With clouds stacking beautifully over the desert, I grabbed Rhonda (don’t worry, I’m licensed for that) and we set out for Dead Horse Point State Park. The scene was flawless, the views unforgettable - until the day took a very unexpected turn when I realized that…
My coffee brewer is stalking me!
I’m considering filing a restraining order against my coffee brewer. It’s stalking me - even out among the rugged canyon country surrounding Moab.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love coffee. For years I would use a French press for the brew, grinding my own beans and steeping them long before Gen Z and Millennials made “third-wave coffee” a lifestyle brand. Back then, nobody was Instagramming their mugs or calling themselves “coffee purists.” We just brewed it strong, drank it hot, and didn’t pay six bucks for the privilege.
When I was working, though, my French press wasn’t practical. Half my coffee usually got cold on my desk while I ran off to meetings. Then along came Keurig. With the right pod, the coffee was decent enough - and it was undeniably convenient.
Now that I’m retired, convenience still wins. So when my old brewer died, I upgraded to the latest, greatest model. That’s when things got… weird.
My shiny new brewer connects to the internet. Supposedly it scans each pod and calculates the “optimal brew cycle.” Cute idea. But let’s be real: it’s mostly phoning home to Keurig headquarters, reporting my drinking habits to help with marketing strategies. The kicker? If you keep your brewer online and let it connect frequently, you get an extra year on the warranty. Since this is my third machine (and they’re not cheap), I caved. After all, I already have my light bulbs on Wi-Fi - why not my coffee pot?
That’s when the harassment began.
First, I got notifications about k-pod sales. Fine, I like bargains. Then came recipes using the exact pods I had brewed earlier that day. Next: alerts timed to my morning shower, suggesting “the perfect cup to start my day.” Eventually it started tailoring recommendations to my lifestyle, as I was living it.
Saturday, as I stood at Dead Horse Point gazing into a thousand-foot abyss of sculpted red rock, my phone buzzed. My brewer wanted me to know that my “buy two, get one free” k-pod deal was about to expire. At the very edge of one of the grandest views in America, my coffee maker was nagging me about caffeine pods.
For one insane second, I almost ordered them. Then I remembered: I’m not going to be bullied by my own appliances.
Hearing a group of French tourists nearby made me nostalgic for my trusty old French press. I carried one on backpacking trips years ago - it never once sent me push notifications. It brewed, it stayed quiet, and it let me enjoy canyon country in peace.
The moral? Some will say it’s “disconnect when you’re outdoors,” but that feels too obvious, and I don’t necessarily agree with it. I think it’s simpler: bullying is bullying. Don’t put up with it - even from your coffee brewer.
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La Sal Mountains |
Photography Notes
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, clouds are everything out here. After a
quick check of local webcams, clouds were seen building over the La Sal Mountains on the Island in the Sky webcam at Canyonlands National Park. If you land in Moab under a monotonous blue sky, skip Canyonlands and Dead Horse Point between an hour after sunrise and an hour before sunset - the light is harsh, the shadows nonexistent, and the overlooks lose their drama. Instead, head to
Arches or cruise the Colorado River gorge, where the scenery delivers even without an interesting sky.
When clouds do roll in, that’s your green light for Canyonlands or Dead Horse Point. Clouds add layers, texture, and mood all day long, but they also trip up cameras and phones. The deep reds, heavy shadows, and bright skies can fool with your exposure, often blowing out the clouds. My trick: lock exposure on the clouds first, then reframe your shot. The shadows may look dark, but shooting in RAW on your DSLR or mirrorless camera will easily preserve the details. On a smartphone, dial exposure compensation down about ⅓ to ⅔ of a stop to keep detail in those skies.
And one last note: I poked fun at smartphones earlier, but don’t leave yours behind. They’re invaluable for navigation and emergencies, even if service is spotty. The new emergency satellite features can be lifesavers. Just don’t rely on them completely. Accidents do happen though - in fact, I was once nearly taken out by an ant, but that’s another story.
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The classic view of Dead Horse Point. The best lighting for this particular view is at sunrise, with sunset running a close second. However, clouds can add depth during midday light.
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A Note on the Potash Evaporation Ponds
You may have noticed the bright white-and-blue shapes in some of my photos from Dead Horse Point. These are
potash evaporation ponds, and they stand out sharply against the red rock desert surrounding them. The ponds are part of a system used to extract potash, a key ingredient in fertilizer. Water is pumped from the Colorado River, mixed with underground potash deposits, and then channeled into these shallow pools. Under the desert sun, the water evaporates, leaving behind the mineral. To speed the process, a blue dye is added, which makes the ponds appear even more vivid against the desert landscape.
To some visitors, these ponds feel like a scar on the land. But when you step back and take in the sweeping panorama from Dead Horse Point - thousands of square miles of untouched desert stretching in every direction - the ponds seem like a tiny blemish in an otherwise vast and wild scene. Utah is filled with immense open spaces, and while the idea of a perfectly pristine landscape is appealing, it’s also unrealistic.
This perspective reminds me of my childhood near Niagara Falls, another one of America’s great natural wonders. I visited often growing up, and even now, every return trip home includes at least one stop at the falls. No matter how many times I see them, that first glimpse still gives me goosebumps. And yet, if you’ve been there, you know the surrounding views include hotels, observation towers, boat docks, and plenty of development. Does any of it diminish the power and grandeur of the falls themselves? Not at all.
We live in a modern world, shaped by industry and technology, and the truth is, much of our comfort depends on it. What strikes me at Dead Horse Point is not the presence of the evaporation ponds, but how little human development you can see otherwise. To me, the ponds don’t detract from the view - they only highlight how extraordinary it is that so much of this land remains untouched.
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Colorado River |
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No coffee brewers were hurt during our visit to Dead Horse Point State Park. |
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