ropes, snakebite kits, 150-proof rum, fly rods and sleeping bags. And a pickup and a 2½-ton truck, each with this legend on magnetic decals affixed to the doors: BACK OF BEYOND EXPEDITIONS, Jos. Smith, Prop., Hite, Utah.”
1. Back of Beyond Books, Moab UT.
You don’t know this, but I’m on 7-day road trip, driving “The Mighty Five“. So yea…this week’s installment will be all about that. Road tripin’ The Mighty Five. While in Moab, I stumbled across Back of Beyond, and it’s terrific. The new book selection is strong, but the real draw? If you’re an Ed Abbey geek, here ya go: their “Ed Abbey case,” holds pretty much every one of his titles in first edition—many signed or inscribed. Jonathan Troy? Check. The Brave Cowboy? Check. Shit, I’ve never held a first of Brave Cowboy, and I’ve only seen Jonathon Troy one other time. Plus all his later works still in print, including the Crumb-illustrated Monkey Wrench Gang and the University of Arizona Press edition of Desert Solitaire. Head to the back of the store and you’ll find a great section of rare books. A complete run of Jon Webb’s Outsider magazine, four of the five issues in jacket, and by far the nicest copy I’ve ever seen of Gypsy Lou’s Flowers Picked at Geronimo’s Grave, which, I’m certain, is still under her spell. And if that’s not enough, check out Ed Abbey’s writing desk on display—complete with a faux Abbey manuscript, like he just stepped out to make a quick run for a cold bottle of Schlitz.
Torrey, Utah, was settled in the 1880s by Mormon pioneers. Today it’s best known as the gateway town to Capitol Reef National Park, and most of the town’s population are descended from said Mormon pioneers. So, after a terrific breakfast at the Wild Rabbit Café, we drove around their tiny town. Torrey’s population is maybe 120 (hear hear, Jim Thompson!), so you don’t expect much beyond the terrific, old schoolhouse, now a bed & breakfast. But in that parking lot I spotted a brand-new car up on concrete blocks, all four tires gone. I laughed and asked the couple standing nearby the other parked cars if the tires had been stolen—”because that’s the kind of thing that only happens in Big Bad Blue Cities, not here in Safe-and-Red Small Town, USA.” The woman glared at me and walked away. Yup. It’s their car. Yup, I felt like a giant ass. I apologized profusely to the man, who was good-natured enough about it. He told me the only dealership that could help was in Salt Lake, some 200 miles away. Seven to ten business days for new tires to get delivered to Torrey. My guess? The missing set didn’t make it far out of Torrey. Maybe someone over at that giant polygamist compound right down the street might know a little sumptin’-sumtin?
3. UT-12: Escalante to Boulder
The stretch of Highway 12 from Escalante to Boulder beats Highway 1 from Pacifica to Henry Miller’s cabin—at least when it comes to The Most Harrowing Highway Drives in America. It culminates in what’s called “The Hog’s Back”, a narrow ridge with serious, stomach-turning drop-offs on both sides—the kind that made my palms sweat as I maintained my focus on the solid yellow line. I’m talking like 1,000 foot drops. Did I mention on both sides? Or there’s no guardrails? Stomach-tingling vertigo. Your car on a tightrope. Rolling into the tiny town of Boulder, relief comes at what appears to be a Sinclair gas station. It’s really Hills & Hollow Mini Mart, so go ahead and grab that jar of locally canned pickled beets and a can of fancy oat-milk cold brew to go with that loaf of still-warm, locally-baked bread. Did your analogue camera run out of film? Yup.
Thing 4: The Monkey Wrench Gang
The Monkey Wrench Gang has been on my To-Read list for a long, long time. I dunno why I haven’t gotten around to it until now. I have a faint childhood memory of my mom going to an Ed Abbey reading (maybe ’78?). Also during that time, I’d ride dirt bikes on what was then the edge of suburban Phoenix and I’d see new-home billboards either smashed, burned to the ground or tagged into oblivion, always with SOD — Save Our Desert — sprayed across them in black paint. SOD has stuck ever since. So on my way out of Moab, I grabbed a copy: the paperback “exclusive 50th Anniversary edition from Back of Beyond Books”, along with the new, 2025 clothbound Dream Garden Press edition illustrated by R. Crumb. One I’ve already started to read, the other will sit on my shelf back home and barely molested.
Thing 5: Carl’s Critter Garden
In Hanksville, Utah (population just over 100 depending on the time of year), I stumbled across a folk-art, sculpture garden masterpiece called Carl’s Critter Garden. You can find more online, but I got the real story straight from Dave, who’s been The Critter Garden Guardian for about eight years now. The place is equal parts surreal and twisted, rusted-out metal, not far from the canyons where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid once hid out. My favorite piece? The resident giant space alien who greets you with an important announcement for “the People of Planet Earth”. The message is Everything Empathy—something that feels needed more now than it has in a long, long time.
