![]() Its parking lot was full of pickups from the road maintenance crews who would also be spending the night there with us. ![]() ![]() Finally we spotted our lighted motel at the far end of town. Even ghost towns looked more vibrant than this gauntlet of boarded-up gas stations, shops and motels. Folks here voted for Trump because they hoped he could might restore them to life. If Springdale was a tourist trap for people with too much money, we found Green River, UT to be an abandoned outpost wishing desperately to bring the tourists back. Our next stop was picked out on the map because it was on the way to Arches National Park. Our hotel’s panoramic views of the raspberry-colored Zion rock formations probably justified its exorbitant price, but the whole self-satisfied smugness of the town encouraged us to move on. The brain-dead hostess at the crowded Spotted Dog Café unforgivably gave up our table while we were waiting for over an hour at the bar. Zion’s gateway town of Springdale, UT was full of tourists willing to spend too much money, spoiling the local folk to a lifestyle that did not favor customer service.
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