Yeah. It recently opened inside City Market. I talked to a few locals about it.
There is no clear-cut consensus in Moab, I don't think. There are a few groups in Moab that might embrace different opinions. There are the folks who are the blue-collar, leftover mine-worker-types. There are the people who moved there on purpose to be a part of the outdoor adventure scene. And there are people who have a second (or third or tenth) house in Moab.
I'm not sure the blue-collar people care about Starbucks. I don't really see much of them when I'm in Moab. They keep to themselves, and maybe they've never heard of Starbucks. This is possible. If you don't think so, come with me to Depew sometime.
The rich people who decided to buy or build a house in Moab so they don't have to rent or camp when they're in town for some 4-wheeling are probably of a different attitude. I assume most of them are happy that Moab is finally making some advancements, and welcome the presence of Starbucks.
The third group came to Moab because it is non-corporate. It's out-of-the-way, and there is definitely an independent, uniqueness to the town. These people don't want to see that go, but they know Starbucks' arrival is an indication that times they are a-changin.
One person I talked to said there is a backlash against Starbucks in town. Some people are boycotting City Market (though I think most locals avoid it anyway because it's so over-priced). There is a rash of anti-starbucks propaganda around town. Anti-Starbucks stickers. I heard that someone was putting an ad in the Ad-vertiser newspaper each week, stating reasons that people shouldn't patronize Starbucks. One girl who grew up in Moab (and is currently a barista at an independent coffee shop) told me that it didn't affect her at all. She said that the people who would come to her store wouldn't go to Starbucks anyway. But then she started telling me how it was indicative of lousy choices that have been made by city planners over the last few years. She said they are not focusing on sustainability and the uniqueness in Moab. She thinks there is a market for keeping it local, and that is the market they've captured over the past severay years. But by bringing in corporate chains (there are also McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's, and other crappy places), they are encouraging a shift in markets. From those who care about the independents in Moab to those who are coming to Moab for the image it portrays. Chances are, when the people (like me) stop coming (so often), there will be a lag before the rich non-adventurous people close the gap. And that may not last.
One person told me they were afraid Moab was turning into an over-commercialized Telluride. They said that real estate prices had risen so much in the past 9 months that the workers in Moab (who already work 3 jobs) weren't able to afford living in town. There is definitely a lot of construction going on.
Walmart has been trying to bring a store to Moab for some time now. Last time, the city planners didn't allow it. But there is a fear that they are looking for a rancher with some property he'd be willing to part with for a substantial amount of money. Or that Walmart will simply open a store in the next county, which is just outside town. Feeling is that Walmart opens a chasm between the rich and the poor. The poor people are drawn to buy things as cheap as they can, even though the quality is less, and the jobs they work are minimum-wage.
The real crux of the issue, aside from losing the uniqueness of Moab, is the fact that corporate chains take money out of the community. When you spend money at Starbucks, it goes to Seattle, not to the owners of Mondo Cafe. As more and more money leaves town and the locals stop supporting each other with purchases, the town starts to die. Eventually the small independents will close down and all that will be left are the chains.
Imagine a Moab with REI instead of GearHeads and Pagan Mountaineering, Olive Garden instead of Pasta Jay's, TGI Friday's instead of the Moab Brewery, Panera Bread instead of Red Rock Bakery, Barnes & Noble instead of Arches Book Company, The Marriott instead of the Apache Motel (where John Wayne used to stay when he was in town shooting movies), and Starbucks...
Might as well be in South Tulsa.
Don't have to squint your little brain too far to imagine it. The same thing is happening in the Brookside area of Tulsa. They're creeping in on us, and no one seems to care.
Starbucks in Moab. A sign of things to come. The Moabites know it, but they're nearly powerless to put on the brakes.
Put that in your documentary, Amy Ferraris.

On Thursday I rode my new singlespeed down to Arches Book Company, my spot to pick up interesting local literature. ABC is also the place where Fresh Moab Coffee is roasted.
It's a really nice bookstore, with sections that are clearly marked, and I always find some great used book to buy and throw in my backpack. This time it was an old book from the Grand County Public Library called Canyonlands National Park- History and First Descriptions by F.A. Barnes, published in 1988 and well used since then.
When you walk in the front door, the coffee bar is right there, and they have a long, wooden table to sit at and drink/read. They are pulling shots on a 2-group La San Marco, much like the one I found at Wicked Brew. The owner told me they are about to get a new machine because the LSM had become "maintenance heavy," but he had no idea what machine they were going to purchase. He's just the owner, not the coffee guy. Nice enough fellow. He asked if I was a barista, which I affirmed (no need to whip out the Barista Guild membership card), and when I asked him about the roaster, he took me in the back for a look.
FMC is roasted in a small (3kilo?) Diedrich drum roaster. A guy named Bob comes in and roasts for them, but they're limited because Bob is a volunteer and he's not interested in upping his output. He also has a Sonofresco 1# fluid bed roaster, which is no longer in use. They had at least 12 different varietals, purchased from Royal Coffee (one of my brokers, too). I was comforted when he told me they don't do any dark roasts.
The coffee was unremarkable. About like every other cup in town. I'm having trouble remembering the difference between one cup and another. There is potential, and if some young whippersnapper wanted to go in and jockey that roaster and espresso machine into shape, I think Moab could have a good thing on their hands. So close! I am thankful for ABC, and I think they are doing a good job considering the fact that their main focus is on literature.
If you get a chance, check out their website. Always good to support the locals (even if they aren't YOUR locals): http://arches.booksense.com

Continuing my coffee tour de Moab, I rode through the drive through at Wicked Brew. This place is in a big, gravel parking lot on Main Street, and has been there for about two years. They apparently bought the little building in Portland, complete with equipment, and brought it to Moab, where it sat on wheels until recently when they put it on a foundation.
They serve coffee from a roastery in Salt Lake City called Caffe Ibis, and the guy serving my coffee told me it was "organic and stuff, so that's pretty cool." The espresso machine is a 3-group La San Marco, manufactured in 1995. In the past LSM machines have had problems maintaining temps when it gets busy. This machine looks fairly new, and since I was the only person for miles looking for Wicked coffee, there was no chance of temp issues.
I like the building. And the logo is cool. They have stickers with their logo on it, and other ones that say "Sinner."
I ordered a small americano, and it was served with a chocolate-covered coffee bean on top of the plastic lid. Fancy drive-through to-go fare. Or something.
My first sip was very earthy, almost gamy. After that, it was all Sumatra and bitters, and the desire for something a little less Yemen. Wicked Brew is a wild brew- an over-extracted, watered-down, not-that-great brew. But it was coffee. Maybe I'll go back. I'm running out of options...

I'm sitting in Red Rock Bakery, right across the street from Mondo Café, in Moab Utah. I always throw my business at Mondo when I come to town because it used to be so cool. It was small and kitschy, unpretentious, and it had decent coffee. I patterned some of my coffeehouse after the old Mondo. But since then, it has changed. It has grown. It has a big seating area and computers, and a new... well, everything, just about. And the coffee. Well, on Monday when I rolled into town, I stopped in and checked my email (I used to just sit there and write in my journal) and drank two small americanos. Back to back. Not bad. Not great, but not terrible either.
Then yesterday, I went back in after my camp coffee turned out to be less than expected (I think my coffee beans sat in a hot car too long). But the americano was UNdrinkable. I'm serious. I probably wouldn't have drunk it had I spent my last two dollars on it. It was that bad. Like maybe they ran out of the espresso blend and dumped some other crap coffee in the hopper. And I'm sure there were a myriad of other problems in the production of the espresso. All I know is, now I'm across the street.
The breakfast sandwiches here are great. They bake their own breads, even bagels. Yesterday and today, they put a couple slices of tomato on there that clearly came straight out of the owner's garden. Mmm. The coffee here is hit and miss, but at least the miss is still drinkable. Yesterday's americano tasted like mediocre coffee, and today's was better. Mondo uses a two-group La Marzocco and coffee from Batdorf & Bronson. Red Rock Bakery uses a two-group automatic Rancilio and coffee from a local roaster- Fresh Moab Coffee.
I'm planning to ride mi bicicleta through the drive-through coffee place called Wicked Brew on my way to Chile Pepper Bike Shop. So I'll report on that as soon as I know anything.
Hey- you're in luck. DoubleShot Coffee Company is open again today! Drink More Coffee!

This doesn't have much to do with coffee, except to partially explain why DoubleShot is SHUT for four days. The real gist is my personal contemplation about running, racing, failure/success, and personal demons.
I ran in the Leadville100 on Saturday. My legs still hurt, and everything is still hazy in my mind. It's hard to separate perception from reality.
This year was different from last. The course is the same. The way I handled it was different.
The race started at 4a on Saturday, which meant I had to roll out of my tent around 250a. I showered, got dressed, and pulled my gear together; then I drove into town and walked to the starting line. It's quite an event for Leadville. They put on a first-class event, and the whole town is amped up for it. Even the coffeeshop (Provin Grounds) opens at 3a on race day. The pre-race meeting, much like the atmosphere at the starting line, is inspirational, awe-inspiring, spine-tingling, and nerve-wracking.
All 500 or so of us bunched up and listened to the count-down and the cheers from anxious onlookers. And then we ran.
A mass start like that, running out of town and onto dirt roads in the dark, tends to drag me along with the crowd. Since I haven't been running much lately, my legs weren't really ready for the distance and pace. The first aid station isn't until 13.5 miles, up and down on dirt singletrack- like running a half-marathon at the beginning of an ultra. It took me a long time to get into my rhythm, and I was glad to see the aid station- and to find my crew there waiting for me.
I ate a dry hamburger, filled my bottles, and headed back out on the trail. The next section is 10 miles over Sugarloaf Pass. It was the first real climb of the race, and I was ready for it. I'm a pretty good uphiller, so in some ways it feels like a break to ascend. Sugarloaf tops out just over 11,000ft and then descends 1500ft to the next aid station.
My faithful crew was a no-show at this one so, a little confused and irritated, I moved on down the road- but didn't eat anything (big mistake). Seven miles later, after a slight uphill on paved and dirt road, I made it to the Halfmoon aid station, which is inaccessible to support crews. Still on my own. I ate as much as I could at that one, but the ham sandwich was so salty that I chewed and chewed. It's hard enough to eat while running, but dry and salty?
The next ascent is rough. It's steep and then it descends and goes up again. And then it levels out, runs along a ridge that teases me with views of Twin Lakes (and the next aid station). And then it descends sharply for 1,000ft.
I don't think I mentioned it, but until this point, it had been chilly and rainy all day. It finally cleared off and I started to get hot in all my layers. And you know how I said I'm good at ascending? Well, that pretty much makes me bad at descending. I suck at it. I tried some different running forms to try and save my legs, but the fact is, I have to run down steep slopes and it jars the hell out of me.
By the time I got to Twin Lakes, my legs were tired. But my crew was there. Yay! I still felt pretty good, and was prepared for the next section. Ate another hamburger (this time with mayo) and struck out again. The trail crosses a field and a few streams, so my feet finally got soaked. Then the madness begins.
The next ascent goes from 9,300 to 12,600ft (the summit of Hope Pass) in short order. Frankly, it's ridiculous. I hammered up the first mile (I really thought I had something there), then I slowed to a normal pace on the second mile, and staggered up the third mile to the Hope Pass aid station. We're not talking about running here. I'm not sure if the leaders run up, but if they do... uh, I can't even imagine that. And unless you've been there, I doubt you can imagine it either. After eating ramen at the aid station, I continued my one foot in front of the other stagger to the summit (and prayer flags). Oh yeah, as soon as I left the aid station (complete with alpacas), a storm blew in and it got cold and started hailing. The picture here is of the top part of the descent of Hope Pass. It's not as steep on the far side, but the continuous precipitation made the trail as slick as snot. I had a very difficult time keeping my footing on steep singletrack, trying to avoid racers coming back up for the second 50-miles. But I finally made it to the bottom and ran another 2mi up a dirt road to the half-way point.
Josh and Jason (my support team) say I looked pretty rough. 50mi is as far as I made it last year. But with the help of my guys, I rallied enough strength to get back out there. It's funny, but this year I held the same pace as last year, only this time my legs weren't as fried as they were last.
So Jason and I ran back down the dirt road to the base of Hope Pass. I was actually moving pretty good now, partly because I knew I was pushing the time limits. From 50miles on, pacers are allowed, and it helps to have someone carry my second water bottle and give me moral support. Through the mud and steepness, I somehow really got into a groove moving up the mountain. I drew from some inner strength that pushed me forward and upward, and I even attempted to run part of it. To the top and back down a mile to the aid station, where I waited for Jason. Refuel. Move on.
All that hammer time pushed me into a state that I can only describe as a trance. I'm not sure what happens, but I regress, move inward, and fight the demons. They seem real, and they talk to me. They make me tired, make my legs hurt, tell me things I don't want to hear. And I tell them to go away. They can't control me, but if I'm not careful they influence my mind. I wonder if they are not always there, and I just don't hear them until I am weak.
Anyway, I rallied again and pushed down the mountain in the dark. Made pretty good time, and got into the Twin Lakes aid station on schedule.
I knew I was in trouble.
People talk about "hitting the wall" in marathons, but until you stretch out that distance, you don't find out that "the wall" is actually a tunnel. I can come out of it, even though it is really dark in there.
Josh took over as my pacer for the next leg, and from 60 to 70 miles I struggled. The demons came again and my stomach started feeling queasy. It was slow going, and the ascent out of Twin Lakes was destroying me. I even sat down at one point to consider whether it would be in the best interest of my safety to turn around. My mind was screwed up. But with Josh's help, I continued on. It was dark, and the trail was narrow, and my balance was bad, and even though our pace was slow, we were passing a lot of people. One girl, who came in from Japan, withdrew from the race on a stretcher on this section of trail. I did eventually make it to the next aid station 21 hours and 22 minutes into the race. Unfortunately, the time cutoff for this aid station was 20:45, and I missed it.
The woman in charge of disqualifications met me as I arrived. She told me I was late and cut off my racing wristband. She told me that it was a good effort, that it was a rough day, and there was nothing to be ashamed of. So at 70 miles, I was done.
It's hard to know what to think of this. I didn't train for it, and I knew there was a slim chance of me being able to finish. But I still had hope. And I wanted it bad. But I ran as far as I could, and then I stopped. Just like I always do.
I'm not sure what all of this means. I'm not sure why I do this. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to learn from it. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel like I failed or if somehow I achieved success. It's never really been about winning for me. I like to win, don't get me wrong. But for some reason, I've always felt disappointed in myself only if I didn't give it everything I had. I definitely tried and failed- I wanted that buckle. I'm disappointed in that. But at the same time, I know that under the circumstances, I pushed myself as far as I could. Is there honor in that? I don't know.
I know this: I can run 70miles in the Rocky Mountains without training.
Thanks to Josh and Jason for the support during the race- I wouldn't have made it that far without you. And thanks to all my friends who have been checking on me the last few days. I really feel the love and support of people who care about me, and I really appreciate it.
"So what's next?" (I ask myself in the car today before I can even walk normal)

When I was in Moab last month, I had to go to GearHeads to get some fuel for my stove, and I looked around and found some other stuff I "needed." When I was checking out, I saw this packet of Java Juice, "Pure Coffee Extract." The manager gave me a couple to try, and I brought them home and did just that.

It says on the package that I should add the contents to 12-16 oz hot water. I put 12 ounces of 198 degree water in a cup, tore open the package, and emptied it into the cup. So far, so good.

This is actually a decent idea. For people who are too lazy to make real camp coffee, this is a pretty good way of doing it... in theory. I once tried to put shots of espresso in plastic bags to take with me- to make americanos, or to just suck up for a quick burst of caffeine. It didn't work. Tasted like crap.

The Java Juice concoction had a stale aroma. When coffee goes stale, the first thing it loses is the aroma. There's no doubt this coffee was stale, and it tasted like it was probably stale before they even brewed it. Flat, no acidity, bitter, sour, sharp. Cold-brewed coffee (generally how concentrate is made) always has a lower acidity, but I wouldn't necessarily say that's a good thing. Acidity is the thing that makes a coffee pop- gives it liveliness, makes it explode in your mouth. Without acidity, the coffee just kind of lays there, like flat coke. The Java Juice, I'm sorry to say, also tasted like cardboard. Seems it wasn't a good coffee to begin with. They let it go stale. Then I think they over-extracted it when brewing. It wasn't very good.

But as I said, it was a good concept. The package only weighs 16g, so throwing a few in your backpack is no big deal (that's 28 packages per pound). My friend Brad and I always bought the Folgers Singles when we would backpack. It was better than nothing, we thought (ugh). Now I go equipped with roasted (or sometimes green) coffee beans, a hand grinder, and a presspot. You can't rush good coffee. It's worth the time and effort. Well-made camp coffee is awesome.

One time I was camping with a friend and I didn't have a grinder with me, so I poured the coffee beans in my bowl and used the back of a spoon to crush them all. It took a long time, but I got my coffee.

I recomend a GSI JavaGrind hand grinder. It's easy to use, has sharp ceramic burrs, and only cost $20. I got one, and I love it.