It's curious how Utah gradually gets under your skin (heck, I even lived there for awhile, and didn't particularly care for it). But then it begins: You see a beautifully toned photograph of a magnificent ruin. Or you visit Arches National Park or Islands in the Sky, and you find the upended geology oddly fascinating. You learn about the Needles – that vast district containing bizarre rock formations that Salvador Dali would have loved: Arches on acid. And you begin to hear intriguing rumors about The Maze.

The Green & Colorado rivers bound Canyonland's districts. Their confluence is the nerve center from which all this seems to emanate: The sheer drop-offs of Islands in the Sky to the north; the collapsed salt dome of the Needles district to the East. But the west is the best: The Maze is the least accessible and most rugged of Canyonland's districts, getting only about 1,000 visitors annually. Few stock vehicles can endure its class-4 roads for the brutal two-day round trip; vehicle damage is practically guaranteed. But its fantastic formations make it worth attempting: The Dolls house, Land of Standing Rocks, The Chocolate Drops. You begin to suspect that if the southwest has a soul, it must be hidden here, among the Maze district's labyrinthine fins & canyons.

I've been obsessed with The Maze for sometime, and after a while, I began to think that the rumors about the roads were overblown (it is the NPS, after all). Maybe my stock Grand Cherokee could make it? Not convinced, I signed up for the last Tagalong Maze tour of the season, and got ready for the departure from Moab.

Burgled by a Wanker
The afternoon before I departed for The Maze, however, my home was burgled. The event transpired quickly, because the Denver PD and neighbors effectively thwarted the effort. Pictures of the evil man were taken with my in-house web cameras. But I was shaken. How could I possibly leave for Utah the very next morning? I decided that if my stuff got ripped, then so be it – I couldn't babysit it forever.

The next morning I barricaded the compromised door to my nervous satisfaction, and pointed my Jeep toward Moab. But the engine misfired repeatedly and the check engine light came on, blinking urgently on subsequent misfires. The Grand Cherokee was trying desperately to get attention, but I foolishly ignored the warning and proceeded down the interstate, driving tentatively over the passes. I made it to Moab well in time for the trip, leaving the car at a mechanic for the duration.

Approaching The Maze
Four clients attended the Maze trip; five including our Tagalong tour guide. Dave looked the part: He was sunburned, unshaven, and looked like he'd just gotten off another trip hours earlier (which was probably true). He was dressed in a cowboy hat & Chaco sandals. His homeless aroma and the fresh hotel hygiene of his clients struggled to find common ground. He was polite but serious as he sized up his customers. He nailed me – saying that I still had time to run over to the store if I wanted beer later in the trip. It was, after all, our last chance to get much of anything for the next four days. On the way out we stopped at Green River, mostly to top-off the gas tank of the modified Ford pickup. This was a short drive from Moab, but it was the last chance for gas. Then it was off to Horseshoe Canyon.

Horseshoe Canyon lies North of the Maze District, and is a relatively small area of Canyonlands NP. According to the NPS website, it boasts "...some of the most significant rock art in North America". Although it's quite remote, we encountered several groups of people on the trails, and a ranger at the Great Gallery itself. Dave prepared us a small lunch at the final pictograph. He also showed us how he makes friends of desert lizards, by pouring a small trickle from his water bottle (a re-purposed orange juice container that he carried with a thin rope). Back at the car, though, we humans had a PBR. We continued our drive into The Maze District proper, through to the Hans Flat Ranger Station, and camped (I think) near North Point. Dave made us incredible dinner #1, and we drank more beer.

Into The Maze
We descended down into The Maze itself the following day. To spare the clients a gnarly 4WD road, Tagalong sends them hiking down The Golden Stairs trail, while the driver meets them when they arrive at the trail's end. I opted to take the road with Dave, to evaluate the road. Did I mention that it was gnarly? We got high-centered once, requiring the use of a jack and the addition of several minutes to our travel time.

Near Teapot Rock, we encountered a small caravan of well-equipped Jeeps. As the lead vehicle passed, I peered in . . .and glimpsed an array of flickering communications and GPS-enabled electronics feeding a real-time display on a laptop, all built into some sort of shelf on the passenger side, bolted down for the road. My envy was instantaneous: Their leader had taken two of my favorite things – High Tech and The Maze – and then pitted them against each other. How brash! This dude was cool.

I became embarrassed as each and every member of the Jeep procession popped around the corner to witness our Tagalong-emblazoned vehicle. Dave, Maze veteran that he is, was able to deflect the unspoken derision, but I had to endure their knowing gaze. Everyone was aware that I was the most pathetic species – a client. Fine! I knew my own Jeep wasn't going to cut it in The Maze (and, yes, had barely made it from Denver) but then along comes this magnificent group flaunting a formidable resourcefulness and mastery over this isolated land. The event was at once insulting, traumatic – and spectacular. ¿Quién es Más Macho? We picked up the rest of our crew as promised, then headed off to our two-night camp at the Doll House (incredible dinner's #2 & $#3, and some nice breakfasts, too). And there was beer.

During our one full day at The Maze we hiked an 8-mile loop from Chimney Rock over to The Harvest panel. We quickly learned to become dependent on Dave, who had packed a nice lunch for everyone. The loop involved a walk along a spine in-between canyons, a decent down one canyon and up another, and eventually, a small climb to exit near our vehicle.

Jet Boat back to the Real World
The following day we exited the Doll House and descended the trail down to the Colorado River at Spanish Bottom, where we were picked up by Jet Boat and brought past The Confluence to Potash. A Tagalong bus brought us back to Moab in the early evening. I felt my dignity slowly returning when I picked up my repaired Jeep, and stronger still after a couple of Scorpion Ales at the Moab Brewery. Nevertheless, I continued to covet the maze-capable vehicles that were cruising Moab's main road. I had a bad case of Jeep envy, nearly buying a Rubicon at the Ford dealer there.

Next on the itinerary was the obligatory Needles portion of the trip – the geological flip-side of The Maze. I finally made it to Druid Arch, which is on-par with it's sister, Angel Arch, in nearby Salt Creek. Indeed, I had visited Angel Arch earlier in the year, so without realizing it, I had nicely bookended 2009.

Burglar Update: Curiously, a good friend who lives about four blocks away confessed that his home had subsequently been burgled, about a week after mine. We're sure its the same wanker; the characteristics were eerily similar. Since then, the burglar has been jailed, caught red-handed during his last exploit. Thanks to my web camera pictures, the Denver District Attorney will also charge him with my burglary. That's two counts of burglary, and two of theft. That, plus his prior record should put him away until about 2020.

Car update: With the exception of the Wranglers, I think Chrysler has lost it. I traded in my Grand Cherokee with 200,000 miles, and bought a Nissan Xterra.

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