In April 1999, the Moab Skyway officially opened to the public, marking the culmination of more than two decades of work and vision by longtime Moab residents Emmett Mays and his son, Van.
The Moab Skyway, a chairlift attraction that was located near the Colorado River along Kane Creek Boulevard, carried visitors nearly 1,000 feet above the Moab and Spanish valleys, offering stunning views and downhill mountain biking opportunities.
“When we opened up, and the crowds were coming, and we just looked at each other and said, ‘It doesn’t get any better than this,’” Van said. “[We saw] community members, our friends and people we grew up with … that was really exciting.”
Despite its closure in 2004 due to financial challenges, the Bureau of Land Management’s Moab Field Office believes the Skyway remains a significant chapter in Moab’s history.
The BLM, which has owned the site since 2008, installed a new interpretive sign in November titled “High Hopes and Big Risks” to honor the Skyway and the vision of its creators.
The sign highlights the determination of the Mays family and their many collaborators, the support and pride the community had in seeing the project completed and its role in Moab’s growing recreation and tourism industry at the time.
“This parcel deserved more than to just become another piece of land we acquired,” said Jeremy Buck, a park ranger and volunteer coordinator for the Moab BLM Office who led the project. “Digging into this history and working with Van really opened up a lot of narratives that flow through this community.”
A vision realized
The Skyway began as Emmett’s dream in the 1970s, during a time when Moab was transitioning from its uranium-mining roots and searching for a new economic identity. In 1973, Emmett purchased a 160-acre parcel of land with a vision for a unique attraction that could tap into the region’s growing recreation economy.
“He kind of saw tourism coming before it seemed like a lot of people did,” Van said. “He always was able to be a visionary – looking outside the box on everything he did and I think that that’s what really drove him in the beginning.”
Over the next 25 years, Emmett and Van worked tirelessly to secure permits and investors. They overcame skepticism from parts of the community, addressing concerns about environmental impacts and aesthetics.
The Skyway’s design reflected these efforts, incorporating safety and environmental measures, which cost a sizable amount of money, such as bird habitat surveys, pollution studies, vehicle fluid catchment systems and earth-tone striped paint on the lift structures to blend with the red rock surroundings.
Accessibility was also a priority. The Skyway featured ramps, a wheelchair-accessible chairlift and boardwalks leading to viewpoints, making it possible for individuals of all abilities to enjoy the experience.
Opening and challenges
Construction of the Skyway began in early 1998, with the attraction opening to the public in April 1999, with the help of fellow family members Blake Atkins and Greg Nelson.
The grand opening drew excitement from many locals who had been anticipating the project for years. The Skyway offered affordable shuttle services for downhill mountain bikers and scenic rides for sightseers.
“That opening day was a high point and to see the reception from the community … it was beautiful,” Van said.
Van added as time went on, it was also exciting to see tourists visit, some of whom said ‚”this might be the best ride we’ve ever been on as far as scenic beauty.”
Despite the enthusiasm, the Skyway struggled to maintain financial viability. Van said it drew about 23,000 visitors annually, far short of the 40,000 needed to break even. Van added he thinks that the timing wasn’t ideal for the type of attraction they had built.
“We were probably 15 to 20 years before our time, as far as where Moab had gotten to on the tourism front,” he said.
Additionally, fear of the open-air chairlift deterred many potential riders.
“We probably lost close to 60% of those that came over,” Van said. “They’d take a look up there and say, ‘That looks pretty dramatic to me. I’m too nervous.’”
In 2002, Emmett sold the Skyway, which was renamed the Moab Rim Adventure Park & Scenic Tram. Even with further development, low visitation persisted and the attraction ultimately closed in 2004.
Van explained the long-term vision of the Skyway if it had been successful was to have a gift shop and snack bar on the lower level, plus a restaurant and amphitheater on top.
Preserving the legacy
After the closure, The Nature Conservancy purchased the property in 2005 and began rehabilitating the land. Volunteers dismantled the Skyway, and the chairlift was sold to Whitefish Mountain Resort in Montana, where it continues to operate as the Easy Rider Quad.
The BLM acquired the parcel in 2008 using the Land and Water Conservation Fund. Since then, the agency has worked to preserve the area’s history while making it accessible for public use, refurbishing the lower portion of the site with shade structures, vault toilets and informational signs for a day-use area.
Buck explained how the story that the new interpretive sign, installed in November, ties into a broader theme of “high hopes and big risks” that resonates across Moab’s history, from early Mormon settlers to the uranium boom and beyond.
“It’s a thematic idea that flows through almost every sort of phase of history of this area of Moab,” Buck said.
Lessons for the future
For Van, the Skyway represents more than a business venture with his dad; it’s a story of perseverance and the value of pursuing ambitious goals.
“It took us a while after losing the lift. It was just gut-wrenching,” Van said. “But as we looked back on it, we talked about it, and if we had never put that up there, we never would have known. The fact that we did put something up that all these years later people are still proud of — that was huge.”
Van added before Emmett passed, they talked about how much discipline and sacrifice taking on a project like this took and even though it didn’t last, the triumph they felt when it was completed.
“There’s some lessons there that we’ve been able to teach our family,” Van said. “They’ll probably go on for generations is what I hope, so that’ll be a lasting kind of gift people can give [because] we stuck with it.”
