Development Projects

Moab—500 Tourists for Every Resident

The American Dream is limited government in support of social mobility and a strong middle class, not agents out to preserve and protect property values.

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The La Salle Mountains are a backdrop to Moab
Moab and the La Salles

Moab’s Tourists

Moab, UT—Back in February, Moab’s City Council imposed a moratorium on new construction of overnight rentals. Despite room rates fetching upwards of $300 per night, the town that is home to Canyonlands and Arches National Parks wants to attempt to put the brakes on the growth they have experienced hosting nearly 3 million tourists in the town of around 5,500 residents.

With cars lined up for two miles to get into Arches National Park, most residents agree there are too many tourists. Utah’s Office of Tourism has responded by working to redirect visitors to other parks, but it’s proving difficult. Moab is just too awesome.

In September, City officials voted to extend the building moratorium indefinitely. In addition, they made short-term nightly rentals like Airbnb’s illegal. Furthermore, they decided to not use the $250,000 of Transient Room Tax (TRT) that their hotels have generated, which would normally go into more advertising. Now there is a backlash against the anti-building measures.

Moab Loves Bacon

Randy Day is a real estate agent and long-time resident of Moab. He built his own home in Moab when he was in his early twenties. He says he was able to realize social mobility due to the absence of government regulation. Day has been a developer and home builder, and he says that the City Council has made it “completely impossible to build any affordable housing due to their restrictions.” He adds that under current law, there is no path to build any affordable housing in Moab and make a profit. The current median home now sells for $500,000.

Day says that the current drainage restrictions will not allow for higher density housing, despite the Council saying they “want more affordable housing.” Compounding the problem for apartment developers and landlords, the town is considering deed restrictions for the amount of rent increases owners can charge and resale price increases. Day believes government intervention is not the solution but the problem.

Day offers an analogy for affordable housing: “They all love bacon (affordable housing). They say, ‘yes, we want more bacon!’ But none of them wants to raise a pig.”

Raising the pig would mean allowing for zoning changes. Day says current home construction prices are approaching $200 per square foot. The simple solution to this problem would be to either allow for prefabricated homes, which can be bought at $78 per square foot, or more trailer park zoning, or even a tiny house community. This would accommodate a path for support staff that service hotels, restaurants and touring companies to become owners rather than renters. Day adds that there is plenty of BLM land west of town that could be opened up.

Moab Main St in traffic
Moab Traffic is increasing.

Instead, Day says City Leaders want to impose a new type of tax on hotels (up to $1 million for a single project) that would impose an affordable housing fee if the hotel does not accommodate support staff housing. The impact, Day says, will greatly increase the nightly price of the hotels, and do nothing towards creating actual affordable housing.

Moab looks to Colorado

Moab’s liberal approach is taken from the playbooks of Aspen, Vail and Telluride. These Colorado resort towns realized an enormous boom in popularity and a massive increase in real estate values in the past twenty years.

To protect the real estate values of the rich, these Colorado resort towns adopted deed restrictions, heavy provisions on developers, and building regulations. Additional taxes and unwillingness to waiver on zoning laws will certainly ensure that everyone who lives in Moab will only see increases in their real estate values, but it will also ensure that there will be very little upward mobility. Moab’s “solutions” will demonstrate a clear distinction between the “haves,” who are existing homeowners, and the “have nots,” who are renters and tourism support staff, who will end up with very little chance of ever becoming homeowners.

Moab’s current mayor, Emily Niehaus, came from Community Rebuilds, a program that allowed potential homeowners to build sweat equity by building their own home and helping others do the same. Moab’s local community is one of the strongest in Utah, with nearly every popular restaurant and outfitter being owner-operated. Today, hotels and outfitting companies have gained the attention of corporate investors. The slow transition from local and homegrown to corporate and publicly traded, will ensure that Moab loses much of its local charm as Colorado’s ski towns have. If real estate prices continue to increase beyond $500K, more homes will sell to second homeowners and investors, and more locals will move out.

Welcome to Moab

This magazine has spent years writing about Moab. I have personally spent a great deal of time in Moab exploring its amazing trails and the Colorado River. We nearly bought a home there last Spring. But if Moab turns into a place like Vail, Colorado—certainly beautiful, but with very little local character or charm because of the clear and visible gap between the super rich and the support staff—that would be a sad development indeed.

The American Dream is limited government in support of social mobility and a strong middle class, not agents out to preserve and protect property values.

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  • Inside Moab’s Political Divide: Land, Tourism, and the Future of Grand County, Utah

    In the late 1950s, Edward Abbey took a job as a park ranger at Arches National Monument, just outside Moab. What he found there, and what he watched happen to it, would shape the rest of his life. Roads were being cut into the canyon country. Cars were replacing foot traffic. The National Park Service, in the name of accessibility, was engineering a kind of industrialization of the wilderness he’d come to love. Abbey wrote about it in Desert Solitaire, published in 1968, and the anger in that book wasn’t abstract. It came from watching something specific be changed by people who either didn’t understand what they had or didn’t care.

    Grand County has long been the most reliably left-leaning county in the state, a fact that puts it in sharp contrast to nearly everything around it. To understand how that happened, and where things stand now, I spoke with longtime residents and politicians who’ve watched it from the inside, people who’ve served in local government and lived through the shifts firsthand.

    Robert Greenberg.

    Bob Greenberg came from New York in 1976, took a job at the community mental health center, and never left. He went on to chair the Grand County Democratic Party and serve on the county council. When he arrived, he said, “the Democratic Party was said to be able to meet in a phone booth” — and even then, its members were a contradictory bunch. Yellow Dog Democrats from the oil patch were fiscally conservative but surprisingly open socially, allowing different demographics to feel safe moving to the county. 

    “The town fathers were desperate to have new people come to town,” Greenberg recalls. “They just didn’t want the people who actually showed up. They wanted some other people.”

    What followed was a demographic shift nobody planned. The people who filled the gap left by the bust were river guides, federal agency workers, artists, and eventually waves of outdoor recreationists discovering that southeastern Utah was among the most spectacular landscapes on earth. Tourism ended up being the only economic development avenue that actually worked. Manufacturing never had the labor force or market access, sewing factories came and went. The people the tourist economy attracted tended to be younger, more outdoor-oriented, and more liberal.

    Kevin Walker.

    Kevin Walker, a former Grand County commissioner who moved here in 1990 for the landscape, puts the county’s diversity in context. “Moab [is] a pretty diverse place since, I think, at least the 1950s with the uranium mining boom,” he says. “So it’s not a typical Southern Utah town.” 

    Part of what makes Grand County distinct is self-reinforcing. Federal agencies like the Park Service, the Forest Service, the BLM, have large presences here and pull in a different demographic than surrounding counties. People looking to live in Southern Utah with certain values gravitate toward the place where those values already have a foothold. Over time, that critical mass has made Grand County what it is politically, while neighboring counties went in very different directions.

    The defining conflict in Grand County has always been over land.

    In the 1970s and 80s, it was extraction versus preservation in the starkest terms. County commissioners floated toxic waste incinerators. A plan emerged to site a high-level nuclear waste repository at the entrance to Canyonlands National Park. 

    “It really, really galvanized environmentalists everywhere, but particularly in Grand County,” Greenberg says. Activists put up signs at the park entrance, watched them get chainsawed down, and came back with steel reinforcement. That stubborn, physical, unglamorous persistence became part of the local political character.

    Continue reading and support independent Utah journalism with a purchase of Utah Stories (Digital + Print) or 3 month free trial (Digital).


  • Ogden Utah: Boomtown, Bargain, or Utah’s Next Unaffordable City?

    With its reinvigorated downtown and close proximity to mountains and river pathways, this northern Utah city is enjoying a renaissance. Ogden’s stock of affordable housing — compared to other metros along the Wasatch Front — currently draws people in for a closer look. 


  • The End of an Era? FanX and the Salt Palace Closure

    For more than a decade, FanX has called the Salt Palace home. With the convention center set to close for a massive renovation, founder Dan Farr is preparing for a new chapter while planning one final celebration in its longtime venue.


  • The Stratos Project and Corporate Power: Who Controls Utah’s Future?

    If we were all just consumers, Governor Cox, Mike Lee, Speaker Schultz, and Kevin O’Leary would have it easy. If we were just more concerned about money, jobs, and tech, and less concerned about raising our kids in communities (not in front of screens), culture, the environment, and water, those smart dudes would get exactly what they want — Stratos: a city of the future, buzzing with processors and transistors, making all of our AI dreams come true! 

    The world we could live in would be a dazzling, Mr. Wonderful kind of place. We would beat those pesky Chinese in the AI war; our AI robots could do all of our farming and ostensibly harvest the water we need for the Great Salt Lake out of thin air. But apparently, we just don’t get it. We haven’t yet reached the point predicted by Aldous Huxley’s vision in Brave New World, where we are completely distracted, dopamine-driven consumers who only need sex, drugs, and stuff to remain happy.

    Maybe Stratos will be an amazing marvel, and somehow, as Governor Cox claims, “. . . add more water to the Great Salt Lake.” But we aren’t sold. While this Stratos project has received considerable attention, it’s worth taking a step back to attempt to understand how corporate power appears to have usurped civic power.

    Civics is the practice of shaping our society through our collective voices and community involvement. Ask the residents in Tremonton, Utah how well that is working out for them. Can we still shape our world through our elected leaders? Does it matter who we vote for at the ballot box if organizations like UDOT, UTA, and MIDA can supersede our local government authority and citizen backlash? 

    The corporatization of our communities and the interests that impact our political leaders’ decision making processes are seen as far more of a concern than the average Utah resident’s concerns. Special interests and corporate power are shaping Utah’s future more than ever. 

    It’s worth asking: ‘How can we regain control over shaping Utah’s future in light of the growing power and billions that the technocrats now wield in shaping our world today?’ Amazon’s market cap exceeds the GDP of Canada. The “Magnificent Seven” tech stocks now have a greater market cap than the entire GDP of Europe ($23.6 trillion. EU countries have $19.3 trillion GDP). Will tech companies become their own nation-states and dominate their own chunks of various states? Will we become their subjects?

    There are two sides to this coin: We love Utah not just because we have the most outdoor wilderness playgrounds, but also because of Utah’s prosperity and job market. This is because Utah has become a tech hub. Our tech leadership has minted several billionaires and billion-dollar businesses. Utah offers a market and an educated workforce that more businesses and giant corporations want to be a part of. This is a benefit for even non-tech Utahns.

    The problem with this success is that as we dole out more money to attract more tech businesses, data centers, fulfillment centers, and big corporate retailers, it becomes more difficult to carve out our “sense of community.” As corporate sovereignty replaces local business sovereignty, we see that our voices and our votes matter less.

    Ask who our politicians work for, and nearly every Utahn believes they work far more for their corporate donors than they work for the average Utah citizen. So how do we best regain control over our communities?

    Continue reading and support independent Utah journalism with a purchase of Utah Stories (Digital + Print) or 3 month free trial (Digital).