Outdooritis

by

Yes, I’ve been diagnosed with this and too much homework at school is the cause. Right now I am working on a paper about Ethnomethodology and how it has become revolutionary in the field of Sociology. It basically invalidates all the old conventional theories like Marxism. Even society is an illusion to the Ethnomethodologist! Maybe I should become one?

Thanks to desert beauty and crickets on warm summer nights, I know what I crave. I miss the dark monsoon storms of late July rolling over high desert plateaus and listening to the distant rolling thunder. The days are growing longer and trees are becoming green. It is time to go sit on Grandma’s porch and watch the hummingbirds.

Well, I’ve spent most my life living outdoors and being in the hills. This summer I am going to photograph areas of rural Southern Utah. Here’s a new twist, I’m also dating and enjoying a social life. Heck, I’m more sociable than I ever imagined. It’s a piece of cake with the right amount of confidence.

This summer my goal is to do some serious hiking in the outback. Running is a new passion. What I need is a good backpack for trekking. My old one is busted. I have an S.A. 44 Magnum to spook off cougars and black bears, so I feel safe going into the wilderness alone. I’ve already come face to face with a black bear and only pots and pans to bang!

Thoughts on Patience

by

It is a real virtue to remain calm when storms unfold. As you think you are getting old now, just keep advancing forward through different levels of maturity. Then you will look back and realize your own immaturities. You will see that wisdom and love are not derived from arrogance or selfishness. Peace and solitude come from selfless introspection and trying your best at finding a way through darkness and suffering. Sadness plays an important role in your progress through life but true happiness is the beauty that brings balance when struggles abound.

King of Trees

by

It has become Methuselah
while the sweat of black sun
drips from its wooden claws
which break
timeless howling winds

Daily
the cloud people travel
beyond its barren branches
into the ages
of silence

On the furthest edges
of God’s Holy Imagination
stands the test of time

With dark sandstone
plateaus below and
High above
on it’s heavenly throne
rules the ancient
Bristlecone Pine!

The Beautiful Quiet

by

In town I feel like a stranger and so I go home to visit the hills. Them rolling mountains have always been my friends. They are always there waiting. My love for the wild is my inner peace. On deep summer nights the thunder rolls over canyon country and I hear the sound of rain when sleeping on these cold winter nights. Oh, how I miss summer’s warmth…

In a dream, the cottonwoods sway to and fro on a heavy wind. I look into the sky and see patches of cumulus cloud ships as they journey through turquoise blue. And all of this fills an empty void inside. Even in hard times, the beauty gets me by from day to day. It helps me to remember and acknowledge the Creator’s hand in all things.

Life is like a rugged dirt road. It has washboards, puddles, and deep ruts, but my happiness has always been in four wheel drive and I can go anywhere I please. So I don’t let sadness or loneliness creep upon me. There is too much at stake. There is too much to be thankful for.

In the Candled Night

by

It is a candled night
in dreams they sleep
vast distances lay between

the firelight dances in their minds

with each passing hour
the dream fades
then grows

an empty void fills
the interior walls
of yesteryear
even yesterday

a vision of pairs
walks carefully down
an imagined street

the soft candled
sky shows fiery hues

spiraling galaxies throw
colorful intensities

all the while
in the deepness of the soul
the heart rakes the
rugged densities of life

the feeling of absence
grows arduous in
dark moonless hours

when a beautiful song
cannot be sung
…i know a place
where no one ever goes…
that is how the song is sung
but silence reverberates

no careful peace is felt
on a moonless night
when stars ignite the heavens

and with the silence
comes no certainty

it is peace and quietness
that claims forested hills
in the isolated mansions of earth

the quietest of solitudes
are discovered

i hear the song in my mind
while sleeping as rip van winkle
under a wise cottonwood
of thick, rattling leaves

it all seems a dream
even the labors of life

when basking
in beauty and repose

in the candled night
i dream of the azure sky
beside a mountain stream
singing the same careful tune

it is in a far off place
somewhere
far away

Changing Course Just a Little…

by

I’ve returned to Southern Utah University to finish my schooling. I am not too far from finishing a degree in Sociology. I will pursue graduate school after that and get a masters degree. My interest is Cultural Anthropology or a related field of study. So I’ve returned after a two year absence.

I’ve been working as a wilderness guide, and have enjoyed many life changing ventures. Being able to traverse the vast distances of the Desert Southwest is a blessing. Being footloose and careless though hasn’t given me the happiness that I would like that usually comes from human affection and finding someone that truly loves you. While the isolation and separation from society is something that I desire, I would like to experience the freedom and responsibility that comes from settling down and raising a family someday. Finishing school is important to a stable and secure future! As much as I love the mountains and prospecting the mysteries of this world, I also have the same desire to start a family one day!

Life is short. There are many blessings in my life. The other night, I was reading the works of Robert Service, and read a poem about men that don’t fit in. I tend to feel like one of them, but I am not going to be one that dies a lonesome and sad hermit. Life is not going play a jolly good joke on me! The truth is, being human and being happy, means having loved ones around and being surrounded by those that care for you. For without love, beauty could not exist. It is my love for the mountains and deserts that make them beautiful! But love is powerful, it is drawn from so many different faucets and they are all interwoven.

Faith and Steadfastness

by

When the hardest trials come knocking on your door, that’s when you have to have the strongest faith and steadfastness. That is how it feels. That is the way it always will be. You will not be rewarded until after all the trials of your faith. The truth is that life is unpredictable. The way people react is completely unpredictable. Having a lot of faith is not for the faint of heart. My faith is strong this Sunday morning. I believe strongly in the Creator and am grateful for a powerful blessing that has come into my life. But the truth is, the path through life isn’t an easy path, but it is up to all of us to stay the course. It is my belief that all of life is a test to see if we will remain true and faithful, and endure to the end.

Early this morning, I awakened to the soft winter light seeping through my window as I was pondering everything in reality like what should I do with my life? Where should I go? How hard am I willing to go, to reach my goals and to find true happiness? Faith is for all things hoped for that are not seen…

Between Birth and Death

by

My love of life is incredible and God made me into a pillar of light. Because I am happy to be free, to roam the quiet folds of reality, to travel the haunted night. I drive a small vehicle down the back roads and dirt roads of a big sky desert. My time is short on earth, but spectacular! When I die, allow the coyotes, buzzards, and varmints to eat my satisfied remains. in the end, I want to give something back to the world of creation that spawned me. How grateful I am to be a part of the grand scheme, from birth to death, in a world of the thriving unknown. Where ghosts lurk behind creaky doors and phantoms float the sandy canyons and the wind truly wails.

Remember Beauty When Feeling Uncertain

by

I’m gearing to go somewhere in the next few weeks to go camping for a few days alone. I’m looking at Canyon Lands, or over to Cedar Mesa, by Blanding.

Life is good you know, but times can be rough. That’s why sometimes you have to get out and smell the juniper and pinion, and listen to the wind whistle and cut through pine needles. It is a healing song almost, just to hear the wind and the creaking wood of those old trees. You know what I really love to hear? The thunder late on a summer night, somewhere in Canyon Country, and see the faint flash of lightning in the distance. Think of a flash flood ripping down a slot canyon towards the Pariah, out there on the Great Escalante Grand Staircase. It rattles the earth with boulders, logs, and uprooted trees. The power of this planet is awe-inspiring.

The beauty of life is extraordinary. But we only have a short time on this earth to find harmony. And when I am sad, or lonesome, all I have to do is think of the immense beauty that this world brings to all of us. Surely, I am grateful for such splendors and mysteries.

In a time when materialism and greed dominate the earth, and the heart of mankind is deteriorating at rapid speed, I can think about the quietness that lurks in the shadows and this harmony carries my soft heart away. It is those quiet places that most of us choose to ignore, but something is always there, waiting, unconditionally.

And so when I venture far from town, into the deep woods or into the desert, I feel like I’m going home, especially in these difficult times. They are uncertain times, and I know where beauty is found, it is a quiet peace in my heart that is all-too-hard to describe.

Busy Bees They Are

by

In the darkness, when the stars flood the heavens, there are unknown things that prowl the night. The heavens bathe sandstone outcroppings and the landscape in soft, faint, interstellar glow. Coyote laughter disturbs the silence. The border collie begins barking wildly into the black, waking you from sleep. The coyotes head up the dry wash past the ranch house, chanting and singing an ancient song. The clamor grows faint until nothing is heard, while the wind softly carries an aroma of juniper and wet sage from off of higher plateaus. Earlier that day, a small sprinkle of rain was powerful enough to release the sweet smells of desert flora.

While the darkness grows thicker and the heavens deeper, there is a celebration going on. They work feverishly and tirelessly, moving in and out of unknown channels. Those cobweb networks are teaming with life, and they are busy bees, they are… Can you barely hear the noise, when alone in your camp? Do you see a faint glow from the mountain-side? Maybe it was just a mere shimmer of light… or it was nothing at all. Do you care to venture into the abyss?

Feeling Those Instincts

by

My writing is picking up. I am sitting alone in a motel room and extremely satisfied. What do ya know! At the moment I feel liberated after traveling long highway stretches and winding through steep rocky canyons. I am the nomadic vagabond!

Tomorrow, I’ll be tearing across the Colorado Plateau from high ponderosa desert to sage covered sandstone mesa. The sweet smell of life and laughter is just fabulous, joyous, and spectacular. I sit all amazed at the center of this Creation. This world is apart of me. My mind is with the shifting clouds that roam colorful vistas.

Life is about love. Loving life is the key to truth and happiness. My thoughts are very active tonight. Something unusual is about to come out of the woodwork. These feelings are like clock work and I’m vigilant. The world is about to change, maybe.

Goodnight Folks. Freedom Rules!

The Mystery is in Control

by

I’ve been posting to this blog since 2003. I’ve owned this domain since I was a teen. My heart has changed very little since my younger years. My perception of the world has morphed completely and I’ve come to realize the most spectacular beauty in this world is the Mystery. Allowing things to be dictated by the Mystery always puts me on the right course. Everything happens for a reason and we don’t always know why. It is best to let things move along after leaving a track, a mark, or a simple word, whether it’s for another human being or a group. Life is only complex if you try controlling it. I’m in harmony with my life. It’s lonesome at times, but it has been a good experience.

It is quiet outside… Only the ancient wind howls. It comes to visit in dreams.

Driving into the Desert

by

The power lines run alongside the road with each pole leaning one way or the other. They have become a part of the western landscape. Every road follows a string of power lines. Every sunset is filled with airplane exhaust trails.

There is a rooster tail of dirt behind my wheels and I watch the far flung city disappear in my rear view mirror. To the mountains I go, to the lovely isolation. Beneath the fall sky and wintry clouds, the sun is glazing the Great Basin. Somewhere in those Junipers, it is waiting, a place to visit long ago. It’s not hard leaving the madness and bickering behind for the quiet universe. There is a beauty inside that I can never put down. And to the world of rocks, animals, and trees, I go.

Land of the Nuwuvi

by

I’m working two jobs at the moment. One is Bar 10, out in the Grand Canyon. The other, Bundu Bashers, out of Park City. My last tour is on the 6th. I guess, I’m done with work for the season. This is a three-day tour beginning when I pick folks up on the Vegas Strip. The first day we visit Zion National Park and Grand Canyon. One of the days we have Navajo guides take them to Antelope Canyon and then over to Monument Valley. On the third day, we go to Horseshoe Bend, Bryce Canyon, and then back to Vegas. For three more hours I drive back up to Cedar City. On the way, I stop at the Moapa Paiute Travel Plaza to gas up and look around the shop.

I’d like to go camping in the Mormon Mountains pretty soon. They are apart of the Mojave desert and north of Moapa. Maybe to a place called Welcome Springs. It’s warm during during the fall and real isolated. For a week I went into that country and never saw another two-legged, just wild horses. Of course that was more in the high country on the way to Pioche, through Rainbow Canyon. In the old west, Pioche was one of the most lawless towns in Navada. It is said that there were more then 75 men killed in shoot-outs before anyone actually died of natural causes.

So after these tours, I’m going to travel the Mojave this next winter. Most of Central and Southern Nevada are part the ancestral homelands of the Nuwuvi, or Southern Paiute. I just finished reading a fictional account of a great Southern Paiute Warrior by the name of Mouse… The chairman of the Moapa tribe is quoted on the back of the book, giving it praise. The author isn’t native. I thought it was pretty good read. Although I know books are all-to-often, subjective. There’s a place in the Valley of Fire, which is also known as the Place of Birth to the Southern Paiute, where Mouse hid out and continually resisted the European invaders in his homeland during the 19th century. He was a thorn in the side of the Mormons that lived in his country. Good for Mouse! If you visit the Valley of Fire, north of the Moapa Indian Rez, there is a place the locals call Mouse’s Tank where he spent his days of resistance. There’s a lot of history in Southern Nevada, and it’s pretty interesting. Most of it is unknown to a lot of people.

Some of the folks are getting to know me at the travel plaza, because of all the stops I make while doing this job. When I was younger though, my cousins, brother, and I, we would usually stop there to load up on fireworks before heading off to go camping. We’d travel to places like Hamblin Valley, or north of Pioche, up into the Pinon country. In the fall, you can gather pine nuts. The Travel Plaza itself, is a truck stop, book store, gift shop, clothing store, casino, and everything else. It has one of the largest stock piles of fireworks in Southern Nevada. Pyro Heaven!

So this winter, I’ll venture where wild horses roam and the wind constantly moves. Nevada is a big sky state. It isn’t hard to get lost while roaming hundreds of miles through the interior. After all the time I’ve spent, I have barely scratched the surface.

Southern Nevada is a land of the Nuwuvi and I will always remember it as such. When I take visitors through, I tell them about the Southern Paiute and the folks that run the Plaza. The last time I was there, I locked my keys in the shuttle van while getting gas. Luckily one of the employees had some knowledge about opening locked doors. He unlaced his shoe and made a noose out of a shoelace. Carefully we pried a side window in the van. He slipped the noose through the opening. It took about an hour before this boy was able to get the noose onto the locking mechanism, and unlock the door. I was amazed!

The Cold is Coming

by

It grows cold tonight. The twilight is winter red. The leaves are gold and orange. Not long now and cottonwood skeletons will be exposed in canyon bottoms. Time to go to Cal’s ranch with my next paycheck and get me a Carhartt jacket for the winter snow and muck.

The Colorado Plateau has some of the most spectacular landscapes when they are decked in snow. The good thing about this time of year; no more tourists, no more commercial RVs crowding the back roads. The highways are mostly quiet in the winter, especially out by Tropic and Escalante, Utah.

Wagon of Ashes

by

inside the doorway of the traveling sky,
there is quiet peace in this world.

although there is a lonely wagon filled with ashes
it wonders past sea and mountain, and through the valleys.

when it gets dark and black.
without sight, does it wonder
and cannot find peace.

the children that knew, are crying,
while their parents lay in bed dying.
and so the only mother of them all
went to her autumn grave,
and soon the peaceful snow gathered.

the wagon wonders,
with it’s ashes.

In the dark it wonders.

but in dreams, the children are free
where burdens do not exist.
where suffering has no season.

sad world, sad people.
God has been abandoned,

in a hidden place,
the wagon of ashes has stopped,
far away beneath the treeless moon.
the stars are freezing in the bitter cold.

the children that knew are crying,
while their parents were dying,
in the realm of this sad, sad world.

Go into the Wilderness My Friend

by

Dream of the old way.,
Vanish into the back woods.
The power of the wind is strong.
There is a shadow in the trees.

The powerful mystery speaks.
Dream of the spirit life
Where boundless solitude is found.
Go into the desert alone
Because it is calling you.

There’s a spirit home for every soul.
And the shadow waits.
In the hills over yonder
The mystery sleeps.

The sun is shining in a quiet world
of peace and stillness
Where the forever hills sleep,
that is where you should go

If you are a child of the mountains.

The Sound is Strong

by

The sky is full of storm,
As I retire for the night,
listening to the dense wind blow.
The rain begins to tap the house.

This past summer
the trees were buzzing with ghosts.
And there on the edges of reality
a fiery noise did grow.
The noise is unquiet.
Listen as the coyotes howl…

Praise to those that can hear
the powerful song of beauty.
Beware to those
who do not recognize anything.

The beauty of the wilderness
is beating inside me.
Scenes from an ancient ponderosa forest
flower in dreams, deep at night.
These dreams radiate with the glow
of black sun and turquoise sky.
Wind dashes through the pines
like white water rapids.

The sound is strong, listen.
Love the beauty.
For whatever may come,
be ready!

Thanks to the Folks that Make My Day!

by

People are awesome and lovable. Taking them into the outback to see the beauty, we grow to become close friends and acquaintances. It makes me realize that I could not be happy without good company in my life, and when we are able to connect, we all listen to truth and there is no hard feelings. When hearts are open and listening, truth flourishes and that has been happening on the tours I’ve been giving. The experiences go beyond the commercialism. Folks from all over the world come to see the Southwest and when they are with me, they learn about the cultures and the history of the landscape. They walk away with worth-while knowledge. People ask questions and have a deep desire to learn. When they are given correct info, to the best of my capabilities, they are thankful and responsive. Now folks are sending emails to the company I work for, with good things to say on my behalf, and I am grateful for those words of kindness.

I’m going out to Toroweap to camp with my brother today. So I have something to do. I’m just kicking around here in Cedar City for the rest of the winter, pondering a move to Santa Fe. Last night I dropped my guests off on the Las Vegas Strip (Uglyville), and stopped in at the Moapa Piaute Travel Plaza to buy some powwow music. I’ve become a regular there, getting gas every time I pass through. This job is almost done for the season! It sure didn’t last long. On the way home I was listening to music; From The Underworld of Redboy, a really good native recording by Robbie Robertson… Amazing stuff!!!

Between Sleeping and Waking

by

The glorious evening was chilly with late monsoonal clouds entering Cedar Valley. They were on the outer limits of the city. Lightning exited a massive thunderhead that lead other cloud soldiers. Trees were bending and swaying to the relentless gusts that brought fine sediments in from the bone-dry Great Basin. It is getting late, the sun has already vanished behind bellowing clouds.

It is dark outside. No stars. In my sleep, I hear the rain and thunder as it plays out in dreams. I’m hiking somewhere in canyon country, surrounded by contrasting red and yellow cliffs, stained by desert varnish. In the vision, the cottonwood grandfathers are talking to me with their creaky branches in a creek bottom.

When awake, reality is a stunning vision. Life is not easy, but the beauty is constantly all around me. The mountains, clouds, animals, trees, rocks, and the rugged Southwest. Away from the towns, the manzanita and tammerisk grow wild. Sunflowers crowd the shoulders of dirt roads. Juniper choke the vast foothills. Off the beaten path lay the remnants of archaic peoples. Looking at sacred images on the rocks, it is hard to imagine the monsters that must have co-existed with humans. Were they supernatural entities? These rock paintings are alive and radiate with spirit. I leave them a gift.

Over in Page

by

Unpublished Journal Entry from 11/09/2007:

The Stars are out. I’m in Page, Arizona finishing off some Blue Corn Mush, Mutton Stew and Frybread; the perfect Navajo Dinner. Delicious! It was abnormally warm in Bryce Canyon, today. During this time of year it gets real cold.

I love moonless nights, with a candled skies. It is that way tonight! I’m going to Monument Valley tomorrow. A place I always love to visit. Tomorrow we stay in Tuba City on the Big Rez. I’d like visit another Navajo Flea Market they occasionally host; a lot of neat stuff to see.

I’m missing summer. Soon the landscape will be calm and painted in snow. An occasional Mule Deer will stroll through the pinion, foraging.

A Supernatural Wind

by

The ferocious wind
whips through tree branches.
I close my eyes and imagine
it’s a dark and supernatural wind
blowing civilization into oblivion.
The wind is singing, howling, and rushing.
The sound is perfect, superb, and beautiful.
Into the ocean deep mind, I descend
remembering ancient days.
It is summoning the anarchy
that burns in my soul.
Where’s an escape
that leads to the past?

Good News, A New Job

by

Well, I’m falling into a rut they call a career. As of late, I accepted a much anticipated job working for Bundu bashers. They give tours all over the Southwest, to many National Parks, and I really look forward to giving this company by best effort, for the last part of the season… The job goes until the mid part of November or whenever the tours die down. More and more, I feel comfortable working as a tour guide, and educating people about the Southwest and its history. The real reward from this type of work is all the wonderful people that I get to meet, who are coming from all over to see and experience a beauty that has been my back yard and stomping ground, my whole life! It was amazing and fulfilling to work as a wilderness guide in Grand Canyon. The Creator has truly blessed my life!

Tonight, I just got back from the family ranch where I was cutting Alabaster stone, and down-sizing it for our ndn customers. The stone was excellent, it almost rang like a church bell! That is the sign of good carving Alabaster. I’ve been thinking hard about sculpting more stone, as this is a resource, available at my finger tips. Are there any beautiful female stone carvers out there, that would be interested in a guy like me!?

Anyways, I’m really trying to frequent my blog more often and post. I even changed the layout! There’s little things that are driving me through the wall though, about the design. It’ll take time to iron it out to my liking. Rome was not built in a day.

I love life, I really do!!!

A Slight Hint of Autumn

by

Autumn is coming. The rain was cold yesterday, but I’m always wearing cowboy-cut wranglers which provide good insulation. In the dead heat of Central Arizona, I’m wearing blue jeans, good protection against rattlers and thorny bushes. The trees in town are still dark lush green. The oak on the mountain has not turned yellow, yet. Autumn is a season for whirl-winds and dust-devils, which I see more of in September and October. The harvest brings warm weather but colder nights on Southern Utah’s high desert. It is a choice time for camping in Canyon Country. The heat isn’t so intense and the threat of flash flooding is small. The monsoon storms are quieting down. And soon the rattlers and blow snakes will hibernate, together. The landscape will become still, with a rush of autumn leaves in the wind.

This weekend, my brother, his wife, and I, are going camping for my birthday. I turn twenty-six. In many ways, I still feel very young, but the days are creeping by. Will I ever find another person to share my life? The loneliness does not bother me, which surprises a few. I’m actually very content. Folks are saying to me, hop on the band-wagon, get married, have a bunch of kids! That’s fine, I’m in no rush! That is the small town mentality of Utah. It ain’t uncommon to see a family of twelve walking down the street. There’s a Brady-Bunch in every extended family!

Joe’s wife has never been camping without a tent! She’s a city girl from Mesa, but not so sophisticated. She’s become countrified by Southern Utah culture. With a slip of the tongue I’ve already heard the words, ain’t, gots, reckon, and ya’all! She promised my brother she would sleep in the desert, under the stars, without a tent! We’re going to Toroweap, Calf Creek Falls, or the San Rafael Swell? It’s my decision. She’s never been to the Toroweap Overlook, in Grand Canyon – A 3,500 foot drop to the Colorado River.

About the Great Change

by

I believe in the existence of aliens, bigfoot, and most other phenomena. I think it naive to say nothing is there, because we live in a universe where the possibilities are infinite. Just look at the stars on a clear night out in the middle of nowhere! We do not always understand what is happening in our world, but it should be our responsibility to observe nature. Those mysterious entities may be spiritual manifestations, warning us! The earth is teaming with life, but even the power of life is unknown. Can science even begin to tell us about the soul and meaning of life? Hell no!

For a long time now, I have ventured into the wild, avoiding the every day rut. When I enter a mega-store, I feel the artificiality of our pop-culture, the greed of our doing, and I see all this ugly consumerism trying to drown me in its depths. Is this a culture of greed? Yes. I will not conform. I will not accept the status quo. My enemies are those that destroy beauty.

I’ve listened to the silence of deep canyons, of isolated desert landscapes. The beauty keeps me alive and moving. The natural world seems to be telling us that a great and powerful change is on the way…

The physical warnings are the earth quakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, and record weather patterns. These are physical precursors. All over the world, things are not the same any more. It is undeniable. People are gathering who hear the mysteries. A growing chorus of them are trying to do something about it. When I was down on the Colorado River, they were talking about strange things going on in the canyon! They say there is more radiation in the Grand Canyon then ever before.

Perhaps more folks will see the mysteries of the unknown, as time draws further towards a close. I’m moving away from the consumerism and secularism, and from those that say there is no spiritual power in this world! That is how I’ve become personally sovereign. Even my personal relationship with the Creator has been a lonely one, but it is strong. My advice, follow the roots of truth, and listen to the unknown!

Thinking of New Mexico

by

I feel the winds of New Mexico up here in Utah, I think the time draws near for me to spend a season or so in that country? I’m thinking of moving to Santa Fe, Gallup, or Farmington, and get out of Utah for a while. I think when I go to settle down it will be over in Blanding, or Moab, Utah. I really like the high desert country of the enchanted state. So much beauty!

Always live life to the fullest. Never quit or fall short of the goals you set, or the dreams you have. Go all the way, the whole way. Life really is too short. I’ve fulfilled two goals of mine; living and working in the Grand Canyon, and running the entire length of the Colorado River in Grand Canyon! Another goal of mine is to live within Canyon Lands National Park for a year. How do I go about achieving this?

Yes, New Mexico is a happy thought, tonight.

The Old Ranch House

by

Our ranch house was never finished, it is a dream that remains incomplete. Construction began in the late 80’s but money problems hindered us from ever finishing it. Luckily my grand parents have a small home in Parowan, Utah. I live in Cedar City, and work for them part time. The ranch has the silence of a ghost town and the building itself is aging slowly. All around lay huge piles of Alabaster that we’ve collected and hauled in over the years. Native artisans from all over the Southwest travel to our stone yard to buy or trade for Alabaster carving stone. It is located near the town of Summit, Utah; between Cedar City, and Parowan. If you are traveling down I-15 and approach the Summit exit, look for a cinder pit mine to the south on the mountain, right below is the ranch. You’ll see all the rocks! It is not a business where we’ve made the greatest living. We have struggled like most other folks. In the winter months, life grows difficult with no customers coming for several months at a time. The Alabaster has allowed us to survive, though. There is something associated with the stone that adds to the silence. In the hills that surround our little ranch lays ancient ruins, rock art sites, scattered fire pits, and so many other things. All of Iron County seems entrenched in those ancient remnants!

By default, we like to call our retreat; Meadowlark Ranch, because of all the birds that congregate there. My grandfather emulates the meadowlark and sings, Summit… is a pretty little place! We have a 78 acre piece of land with a meadow to the east end of the property. Mule Deer gather in fall and winter to use it throughout the cold months, so we have a horrendous problem with poachers. Over the years I’ve spent hiking around the property, I’ve come across deer that were shot dead for no reason at all except to have their antlers removed. When I was younger, I seen two dead bucks leaned up against each other and stuffed in a basalt crevice with the antlers sawed off. Such experiences really anger me. I cannot stop stereotyping the rednecks that do this. They are the worst breed of Southern Utah White Trash; they are those that destroy the soul of the wild. Damn them!

The Ghosts of Braffits Creek

by

I spent a day in the silence of our ranch, reliving some those experiences that still lurk on the outer edges of time and space. A supernatural wind howled and groaned, pushing cloudships across blue sky, and causing the empty ranch house to creak. Alone, I felt an intense euphoria as if something from the deep hills had come to pay me a visit! There’s a canyon nearby, Win Canyon, and Braffits Creek trickles down the left fork. The brush and undergrowth chokes the creek bottom, all the way up into the aspen and pine forests above. Braffits Creek may not seem like much, but to our family, it is somewhat sacred. We have stories that originate from there; even I have had personal experiences while hiking and exploring the area.

Braffits Creek is truly a strange place… My uncle and I came out of there late one summer night, with experiences that are hard to describe, like a child’s footprint in the middle of a mud bar near the creek, or the crazy laughter of an unknown animal rushing through the dense bushes. How do you describe those experiences? Will folks ever believe? In so many way, I’ve allowed those amazing experiences to fade into history.

Navajoland and Beyond…

by

I have the wanderlust bug. There are so many places that I want visit. My dream is to move around the Southwest, and visit all those desert landscapes between Los Angeles and Santa Fe. I’ve admired those hitch-hikers that travel great American highways, like the famous, but deceased, Chris McCandless…

I have become somewhat a transient, myself. Not like those folks that spent so much personal time in isolation. I haven’t always been the best of friends and have fallen short of promises to keep, but I constantly need the human element. I depend on human acquaintances, friendships, and close family. I go to them for social replenishment, even nurturing, but often fail to return the favor. Without people in my life, I would be a dead man.

Instead of hitch-hiking, which I did a little in my teen years, I prefer to drive a camouflage-brown Samurai all over the West. This last summer, I spent a lot of time in Navajoland. I pick up every hitch-hiker out there on the rez, just to visit. Going places and meeting new people is always worth every mile. The summer before, I gave one of our stone customers a ride clear from Cedar City down to Tuba City. It was a good excuse to travel. He is one of our long-time customers, who had hitched a ride all the way up to our rock yard from off the rez. He needed sculpting Alabaster bad enough, and so I volunteered to drive him home. Later on, I went to an event in Flag, then headed up to camp near Lake Powell, in the hills north of Big Water. All the while, the suit and tie people continue to flourish and so do I! Not many people have the opportunity to wander all over tarnation, surely what this means is to experience true freedom instead of an illusion…

I made two very unique trips to Navajoland and Hopiland this summer. I drove on back roads around Big Mountain and Black Mesa. One major reason was to see the gaping wounds of Peabody Coal, one of the largest strip mining operations in the West. The first trip started in Chinle; I drove up through Keams Canyon, entering Hopi Territory. Just before dusk, I left the small village of Shungopovi and journeyed all night, careful not to rush. The stars were enormous in the heavens, there were deep ruts in a dirt road that leads to the coal fields. The wash-boards were nightmarish. Small communities, homes, and ranches were dispersed all over. Out there, folks seem to worry about outside travelers, reminding me of people back home… While checking the oil, three different individuals had stopped out of concern. One guy asks if I was lost and another wanted to know if my engine was having trouble.

After traversing some of those roads, I cannot imagine what it would be like to commute these routes on a daily or weekly basis; having to haul water or go to work, etc!? The nearest highway is 20-40 miles away. Approaching Peabody Coal Mine in the middle of the night with bright orange industrial lights was coming face to face with a monstrous and fiery industrial dragon that pierces wilderness at the very heart. It’s all found on top of a high plateau covered in Juniper, Pinion, and Cedar. Big Mountain and Black Mesa are at the heart of the Navajo Nation. It is an area considered sacred to Navajo people. On my second trip out there, it was mid day, and the landscape changed. It didn’t look as bad. The hills surrounding the mines were green with sage. Healthy monsoon clouds poke-a-dotted the sky. The air was fresh. It tasted and smelled good. Of course looks are deceiving, I’m aware of that!

+ More