Dead Horse Point State Park

Listen first. Up here on the rim, the loudest sound is usually the wind moving through the junipers. Sometimes a raven calls. Under your boots the ground is pale, gritty sandstone. It is warm in the afternoon and cool at dawn. Then you reach the edge, and the land simply stops. Far below, the Colorado River turns in a slow, deep loop, the colour of milky tea or jade, depending on the season.

Welcome to Dead Horse Point State Park, in the high desert of southeastern Utah, a short drive from the town of Moab. You are standing on a narrow finger of mesa. A mesa is a flat-topped piece of high ground with steep sides. The overlook sits roughly two thousand feet above the river. On a clear day the view runs for many miles, across canyons, buttes and towers, toward snow-capped peaks on the horizon.

Look at the river directly below. It does not run straight. It bends back on itself in a curve that almost closes into a circle. Geologists call this kind of curve a gooseneck. Long ago, the river wandered across a flatter landscape. As the land slowly rose, the water kept its looping path and cut straight down into the rock. The curve you see now is an old river shape, sunk deep into stone.

Now the name. It is not a happy one, and it comes from a story, not a written record. Legend has it that cowboys in the nineteenth century used this point as a natural corral for wild mustangs. The neck of land that leads onto the point is very narrow. A short fence of branches across that neck could trap a whole herd.

According to the popular tale, the riders chose the horses they wanted and left the rest behind the fence. Some say the gate was left closed by mistake. The trapped horses could see the river far below, but they could not reach it. They died of thirst within sight of water. No one can confirm the details today. But the story stayed, and so did the name.

Here is something many visitors miss. When you drove in, you crossed that narrow neck yourself. Watch for it on the way out. The road and the land squeeze together, with drops on both sides. In that moment the old corral story becomes easy to picture. The geography matches the legend, even if the legend cannot be proven.

Turn back to the canyon walls and read them like the pages of a book. The rock forms in layers, each one a different colour and texture. The tall, reddish cliffs near the top are hard sandstone that breaks off in sheer faces. Lower down, softer layers form slopes and ledges. Each band formed in a different ancient world. Some came from wind-blown dunes. Others came from rivers, mudflats and shallow seas, over hundreds of millions of years.

Find the pale ledge that runs like a shelf partway down, above the river. That is the White Rim, a band of light sandstone that wraps around much of this canyon country. A rough dirt road follows it for a long way. From up here, any vehicles on it look like tiny moving dots. Bring binoculars if you have them. The scale of the view becomes clearer when you find something human inside it.

Now look to the southwest. You may see patches of an unlikely, bright blue, sitting in the red desert. Many visitors assume they are lakes. They are not. They are evaporation ponds for a potash mine. Potash is a mineral used mainly in fertiliser. Water carries it up from deep underground, and the desert sun dries it out. The blue dye helps the water absorb heat and evaporate faster.

This park sits right beside Canyonlands National Park. Its Island in the Sky district lies just next door, on the same high mesa system. Many travellers visit both in a single day. Dead Horse Point, though, has a calmer feel. The walking paths along the rim are fairly gentle. They lead to several smaller overlooks, each with a slightly different angle on the canyon and the river bend.

You may also recognise this kind of view from the cinema. Directors have used the rim country around here many times for its open, dramatic horizons. The closing scene of the 1991 film Thelma and Louise was shot in this area, where the two women drive toward the canyon edge. The landscape plays a character in those films. Standing here in person, it is easy to understand why.

Stay after sunset if you can. The park is recognised as an International Dark Sky Park. That means it works to protect the night from artificial light. On a moonless night the Milky Way stretches across the sky in a pale band. The canyon below disappears into black. The only shapes left are the rim, the stars, and the silhouettes of twisted junipers against the sky.

Those junipers are worth a closer look in daylight. Many grow low and bent, with grey, shredded bark and dead branches next to living ones. In this dry place, a tree can let part of itself die to keep the rest alive. Pinyon pines grow among them too. Small lizards move fast across warm rock. Walk carefully, and stay on the paths. The dark, crusty soil between plants is alive and easily crushed.

Before you leave, stand still at the rail for one more minute. Follow the river around its long curve with your eyes. Notice how the light changes the colours on the cliffs as clouds pass. Listen again for the wind and the ravens. As you walk back toward the car, the ground narrows. You cross the neck of land once more, and the old corral story stays behind you on the point.