Dinosaur National Monument Should Include Utah Marijuana Laws 

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As Utahns, we live in an area that's rich in natural beauty, and our region is the undisputed winner when it comes to accessibility of multiple national parks, national recreation areas and national monuments.

We can revel in the convenience of Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Arches, Canyonlands, Bryce Canyon and the rapidly-shrinking Lake Powell—one of America's greatest and most spectacular water-sports heavens. Considering how much red rock there is in our state, it should be one of Santa's favorite places. Of course, that red is particularly hard on his sleigh-runners, and his reindeer complain bitterly on difficulties with the slick-rock.

Actually, it's easy to see why Santa loves Utah. For one thing, Utah's rife with his favorite colors. Besides all that red in the southern reaches, we have white—gazoodles of it. The snow really is the greatest on Earth, when we get some—my license plate says so. And though it's a bit sketchy in many of Utah's vast expanses, we have plenty of green in our forests and mountains.

Those are the traditional Christmas colors, and we're blessed with them all. When it comes to recreation, Utah is the gift that keeps giving.

I've been lucky enough to see all of Utah's national parks and recreation areas, and my children's best memories are of hiking the many trails, thrilling at the splendid vistas, camping under bejeweled skies and jumping off cliffs at Lake Powell. But after all of that, I found I'd missed one—a few years ago, I got to see Dinosaur National Monument for the very first time.

If you haven't been there, it's time to plan a short jaunt to one of Utah's most fascinating spectacles. Dinosaur is the heaven of fossils: The Quarry Exhibit allows visitors to peer into Utah's past, with over—yes, get this—1,500 fossils exposed on the face of a single wall. My wife and I were totally gob-smacked at seeing so many ancient creatures—a truly astounding glimpse into our state's past.

And the charm of Dinosaur doesn't stop there. You can find some of Utah's best whitewater river-running in the Green River Desolation Canyon and the wild Yampa. There's great camping, scenic hikes and easy-to-get-to petroglyphs from Utah's early residents. If you've never been to Dinosaur National Monument, it's high-time to have that rich experience.

So much for my travelogue. In that Quarry Exhibit, Utah ought to display another dinosaur—the current state of its marijuana laws is as antiquated and non-progressive as the fossils in that wall.

Sometimes I think that Utahns actually take pride in being the champion holdout obstructionists who stand in the way of a national policy on cannabis. While 21 states, four territories, and the District of Columbia have decriminalized its recreational use, Utah—along with a predictable array of other super-conservative states—still incarcerates its share of those who possess or distribute marijuana.

Oh sure, Utah did take a step in the right direction, making certain forms of cannabis legal for those with a medical need. But our legislators—oh, we should be proud—hampered by the muckety-mucks of the local religion, couldn't even do that right. Employees of any privately-owned businesses—excepting all government agencies—can still lose their jobs for legitimate medical marijuana use. And visitors, from other states—those possessing valid medical marijuana cards from their home states—can still be prosecuted for possession if their specific need for the therapy isn't listed on Utah's approved list of qualifying diagnoses.

That is outrageous. This isn't just an issue for those who require medical cannabis; it's every Utahn's problem.

Though marijuana is among the kindest of nature's offerings—and far safer than legal alcohol—the stuffed shirts of our state continue to hurt its people, who face both fines and prison terms for its use. You'd think that after President Biden recently gave freedom and amnesty to so many who were imprisoned for the use of a soft drug, wrongly-classified as a controlled Schedule 1, that our own governor and Legislature would show such human compassion. At the very least, they should be addressing clemency and commutation of all minor drug convictions.

No chance. In fact, the state's stubborn allegiance to its dinosaur laws makes it, along with the other holdout states, responsible for a great deal of human suffering. Our state's policies on cannabis are culpable in feeding and sustaining the terrible drug wars, mayhem and murder that accompany our state's recreational use of illegal cannabis.

Obviously, Utah didn't learn its lesson from the Prohibition era: Make something illegal, and it becomes a gold mine for organized crime. Our state shares the blame for lots of pain: the pain of loved ones shot in cartel violence; the pain of family and young children awaiting the eventual return of a parent; and the devastation of legal bills and the misery perpetuated by our courts.

Utah's marijuana laws are just a living fossil of a creature that will eventually—out of necessity—become another of its sometimes-shameful past. Every one of us should be screaming about Utah's attachment to antiquated ideas. We should become some of the pioneers of consistent interstate and national policies on both recreational and medical marijuana. It's time to end the disaster of its criminalization.

The author is a retired novelist, columnist, and former Vietnam-era Army assistant public information officer. He resides in Riverton with his wife, Carol, and the beloved ashes of their mongrel dog.