No photos this time! Just observations.
Moab is the town nearest the entrances to Arches and Canyonlands. It is full of three kinds of things: hippies, Germans with funny pants, and people who take decorating with Kokopelli seriously. Ach, this Kokopelli. I used to work with this really hateful woman (Suzy and Chris, it's Kelly) who got a tattoo of Kokopelli on her ankle. When I saw it, I said SARCASTICALLY "hey, where'd you get that idea?" and she said "oooo DG, the image came to me in a dream. I got up and drew it; it's my own design." And I said, "really? Because I think you can buy a leather sofa embossed with that very same image from the Sundance catalog..." and then for months I tortured her by digging up other versions of her "original" design, all of them identical to the tiny smudge on her ankle. I even started calling her Koko for a little while but it didn't stick. I don't know who she was trying to fool. I mean, it was like me getting a cross tattooed on me and saying "I had this dream about a telephone pole...."
ANYWAY. Moab is full of those Kokopelli people. The same way Sedona, Arizona is, though it's maybe less New Age-y and more mountain bike-y. There are no fat people here, even though I know for a fact that you can get a stack of Kokopancakes.
Moab is also the home of Negro Bill Canyon, which I hiked a little bit of late this afternoon. Not much, just enough so I could say "Negro Bill" in conversation just to see what people do. NEGRO BILL NEGRO BILL NEGRO BILL. I HIKED it so I can SAY it.