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Driving into the Desert

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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. …

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Land of the Nuwuvi

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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 …

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The Cold is Coming

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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

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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 …

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Go into the Wilderness My Friend

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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

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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 …

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Thanks to the Folks that Make My Day!

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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 …

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Between Sleeping and Waking

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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. …

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Over in Page

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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 …

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A Supernatural Wind

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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

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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 …

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A Slight Hint of Autumn

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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 …

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About the Great Change

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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 …

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Thinking of New Mexico

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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 …

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The Old Ranch House

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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 …

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The Ghosts of Braffits Creek

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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 …

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Navajoland and Beyond…

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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 …

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Speaking of This Beauty

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There are so many good things in life like the sunset that bathes the sandstone mittens of Monument Valley, Arizona, or the soft whistle of a meadow lark on the high desert of Southern Utah. The clouds are constantly changing while the rock filled landscapes change slowly beyond our reality in geological time. It would be a once-in-a-lifetimes experience to witness a natural rock slide from the side of a granite mountain, or weathering mesa. These deserts of the Southwest endure the hottest summers and most frigid winters, but their surfaces soak in the deepest evening sunlight of every sunset, …

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On the Way to Tuba City, AZ

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It was cool enough this morning, but the sun is now cooking the desert alive and I’m sweating pretty badly. Venturing across Navajoland, I come across the aged shell of an abandoned gas station bathed in graffiti. One mural is two large eagle feathers tide together, with the phrase, STILL HERE, sprayed in red paint below. On the other side K-Town is written, slang for Kayenta, a town close to the east. The wind is cutting through the power lines along the highway and the monster cottonwood creaks. There’s a bunch of dogs barking from a nearby residence while an …

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Traveling and Moving Around

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I’ve been moving around the Southwest far from home. The first journey was a 1,600 mile loop around Arizona passing Hoover Dam, traveling along Route 66, down through Prescott, and as far south as Tucson. This is around the time my brother was getting married to a girl from Mesa, Arizona. On the ancient Colorado, I had the opportunity to be Swamper for Arizona River Runners for one trip and worked my tail off. That is because one of the gals that was susposed to go had a medical condition at the last moment. So this oppurtunity was pretty rare …

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Last Day at Bar 10, Tomorrow

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Well it’s my last two days at the ranch, ten miles from Grand Canyon. Where my path goes from here, is unknown. Bruce at Arizona River Runners is giving me the chance to run the Colorado this summer. It looks like a dream coming true, finally! After an experience on the river, I’ll have enough material to stay busy writing for a while. Tomorrow is the last day for me, so I’ll make it the best one of them all. Today, the desert was a furnace. The mens bunkhouse felt like a greenhouse in Death Valley. There’s honey bees and …

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Bad News

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Every river company I have spoken with have no volunteer work available for folks like me. Yet, river guides like Tom Vail are telling me that I must go down the river 6-10 times as a volunteer before I can be considered for any real job on the river. Maybe I’ll go down the Colorado like good old Buzz Holmstrom; a man with real courage, who by himself, traversed the entire length of the Grand Canyon. It’s larger then life and I am forced to dream. I’m tired of dreaming, I want a piece of the action, thrill, and beauty. …

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Slow Moving Storm

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Buzzing power lines cut the wind The wind howls and moans as darkness grows. Winter pushes spring feelings away, And brings dark cloud ships that hug mountains, shrouding them in eerie mist. Fog enters the desert basin. Mule Deer gather in cottonwood groves. Flakes of snow start to invade. The sun’s heat has faded. The storm moves slow. By morning, theres eighteen inches of Fresh powder and growing.

Far from Civilization

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Last week the boss gave me a chance to go out alone on a quad, so I packed some food, water, and a camera and left to explore some of the real remote parts of the Grand Canyon. I stopped and looked out over Parashant Canyon, went up to Whitmore Point, and explored countless ranch roads. There is nothing like feeling solitude in the most isolated pockets of Grand Canyon. You don’t feel the same when others are with you. The beauty and aloneness is unrivaled. I spent the majority of time scouting cliff edges, deep ravines, and spiraling canyons. …

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Fact is Stranger then Fiction

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I am always reminding myself that fact is stranger then fiction, it gives me the ability to have faith in the unbelievable. It is not hard to feel the power of this world, but the truth isn’t always in reach. There is a strong force running through my veins to seek the unknown. I have the oppurtunity to experience the world, by the grace of God, and seek infinite truth. Life itself is a miracle and a mystery. The quote below is from a movie titled; Second Hand Lions. It carries a lot of weight in my book. Truth is …

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Out of the Woodwork

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In three months my job is done. It is a stepping stone to achieve greater things, and I am thankful to the folks at Bar 10. I’ve been a tour guide sense August. When April swings around, I’m going camping for a week, alone. I’m tired of people. It’s time to be alone in the pines. One day I’ll start looking for a companion, but I don’t feel the time is right now. This morning I awakened from a strange and terrible dream. But I don’t mention these things often, as dreams are very personal. The events in a dream …

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Quiet December Night

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It’s another dark night at the ranch, in the lodge. I’m spending the evening alone, but I love the isolation and personal time out here. A few minutes ago, I got back from turning the generator off for the night. The batteries have enough juice to power a few lights, the T.V., and the computer in the lodge. They are generous to allow me to use their PC, which uses a satillite connection. It’s dark in the deep desert. The grand canyon is covered in black with nothing but the stars. The moon will probably come out later. A bobcat …

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A Few Wintry Thoughts

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The frigid weather that hung around for a while is now passing. It’s warming up. It was nice in the sun, here in Cedar. So I took my dog and went for a drive out into the desert. At night, I’m dreaming again like when I was younger. These dreams are very real and inspire me to write something tonight. As for today, my brother and I devoured pizza for lunch on top of a parking lot roof, downtown, while watching smoke rise from chimneys into the blue sky. The mountains and the desert sprawled beyond the outskirts of town. …

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The Company of a Woman

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I was storytelling with a co-worker tonight over at the old ranch house around a burning pile of weeds. The fire reminded me of simpler things; the isolation of the canyon, the smell of the elements, and all the mysteries of the surrounding mountains. Not too far north of the ranch is Hell-Hole wilderness where people rarely visit except for the occasional hunter or prospector. Up in there, it gets real dense with stands of Ponderosa Pine and hearty clusters of Manzanita. I’m thinking of the intense quiet and the dark shadows. I’ve been spending enough time in Whitmore Wash …

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Looking for Pollywogs

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Tonight’s an evening at the ranch that becomes eerie. We left the lodge late in the afternoon to catch spade-footed pollywogs at a nearby pond. We started telling stories about shapeshifters, if you know what I mean? It’s not easy sleeping when you dwell on such things. Crickets and frogs start sounding louder. Every little movement, voice, drop of water, becomes an atmospheric sound scape. The night is surreal. I’m sleeping a lone out in the bunk house; no crew are staying over. Just the boss, his wife, and me. As we strolled into the ranch after dark, all the …

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