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Show THE ZEPHYR/JUNE-JULY 2008 TEE CANYON COUNTRY At Dewey Bridge, 2003 — in recorded history. With a can of flaming Sterno on the floorboard of my VW Squareback (the damn heater never worked), VE elk I stopped only long enough to gas up and then drove all the way to Grand Junction, where I used my dad’s Gulf Oil credit card for a warm bedsat the Holiday Inn. But I’d seen enough of this country to plan a return visit under better conditions. I'd hoped to leave in July for SE Utah, but my parents had booked a raft trip down the Col- PO BOX 327. MOAB, UTAH 84532 JIM STILES, PUBLISHER i www. orado River through the Grand Canyon with their friends, Bill and Vera Parker, and they asked me if I’d stay at their farm and keep an eye on the place. In exchange, they offered to help me out with gas money when I came West in hur.com Te com moabzephyr@yahoo.com . August. TAKE IT or LEAVE IT By Jim Stiles CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Ken Sleight Martin Murie Ned Mudd Allan Greenwood THE ARTIST John Depuy DEWEY BRIDGE: IN MEMORIAM The death of old Dewey Bridge last month, burned to death by a seven year old playing with matches, was almost more bad news than I could bear to hear. As one relic after another of the rural West's past vanishes, this was one remnant I thought would survive. It was just a few years HISTORIC PHOTOGRAPHS Herb Ringer (1913-1998) ZEPHYR the highlight of their trip, it seemed, had been a 50 mile ed “highway,” designated State Route 128. And they told The death of old Dewey Bridge last month, burned to death by a seven year old playing with matches, was almost more bad news than I could bear to hear. As one relic after another of the rural West’s past vanishes, this was one remnant I thought would survive. PILOT & AERIAL RECONNAISSANCE Paul Swanstrom ZEPHYR When they arrived home, I was eager to hear of their adventures on the river, and they had plenty to tell. But drive down a Utah back road, a dusty unpaved, corrugat- me of a one-lane suspension bridge, Dewey Bridge, that crossed the river 30 miles upstream from Moab. Bill Parker was the kind of guy who'd turn down a dirt road in a Buick and never wonder if he needed high clearance or 4 wheel drive. When they exited I-70 in the middle of the Cisco desert and the pavement ended and it looked as if the route was descending into the dusty bowels of a TRANSPORTATION FLEET SPECIALISTS Gene Schafer Tom Wesson WEBMASTER Gary Henderson spankme2times@excite.com " SUBSCRIPTIONS very deep canyon, my parents thought he was crazy. But Bill’s joyful enthusiasm and love for the canyon country was infectious. They found Dewey Bridge, tucked away safely from most of the world since 1916, paused briefly to admire the bridge and the canyon, and. reached Moab by afternoon. Weeks later, when they came home to the farm, and my dog Muckluk and I prepared to leave, my mom gave me very careful directions—it was the first exit to Cisco, not the second, she insisted. Look for the dirt road on the left, & TRANSCRIPTIONS _ Linda Vaughan CIRCULATION Lance Lawrence Jose Churampi THE ZEPHYR, copyright 2008 My first picture of Dewey Bridge, 1973 a couple miles west of the town. I followed her directions and, incredibly, they were accurate (my mother has never been known for her navigational skills). We passed through Cisco—there was one café still open then, Ethel’s I later learned, but didn’t stop. The Zephyr is published six times a year at Moab, Utah. The opinions expressed herein _are not necessarily those of its vendors, advertisers, ot even at times, of its publisher. All photographs and cartoons are by the publisher, unless otherwise noted. ~ Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: you find the present tense, but the past perfect! ~Owens Lee Pomeroy ago that Jennifer Speers, the millionaire with a soul, bought up the adjacent Dewy Bridge subdivision from a developer, plowed under the roads, dismantled the infrastructure and tore down a $600,000 home in order to restore the area to the way it had been. It was a rare place of Hope. Now this. The fire triggered memories of my first visit to Dewey, more than 30 years ago §0. Construction begins on the new bridge, October 1985 my mother. In 1973, I was still living in Kentucky, trying to scrape together enough money to come West again, if only for a month or so. The previous winter, I'd passed Just as my ma had predicted, I spotted the gravel and dirt road, Utah 128, and turned left toward the river. I saw no one. Not a car or motorhome. No trucks or RVs. No ATVs. Nothing. We came to the river, my dog and I, and figured the bridge was just ahead, but it was late afternoon, so I pulled into a stand of cottonwoods to make a camp. I pitched my cheap little blue nylon tent, fed Muck, cooked some beans on my Coleman stove and walked over to the Colorado to eat. The river was low, but the current was swift. I saw a through Moab for the first time, on one of the coldest days Great Blue Heron, heard other birds whose songs I could I first heard about Dewey Bridge, believe it or not, from 2 |
