The Bears Ears: A Human History of America's Most Endangered Wilderness

by David Roberts

My favorite Moki Dugway saga is one Vaughn told me years ago. Long before Vaughn moved to Bluff, an old-timer named Melvin Gaines was driving his bulldozer up the switchbacks to work on the road. Mel had been part of the crew that built the Dugway, and for years thereafter he served on the highway crew. On this trip, halfway up, he came upon a woman standing next to a car parked in the middle of the road. Melvin asked her if anything was the matter. She said, “I’m too scared to drive either up or down. Could you drive my car up for me?” “Lady,” said Mel, “I’m on the job here. I’ve got work to do”—only to have the addled woman burst into tears, “Oh, all right,” he said, opening the driver-side door. “Get in.” “Oh, no,” answered the woman. “I’m too scared to ride. I’ll walk up. Just leave the keys in the car.” Exasperated, his day’s mission on back burner, Melvin steered the auto gently up the Dugway until he reached the rim of Cedar Mesa. But as he got out of the car, he realized that the seat of his trousers was soaking wet. The poor woman had been so frightened by the time she got halfway up the Dugway, she had peed her pants as she sat there awaiting a rescue.