Grandstaff Canyon Grit Hike: The Long Obedience That Builds Morning Glory

Moab Grit Hikes Series — Final Chapter | Deer Creek Retreat, Old La Sal, Utah

The Trail That Finishes What the Series Started

By now, if you're following the path of the grit hikes in Moab. You have climbed scree fields. You have scrambled narrow ridgelines. You have stood on summits above 12,000 feet with your lungs burning and your legs asking serious questions about your life choices. You have hiked above the Colorado River and looked down at a world that most Moab visitors only see through a car window.

This is the last hike in the series — and it is different from every other one.

The Grandstaff Canyon Trail does not ask for your fastest pace or your strongest legs. It does not threaten you with altitude sickness or afternoon lightning. It asks for something quieter, and in many ways harder: sustained attention. The willingness to keep moving through a canyon that reveals itself slowly, creek crossing by creek crossing, sandstone wall by sandstone wall, until the canyon opens into one of the most breathtaking natural formations in the American Southwest — Morning Glory Natural Bridge, a 243-foot span of ancient red rock, the sixth-longest natural rock bridge in the United States.

That bridge was not formed in a dramatic moment. No single storm carved it. No earthquake split it open. It was made by water — persistent, patient, unremarkable water — flowing beneath the same fin of Navajo sandstone over and over again, year after year, until the rock gave way. The bridge is grit made geological. It is what happens when something keeps showing up long after the dramatic moments have passed.

Angela Duckworth would recognize it immediately.

Deliberate Practice: The Quiet Engine Behind the Bridge

In her chapters on deliberate practice, Dr. Duckworth makes a distinction that most people miss: there is a difference between practicing and practicing deliberately (Duckworth, Ch. 6). The swimmer who logs laps while daydreaming is not building the same thing as the swimmer who targets a specific weakness on every length. The hours look identical from the outside. The results diverge dramatically over time.

Morning Glory Natural Bridge is the product of deliberate practice at geological scale. The water did not simply run; it carved. It found the fault line in the rock, returned to it relentlessly, and worked that specific weakness until something extraordinary emerged. That is Duckworth's model in sandstone — targeted, persistent effort directed at a specific point, sustained long past the moment when results are visible.

Carol Dweck in here book, Mindset: The new psychology of success, reinforces why this matters: "The passion for stretching yourself and sticking to it, even (or especially) when it's not going well, is the hallmark of the growth mindset. This is the mindset that allows people to thrive during some of the most challenging times in their lives" (Dweck 117). The creek in Grandstaff Canyon did not quit when the rock didn't remove fast enough. It kept stretching, kept returning, kept applying pressure in the same direction. That is the growth mindset in its most literal form — patient, targeted, and unwilling to accept the present shape of things as permanent.

For the hiker who has made it through this entire series — who climbed Mount Peale and earned the Moab Rim crisp air and stood on the narrow summit of Mount Tuk to take in the overwhelming view— this trail is the invitation to consider not just the effort you have put in this week, but the long-haul effort you are building toward in your everyday life. The Grandstaff Canyon grit hike is not just a trail. It is a closing question: what are you working on, with that same patient, deliberate persistence, that will one day become something as breathtaking as this bridge?

Getting There from Deer Creek Retreat

From Deer Creek Road in Old La Sal, Grandstaff Canyon is approximately a 50–55 minute drive — a scenic journey that winds down from the La Sal Mountains into the Colorado River corridor.

1. Head west on Deer Creek Road toward UT-46, take the natural left toward the highway

2. Then take a right onto UT-46, over the ridge down the windy road through new La Sal and on the highway about 8 miles to US-191

3. Turn right onto US-191 North toward Moab

4. Drive through town — stop for a Mcbreakfast or Starbucks at City Market, if the morning allows it

5. Just before the Colorado River bridge on the north end of Moab, turn right onto UT-128 (the Colorado River Scenic Byway)

6. Drive approximately 3 miles east along the river — the signed Grandstaff Canyon Trailhead parking lot will appear on your right

7. One restroom is available at the trailhead

Arrive before 10:00 AM on weekends and peak summer months — the parking lot fills quickly and overflow is limited. There is no fee to hike this trail.

Trail Stats:

Stat	Detail
Distance	~4.5 miles round-trip
Elevation Gain	300–383 feet
Stream Crossings	Approximately 10
Difficulty	Easy to Moderate
Destination	Morning Glory Natural Bridge — 243 feet, 6th longest natural rock span in the U.S.
Designated	National Recreation Trail, October 2020

What the Grandstaff Canyon Grit Hike Feels Like

From the parking area, the trail drops down and begins following a stream that flows year-round on the left side — a riparian world that feels impossibly lush for Moab's desert context. Cottonwood trees and willows line the banks. The sound of moving water echoes off canyon walls made of Navajo sandstone that rise hundreds of feet on both sides. In the summer, the canyon walls provide shade in the early morning and late afternoon, making this one of the few Moab trails that is genuinely manageable even in warmer months.

The first 1.5 miles follow the stream steadily, with roughly ten crossings along the way. Most crossings have strategically placed rocks and you are unlikely to get your feet wet — but in summer, water shoes or sandals make the crossings more enjoyable. The trail widens in sections, the canyon opens and narrows, and hanging gardens appear in the alcoves — small green oases fed by seeping water that never fully dries up.

At approximately 1.7 miles, a side canyon opens on the right. The trail crosses the stream here and begins a short, steep climb into the side canyon. At 2 miles, the bridge appears for the first time. Then the canyon abruptly ends — a wall, a large pouroff, and Morning Glory Natural Bridge soaring 243 feet above you, running parallel to the canyon wall rather than spanning the canyon, formed entirely by a trickling spring that flowed beneath the rock fin for longer than any of us can meaningfully imagine.

Beneath the bridge there is a large sandy area and a waterfall at the southern end. Sit with it. Let the scale of what patience and time can produce settle over you.

One caution: poison ivy is plentiful along the trail, especially under the bridge. Stay on the trail, watch where you place your hands, and teach children to recognize the leaves-of-three before you start.

The Long Obedience: Grit's Quietest Form

This trail does not look like the other hikes in this series. There is no summit. No dramatic ridge. No moment where you look down at a vertical drop and have to decide whether to keep going. And yet Angela Duckworth would argue this trail demands the most mature form of grit — the kind that does not need drama to sustain itself.

In her research, Duckworth draws a distinction between the hiker who charges the trailhead on adrenaline and the hiker who simply shows up, steady and deliberate, every single time (Duckworth, Ch. 6). The first kind of effort is impressive in a sprint. The second kind is what builds bridges — literally and figuratively. Duckworth calls the consistent, directed version of effort deliberate practice: not just repetition, but purposeful repetition aimed at specific growth, repeated over time with full attention [Duckworth, Ch. 6].

Dr. Brené Brown speaks to what makes this kind of long, quiet effort so difficult to sustain. It is not the hard days that break most people. It is the ordinary ones — the unremarkable Tuesdays when nothing is dramatic and there is no external reward waiting and the work simply needs doing again. "Owning our story can be hard," she writes, "but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy — the experiences that make us the most vulnerable" (Brown 161). The long obedience asks you to own the whole story — including the stretches when the rock does not appear to be moving.

Ecclesiastes, in the Old Testament in the Holy Bible, names the tension plainly: "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might; for there is no work or device or knowledge or wisdom in the grave where you are going" (NKJV, Ecclesiastes 9:10). The author is not calling for frantic busyness. He is calling for full presence — bringing everything you have to the work in front of you, in the time you have been given, with the hands you actually have. That is what the water in Grandstaff Canyon does. Every single day. With its whole might.

Desert Survival on an Easy Trail (Yes, Still)

Because this trail is accessible and family-friendly, it tends to draw hikers who underestimate the desert's basic demands. The canyon walls provide shade and the stream provides psychological cooling — but the dry air, the elevation, and the summer heat are still present and still require preparation.

• Water: Carry at least 2 liters per person — more in summer. The stream water is not safe to drink without treatment

• Electrolytes: The low humidity of the canyon pulls more moisture from your body than you will feel in the shade — bring tabs or salty snacks

• Sun protection: Brimmed hat and sunscreen for the open sections near the trailhead and the side canyon climb to the bridge

• Footwear: Trail runners or light hiking shoes with grip handle the stream crossings well; water sandals are a genuine upgrade in summer

• Poison ivy awareness: Teach your group to identify it before the hike — leaves of three, shiny and serrated, especially thick under the bridge

• Timing: Spring and fall are the most comfortable seasons; summer mornings before 10:00 AM are the sweet spot

William Grandstaff and the Grit of Showing Up First

The canyon's name carries its own grit story. William Grandstaff was an African American prospector who settled in the Moab area in 1877 — the first non-Caucasian pioneer to do so. He ranched successfully in the canyon and surrounding land in an era and region that offered him every reason not to stay. He showed up anyway. He worked the land anyway. The canyon now carries his name — not because his story was loud, but because his presence was persistent.

That is grit in its most elemental form: not the dramatic gesture, but the sustained showing-up in a place that was not built with you in mind, doing the work with everything you have, long enough for the land itself to remember you.

That is the invitation of this final trail in the series.

What This Series Has Built

You started this category standing on the porch at Deer Creek Retreat, looking up at peaks you had not yet climbed. Since then, you have gained over 10,000 feet of elevation across five hikes, navigated talus fields and slickrock ramps and scree scrambles, earned 360-degree views from multiple summits, and crossed the same Colorado River canyon from above and below.

But more than the physical miles, you have been carrying a framework with you on every trail: that grit is not a gift, it is a practice. That effort counts twice. That passion without endurance is just enthusiasm, and endurance without direction is just stubbornness — but the two together, aimed at something worthy, sustained over time, build something that outlasts any single summit day.

Duckworth closes this loop with the line that began the whole series: "Our potential is one thing. What we do with it is quite another" (Duckworth 14). Grandstaff Canyon is the trail that makes that line feel complete. The bridge at the end is potential that stands as a lesson and living example of passion and perseverance. Water that kept showing up, kept pressing at the same fault line, long after any reasonable calculation would have suggested giving up.

That is what you have been practicing all week. And the good news — the news that carries this series forward into whatever comes next — is that grit grows. The muscle you built on these trails is real, and it transfers. The next category, the next challenge, the next long-haul pursuit that calls your name will find you better equipped than when you arrived.

The bridge was not built in a week. But every crossing counts.

The Challenge: Come Back to Where Grit Grows

When you finish the Grandstaff Canyon trail and drive back up into the La Sal Mountains toward Old La Sal, watch the landscape shift. The red rock desert gives way to piñon and juniper, the world that has held you all week. The same mountain range that anchored your early morning views now wraps around the driveway at Deer Creek Road. You are home.

This is the final challenge of the Moab Grit Hikes series — and it is the simplest one: come back.

Not just to the trail. Come back to the practice. Come back to the person you were becoming on these ridges and switchbacks and stream crossings. Come back to the deliberate, patient, consistent effort that the canyon water has been modeling for you all morning.

Stay in the main house at Deer Creek Retreat and let the space hold the whole arc of what you have done this week. A full kitchen to fuel the final miles, a living room to stretch out in while the La Sals fill the window, a porch where you can look out at every peak you have stood on and trace the shape of what grit looks like when it is applied consistently over time. This is a place that rewards the long game — and so are you.

Stay in the tiny home and carry the simplicity of Grandstaff Canyon home with you. The trail asked nothing flashy of you — just steady presence, one crossing at a time, all the way to the bridge. The tiny home asks the same. Strip away the noise, move deliberately, and rest in the knowledge that the most important things you will ever build will look exactly like this: unremarkable in the moment, breathtaking in the end.

Take the Grit Scale test under "free resources" at GrittyGritGrit.com before you leave. See where you started and where you are now. Then watch this space — the conversation about grit, deliberate practice, purpose, and the long obedience is continuing in the next category. These trails were the training ground. The next chapter is where you take the muscle home.

Reserve your stay at Deer Creek Retreat — main house or tiny home — and let the canyon teach you what patient, persistent effort can build.

Cheers!

Justin

Works Cited

Brown, Brené. Rising Strong: The Reckoning. The Rumble. The Revolution. Spiegel &

Grau, 2015.

Duckworth, Angela. Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance. Scribner, 2016.

Dweck, Carol S. Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Updated ed., Random

House, 2016.

The Bible: The New King James Version. Thomas Nelson, 1982.