Not for the faint of heart.  6425 feet above sea level dropping 1100 feet in under 3 miles on hairpin curves at a 10% grade.  Did I mention gravel road, barely 2 lanes wide and NO guardrails. 

Your worst fear is that a motorhome is coming at you from the other direction.

This was the year we discovered Hwy 261 by fluke.

We left Moab, travelling south on Hwy 191 and stopped at a sub shop in Blanding.  We got takeout, with the intention of finding a relaxing picnic spot.  We were a couple of miles past a junction for Hwy 95 west, when I glanced at the map and noticed that Hwy 95 connected to another road which would take us to the west entrance of Valley of the Gods, and eventually onto Hwy 163.  An unexplored road left us no choice but to backtrack and head west. We found a nice area and stopped for our picnic, before turning south onto the infamous Hwy 261

Except for a couple of road signs saying tractor trailers and motorhomes are not recommended, this simple paved road gave little clue as to what might lie ahead. 

It is a long, subtle climb on a flat plateau and slowly you realize the trees are now shrubs, the sky is within reach and it feels like you're at the top of the world.  At about that time the signage was every hundred feet and the sense of misgiving suddenly hit us.  "What were we getting into - again".   Bravehearts that we are, we continued to the top of the plateau, where the world suddenly opened up below us. 

This was called the Mokee Dugway and is a trail originally carved by the ancients.  It goes from the top of Cedar Mesa butte and winds back and forth, crisscrossing the face of the rocks to the bottom. 

Modern man has expanded the road, and carved deeper into the rocks to accommodate automotive travel, but the thrill is still there - especially, when one has a fear of heights. 

1100 ft drop less than 4 ft from the side of the car, no guard rails and a small pile of gravel between you and the pearly gates does not give you a sense of security.

We reached Valley of the Gods from the west side, but didn't have time do the whole route.  So we only drove in a short way, turned around and headed for the base of Hwy 261.

This year, we had made sure our travels brought us to the bottom of Hwy 261 so we could drive "up" it.   It was just as much a thrill as the drive down - except the "straight down 1100 foot cliff" was now on Doreen's side of the car.  Thanks goodness, we were hugging the mountain side.  The expression on her face was priceless and I'm sure she was grateful she had a change of underwear in her suitcase.  (that would be that fear of heights thing again)

At the top, we met a group of five touring bikers and stopped to chat for a few minutes.  They were businessmen on a road trip - not unlike us.  So we took pictures of the group with their cameras and forgot to take one with our own camera.  Bidding them farewell and safe journey, we continued north to Hwy 95, then east back onto Hwy 191 north to Moab.

State Route 261 is located entirely within south-central San Juan County, Utah. It runs 34 miles north, from the junction of U.S. Route 163 three-miles north of Mexican Hat, to the junction with State Route 95, just east of Natural Bridges National Monument.

The highway is part of the Utah section of the Trail of the Ancients, a National Scenic Byway. It includes steep switchbacks as it traverses the Moki Dugway.

It wasn't quite dark, so we decided play around on Hwy 261 before stopping in Bluff;  but, true to form, we found somewhere else to explore.  After driving up and down Hwy 261, we went up again because I wanted to investigate a road we'd been ignoring for several years.  The road is called Muley Point Road and I'm sure it is aptly named.  Definitely fit for mules.  Oh My Gawd.

After all our messing around, it was dark when we got to Bluff and "no room at the inn"  EXCEPT for the "honeymoon cabin". They gave us the regular cabin rate but just a small problem........only one king bed.   Desert Rose Inn - Bluff, UT

With hesitation, we accepted the room and I proceeded to hunt for a board full of nails to put in middle of bed.  The room was absolutely beautiful and it is a shame to waste it on honeymooners who don't pay attention to it anyway.

We spent some relaxing time outside our cabin on the swing, enjoying the night, then finally relented and headed to our shared bed. Well, Doreen fell asleep immediately, snoring like a freight train.  It was vibrating right through the bed.  About 2:30 AM I finally gave up, grabbed a pillow and curled up on the loveseat.  When she woke up, she wanted to know how I could sleep beside Steve (who's a snorer) and not her.  My response "Because I can hit him when I need him to turn over."    I don't think it was the noise as much as the vibrations but in any case, it was not a restful night.

We checked out, did a small tour of Bluff, visited the Historic Fort and then headed to the our favourite shopping/eating spot, Twin Rocks Cafe for our annual breakfast and shopping spree.  They have a unique gift shop and art gallery. Twin Rocks Cafe - Bluff

We were off to climb Hwy 261 one more time before heading north to Hwy 95.

Traveling this road has become a focal point in all our trips.  We have somehow managed to include the area touring from both east and west coasts.  I think we've secretly claimed Hwy 261 as our own personal road.  I'm sure the state of Utah would like their taxes but they'll have to catch us first.

I absolutely love the signs here.  The spelling of Mokee Dugway (Moki Dugway) changes from the top of the butte to the bottom.  It says not recommended for trucks over 10,000 lbs. and the next sign shows a tractor trailer going down the hill.  It also says not recommended for RV's and we've seen several trying to round those curves.  The drivers either can't read or think the 30 ft. beast they're in is called a minivan.  Backing up is sometimes the only option - such as in the picture below.

I wish there was a way to put a feeling into a photograph!!  Highway 261 is definitely a "feeling".  No matter how often I describe it, I'll never convey the emotion or the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you crest the hill and you see what's in front of you.