Moab

Gentrification of Moab — Will Growing Pains Make or Break Moab?

Moab is experiencing major growing pains, and the local frustration palpable across this little, big town, and one of the bigger topics causing disruption, is the construction site of Wyndham Destinations. This property promises to be a great development for Grand County and the City of Moab, as some people feel it brings promise to…

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Moab Overlook courtesy of Discover Moab

There are moments in life that are full of bliss, like when you can sit on a warm red rock that has been saturated with radiant heat from a star nine million miles away. The experience connects you to the Universe, and as you fall further into the peace, you soon realize that all you can hear is the sound of the wind blowing through the canyons, and in the distance you hear crows cackling at the pure joy of catching a warm updraft on a perfect March afternoon. This is Moab “off-season”, and it is pure ecstasy, right up to the point when you think about the upcoming season, and, Bam! Moment lost. 

Moab is experiencing major growing pains, and the local frustration palpable across this little, big town, and one of the bigger topics causing disruption, is the construction site of Wyndham Destinations. This property promises to be a great development for Grand County and the City of Moab, as some people feel it brings promise to the tourism giant that Moab has become.  

Planned development in Moab courtesy of Wyndham Destinations

The public relations department of Wyndham Destinations stated, “The company’s commitment to being a great neighbor was thoughtfully applied through our design of the building. We believe the resort’s design is in character with the nearby businesses and the natural landscape. The extra consumer spending creates jobs in local economies. As a result of this new development, 70 permanent jobs with competitive pay and benefits will be available after the resort opens. We think this new property will enhance life in Moab for the community and visitors alike, and we’re excited to open later this year.”

The majority of local residents have their doubts about what the development will do for locals, because oftentimes they are left struggling to pay higher property taxes, suffer extreme shortages of affordable housing, endure high vehicle traffic and a constant buzz from UTV’s during the on-season. Many feel that this development will only further the overburdening of infrastructure systems like water and sewer, not to mention more of an inequality gap between the haves and the have-nots. 

Yes, this will bring jobs, but local businesses are already scrambling to find employees for all the tourist industry jobs this season. Every season sees a flood of open jobs with limited responses to fill them. The high cost of living, lack of affordable housing, and seasonal jobs are notorious for not being affordable, and only pay around minimum wage. There are approximately 5,500 residents that call Moab home, and Moab hosts millions of visitors annually. The math figures out to be about one resident to 500 tourists per year. 

Local John Binger commented, “I think things need to slow down across the board. Every aspect is moving too fast for a town this size. More planning. More consideration for everyone.”

Local residents comment on the “no left turn” season, overworked public safety departments, including Grand County Search and Rescue, which is the busiest in the state of Utah. A large number of residents have commented on social media pages that if the TRT rates could be audited differently, maybe more tax dollars could be spent on vital areas like infrastructure, but monies go back into tourism spending. 

When asked if the flavor of Moab will change with this new development, local resident Kerry Soliz said plainly, “Moab has sold its soul.” Frustrated, she continued. “Sincerely, it was sold long ago. Residents come second here. Visitors come first, it seems to me.” 

Construction is now a common sight in Moab.

Local resident and business owner, Sarah Barstow, recently wrote an opinion story in one of Moab’s news publications, that she contemplated writing a “Dear John” letter to Moab. “Dear Moab, I’m sorry, but it’s not me, it’s you.” She goes on to explain that although she is disenchanted with Moab, she still wants the “relationship” to work because she still sees the good in Moab, especially the people who live and work in Moab year-round. 

Barstow reinforced that long-time visitors have expressed their frustration with her about the over-development of Moab. “I can’t tell you how many tourists have apologized to me this year, saying, ‘Wow. What has happened to Moab?’ ‘Are you okay?’ They ask it as if I’ve suffered a loss. And in a way, I have. We all have.”  

Long time visitors have told her that they will only come in the off-season, and a lot of locals won’t come to town as much during the on-season. 

Moab has gone through a lot of extremes in its lifetime, from its infancy, beginning with the Native American tribes, the Spanish invasion, the occupation of Mormon settlers, the uranium boom and its subsequent bust, to its current status as a major world destination, and there are going to be moments of disorientation from rapid growth. Change is the only thing constant in our world, and learning to adjust is most likely the only solution to Moab’s newest development.

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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).