Community Relations

Moab Workers Build Their Own Homes to Overcome Housing Shortage

Arroyo Crossing, Moab homes are built specifically for Grand County workers on a parcel owned by the nonprofit Moab Area Community Land Trust. 

|


Moabite Alex de Moor is working with Moab nonprofit Community Rebuilds to construct his own home in the Arroyo Crossing subdivision. [Rachel Fixsen/Utah Stories]
In the under-construction Arroyo Crossing subdivision just south of Moab, dozens of people bustle in and out of 17 houses in various phases of construction. Some are just framed skeletons, others have sheathing and metal roofing, some have straw bale walls. 

Some of the people are residents-to-be working on their own and their neighbors’ homes through sweat-equity programs offered by local housing nonprofits; some are volunteers, donating time and labor in exchange for building skills; some are professional subcontractors. They’re all working on homes built specifically for Grand County workers on a parcel owned by the nonprofit Moab Area Community Land Trust (MACLT). 

The MACLT is just one entity attempting to address the housing crisis in Moab. Housing is a problem nationwide; Moab’s housing market is under additional pressure from a thriving tourism industry that generates a glut of low-paying jobs while simultaneously increasing the profitability of overnight accommodations, incentivizing developers to focus on that sector. Many local workers share housing, sometimes in tight quarters. Some live in dilapidated or substandard homes; some live in their vehicles. Others commute to work in Moab from the closest towns: La Sal and Monticello to the south or Green River to the north. 

In Arroyo Crossing, the land is owned by the MACLT, and leased by residents who own the homes themselves. Taking the land out of the equation helps keep the costs low for buyers. To be eligible to purchase a home in the 42-acre subdivision, buyers must live and work in the county and earn between 80-120% of the area median income (AMI). There’s also an equity cap on the resale prices of the homes to help maintain affordability. Arroyo Crossing will eventually have about 300 units; a mix of single-family homes, townhomes, and apartments. MACLT Executive Director Kaitlin Myers said about 100 of them will be completed within the next couple of years. 

“Most of our lots are already reserved or are in some level of development already,” she said. That’s not surprising, considering the desperate scramble for housing in the Moab area.

Local governments are working on housing too. In 2018, Grand County rolled out its “High Density Housing Overlay” to encourage the private sector to build workforce housing. The overlay allows property owners in certain areas to apply to develop their land at a higher density than their underlying zoning dictates, provided they agree to deed-restrict 80% of the units to Grand County workers. That restriction, officials hope, will tie the home prices to local wages. 

Many HDHO units are currently in the pipeline, though developments have been delayed by permitting procedures, misunderstandings on the terms of the new policy, rising costs of construction materials, and a shortage of local construction professionals. 

Moab City requires any new overnight accommodations developments to either provide some employee housing or pay into a fund to be used for that purpose. In 2018 the city used those funds to purchase a property called Walnut Lane with plans to replace existing run-down trailers with more, and higher-quality, affordable housing. That project has been stymied by unforeseen legal issues and higher-than-expected project costs, but city officials still hope to see it through in the near future. 

At the same time local governments are trying to help ease the housing crisis, they’re grappling with concerns about overcrowded neighborhoods and abused public areas. Neighbors complain about the noise and congestion associated with “bunkhouses” where many employees of a business may live together. 

Camping—including living in a vehicle—is illegal outside of established and permitted campgrounds in Moab City and Grand County. Free camping can be found on federal public lands outside those boundaries, but it can be a long drive to and from town, and popular dispersed camping spots are overused: managers find trampled vegetation, litter, and human waste in popular camp spots. 

Some of these issues are associated with tourism. Congestion on a residential street might be due to an unlicensed overnight rental, and many users of free campsites are visitors. However, many are members of the local community and workforce who can’t find affordable, stable housing. 

Some Moabites deliberately eschew traditional housing. Sean and Nick, both in their early 20s, work for a busy gear retailer in town, and they say they enjoy living out of their vehicles. Nick has lived out of his van for about two years. He likes to be mobile and close to the outdoors. He said he missed his van after spending a short time living in an apartment with a friend. 

“I didn’t know what phase the moon was in the other day, and I kind of freaked out,” he said. He plans to stick with the van lifestyle for the foreseeable future. 

Both the city and county have considered measures that would allow people to live in RVs or vehicles in town, at least temporarily, and possibly offer amenities like restrooms and a parking area. Asked if such an option would appeal to him, Nick said he prefers to drive back and forth between work and dispersed camping areas outside of town so he can enjoy wilderness and solitude. He tries to avoid the crowds at the most popular camp spots. 

In Moab, tourism and the housing crisis are inextricable. Moab’s funky-desert-town vibe and outdoor splendor attract both more tourists and residents seeking an alternative lifestyle. Businesses struggle to find employees, while employees struggle to find housing. Residents and tourists rely on each other to fuel the economy, but at the same time vie for space both under roofs and under the stars.

RELATED CONTENT

Moab Growth Limited by Building Cost and Water Supply

Moab Housing: Luxury in Abundance but Scarcity of Affordable Housing

The Reality of Van Life in Moab, Utah

Flying for the First Time over Some of the Most Spectacular Scenery on Earth, Moab Utah

Easy Bee Farm: Growing Food on Easy Street in Moab Utah

SUBSCRIBE TO PRINT MAGAZINE

 

Subscribe to Utah Stories weekly newsletter and get our stories directly to your inbox

* indicates required



 

, ,


Join our newsletter.
Stay informed.


  • A Ski Village or a Tipping Point? Nordic Valley Expansion Divides Ogden Valley

    The project, known as Nordic Village, is expected to roll out over the next decade and represents one of the largest tourism developments in the valley’s history.


  • 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.