Old La Sal, Utah: Wild West Ghost Town History, Ruins & Exploration Guide Near Moab
- Justin Shannon, Ph.D.

- Feb 15
- 5 min read
Updated: Jun 16

Exploring Old La Sal, Utah: Wild West Ghost Town History, Ruins & Exploration Guide Near Moab reveals that this valley was once one of Utah’s wildest frontier cow towns—a place where the smell of horses and campfire smoke mixed with cheers from high-stakes horse races. Attracted to the beautiful landscape, green pastures, and amazing mountain water. Today, there are few homes painted across the landscape, but old, broken-down fence lines, abandoned buildings, and cellar holes still remain. In the late 1800s, this was a booming outpost teeming with life, cattle, and frontier American dreams. Guests at Deer Creek Retreat drive past the north end of the valley’s ghostly remains every day, unaware of the legends buried in those dusty meadows.
The 1877 Boom: “Grass Up to a Horse’s Belly”
When Thomas and Elizabeth Ray brought their eight children into the La Sal Mountains in 1877, they were chasing the promise of better grass than the Moab Valley could grow. What they found was lush meadowland fed by snowmelt from the peaks—a green dream for cattle ranchers. Within a year, Cornelius Maxwell and the McCartys drove in 2,000 head of cattle, and the empty flatlands were soon alive with corrals, cabins, and nightly campfires.
Families followed fast: the Nielsens, the Taylors, the Shafers—more than twenty pioneering families who carved homesteads out of the open range. They built schools, a trading store, and a rough log chapel. The air was filled with the promise of permanence, and for a brief decade, Old La Sal thrived as a proper community—a dot of civilization on Utah’s eastern frontier.
Wild Bunch Country: Butch Cassidy’s Shadow
Life on the edge always carried risk. The same distance that made Old La Sal a great spot for grazing also made it a haven for those looking to disappear (kind of a selling point for seclusion Deer Creek brings). Hidden between the red cliffs to the west and the peaks of the La Sal Mountains to the east, this pocket of southeast Utah became both a sanctuary and a crossroads — a quiet stage for two very different forces shaping the West: Brigham Young’s Mormon settlers and Butch Cassidy’s outlaws.
Brigham Young’s Vision of the Southern Settlements
Decades before rustlers arrived, Brigham Young, leader of the Latter-day Saint pioneers, had envisioned southern Utah as a vital stronghold for the expanding Mormon frontier. Beginning in the 1850s, he sent waves of colonists south from Salt Lake City to establish self-sustaining communities that could feed and support the growing Mormon population. He saw southern Utah not just as pastureland, but as moral and spiritual ground—a proving field for faith, industry, and perseverance.
Those early missions to colonize San Juan County and the La Sal region were treacherous. Settlers had to carve roads through impassable canyons, ford rivers, and negotiate peace with Ute and Paiute peoples who already called the territory home. Yet, by the time families like the Rays and Maxwells rode in during the late 1870s, they found the infrastructure and religious network Brigham Young’s expansion had already set in motion. His broader colonization strategy effectively opened the gates for both the faithful—and the faithless—to filter into Utah’s last frontiers.
Enter Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch
By the 1880s, that same wilderness Brigham had dreamed of as a symbol of moral strength became the perfect refuge for men like Robert LeRoy Parker, better known as Butch Cassidy. Born in Beaver, Utah—a Mormon homestead town—Cassidy grew up steeped in the very virtues Brigham Young preached: hard work, loyalty, and independence. But he saw another kind of gospel on the range: one of freedom and defiance.
When railroads and cattle corporations began tightening control over western ranchlands, Cassidy and his companions—Matt Warner, Elzy Lay, and the McCarty brothers—pushed back in the only way they knew, with guns, grit, and galloping horses. They often moved through the La Sal Mountains, using its hidden draws and drainages as staging grounds for robberies that stretched from Wyoming to New Mexico. Locals would later whisper that stolen horses were sometimes traded quietly among La Sal’s ranches, more out of survival than sympathy.
Law and Disorder in the High Country
Old La Sal’s ranchers built a fort cabin with rifle ports, hoping to protect families from both rustlers and raids. From its walls, one could see the duality of the frontier: to the north, the legacy of Brigham Young’s settlers who tamed the land; to the south, the shadow of Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch, who refused to be tamed.
Figures like Pat Garrett, chasing Billy the Kid just across the borderlands, serve as reminders that order and chaos often shared the same horizon. In Old La Sal, faith and frontier spirit, law and lawlessness, brushed shoulders daily. It was where dreams of God’s kingdom met the lure of the outlaw trail—and the mountains kept every secret.
The Decline: Drought, Floods, and Dust

The collapse came fast. A series of cloudburst floods turned La Sal Creek into a roaring torrent, sweeping cabins and corrals off their foundations. Overgrazing stripped the hills bare—thousands of sheep replaced cattle, and the delicate desert grasses never recovered. The Wild Bunch’s thefts didn’t help; stealing herds meant lost wealth and weary owners.
By the early 1900s, drought choked the valley. “About every seven years we get a good year,” remembered local rancher Norma Blankenagel, “most years, you couldn’t get enough water to wash your hands.” Families left one by one, moving six miles south to the steadier water of Coyote Creek—modern La Sal.
Walking the La Sal Wild West Ghost Town
From Deer Creek Retreat, the old townsite lies just ten minutes south along Highway 46. For modern visitors, it’s worth pulling over and wandering through what remains. The old cellar holes you’ll see belonged to the Rays, Maxwells, and McCartys—foundation stones now tunneled by prairie dogs. The outline of the old fort still stands, with faint rifle ports peering toward the horizon. La Sal is truly a wild west ghost town.
Bring boots, especially in summer—rattlesnakes sun in the sage—and take a camera. When the early morning light hits the old corrals and bottle glass, you can almost hear the whinny of horses and the creak of saddle leather.
Today, it’s quiet. But that silence holds stories—of pioneers, settlers, and outlaws whose choices shaped the land. Staying at Deer Creek Retreat, you’re sleeping under the same stars they rode beneath, along the same creeks that once watered their herds.
Come for a night or two and add your footprints to the story of this incredible La Sal Wild West ghost town—a place built on faith, grit, and the stubborn dream that a town could rise out of sage and rock.
Cheers!
Justin
About the Author
The author holds a Ph.D. and is an ordained professional chaplain, specializing in the integration of motivation and choice theory, psychological resilience, and pastoral soul care. Transitioning from a ten-year active duty career as a Captain in the U.S. Army—where he served within the high-intensity environment of a critical care hospital—his work bridges empirical behavioral science with practical strategies for long-term identity formation. He serves as the primary researcher for grittygritgrit.com, a digital platform dedicated to helping individuals cultivate authentic perseverance through the profound transitions, traumas, and valleys of life. You can explore more of his work and high-mountain-desert writing at deercreeklasal.com.




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