After a few games of rotation pool with my friend Viviano Jacquez, a reformed sheepherder turned dude wrangler (a dubious reform), I am glad to leave the last of those smoky dens around midnight and to climb into my pickup and take the long drive north and east back to the silent rock, the unbounded space and the sweet clean air of my outpost in the Arches. The dull, painful creaking of the branches in the wind indicates, however, an internal effort at liberation. Such things for example as the grasp of a childs hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of friend or lover, the silk of a girls thigh, the sunlight on rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind what else is there? High wind blowing now drives the sparks from our fire over the rim, into the velvet abyss. Lees Ferry. To others I can only say that if the book has virtues they cannot be disentangled from the faults; that there is a way of being wrong which is also sometimes necessarily right. Look at it this way, fellows nobody lives forever. Delicate, wind-whipped clouds flow across the burning blue, moving in perfect unison like the fish in the pools below. Consider the sentiments of Charles Marion Russell, the cowboy artist, as quoted in John Hutchens, I have been called a pioneer. For myself I hold no preference among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. How do, He grinned through the dust. First of all, Moon-Eye had suffered. For company on the way I have my thoughts and the flutterings and cries of a great horned owl that chooses, for reasons of its own, to follow me for much of the distance. He was a big horse and that moon-glazed eye was not comforting. We go on, past the old cabin at French Spring and through the woods and past the flowery meadows now gray beneath a mist of snow and rain. Instant downloads of all 1715 LitChart PDFs The original text plus a side-by-side modern translation of. Closing in on the beach, I jump out and wade ashore, towing the boats onto the sand. Moon-Eye is very shy. I stirred myself, got up painfully, and stepped out of the wreckage of the juniper. Was he real or only a bad dream? The rabbit huddles there, panting, ears back, one bright eye on me. I sit down to rest, daydreaming of iced limeade, chilled tomato juice, Moorish fountains. How can I deny it? Worst of all he skimps on food. In the lateral canyons we sometimes see thickets of Gambel oak and occasional cottonwoods with gray elephantine trunks and bright clear-green leaves, delicately suspended, trembling in the air. Another type of spring may be found on canyon walls where water seeps out between horizontal formations through cracks thinner than paper to support small hanging gardens of orchids, monkeyflower, maidenhair fern, and ivy. Kind of lonesome? Floyd asks. Whether crude or elegant, representational or abstract, very old or relatively new, all of the work was done in a manner pleasing to contemporary taste, with its vogue for the stylized and primitive. [15] In Episodes and Visions, Abbey meditates on religion, philosophy, and literature and their intersections with desert life, as well as collects various thoughts on the tension between culture and civilization, espousing many tenets in support of environmentalism. The flow may reappear farther down the canyon, surfacing briefly for a second time, a third time, diminishing in force until it vanishes completely and for good. I come out on the surface of a rolling plain of cross-bedded sandstone, the petrified dunes of the Navajo formation, and win the view Id been hoping for. Should I give the rabbit a sporting chance, that is, jump it again, try to hit it on the run? I take off but before Im out of earshot I hear a curious thumping noise. Infected and victimized. And in a couple of weeks you wont even stink anymore and after a couple of months therell be nothing left but your mangled hide and your separated bones and get this, Moon-Eye get the picture way out in eternity somewhere, on the far side of the sun, theyll hang up a brass plaque with the image of your moon-eyed soul stamped on it. Above and beyond the rimrock, blue in shadow and amber-gold in light, are alcoves, domes and royal arches, part of the sandstone flanks of Navajo Mountain. We can breathe. Here I find the track of a coyote superimposed on the path of many deer. It looks too steep. But he was an old one. Look, the party chief explained, you. I put on dry socks and moccasins, and cook my supper: refried pinto beans with chile and a number of eggs, a potato baked in tinfoil. Seven miles past Big Water Spring you come to The Maze overlook and thats the end of the trail. He turns around and walks back. This at least is what I tell myself when I fix my attention on what is rational, sensible and realistic, believing that I have overcome at last that gallant infirmity of the soul called romance that illness, that disease, that insidious malignancy which must be chopped out of the heart once and for all, ground up, cooked, burnt to ashes consumed. A difficult transitional period. ROCK AND TREE AND CLOUD, THE DEAD MAN AT He lay still on his back in the shadows, looking up at the scarp over which he had fallen. Employers like that; but it would be false to say that Viviano is exploited. Much of the time they spent making a road for the truck, hacking through juniper stands, filling in washouts or blasting a hole down through rimrock in order to reach a slope. A large stain discolors the crotch of his trousers. When I take him outside into the wind and sunshine his favorite place seems to be inside my shirt, where he wraps himself around my waist and rests on my belt. I crawl along a narrow shelf to one side and watch him free himself from the rope and disappear below among the crevices and boulders. Desert Solitaire is a book about shortcuts; the shortcuts in our lives that allow us to circumnavigate hardship and instead veer as quickly as possible towards comfort and ease; the shortcuts we carve through the land and resources of this world; and the shortcuts that we as the United States of America take towards a more profitable . I choose to test their belief by experiment. Abbey calls this development Industrial Tourism, and he rails against it. It aint just mud, he said. Others have been here before. In the morning the wind is still blowing, its much colder, and the entire sky is dark with storm clouds threatening rain or possibly, judging by the chill in the air, even snow. Three ravens are wheeling near the balanced rock, squawking at each other and at the dawn. I wait. Next I built a, The housetrailer serves now chiefly as storage place and kitchen. That sounds grand and dramatic but then why not Tablets of the Sun, equally so? MichaelDecker55. It began as a dim toneless resonance in the distance, like the sound made by a train entering the far end of a very long tunnel. When he was gone the Husk family discussed their new friend and all agreed that he seemed like a very fine person, again except for the boy who thought he smiled too much.. Abbey obsessively tracks him down one day, and when he finds him, he and the horse enter a standoff that lasts hours. Or the abandoned articles may have been under a curse, associated with disease and death. Perhaps. The drop-off over the white rim is too far for our rope but about a mile to the east we find a break in the caprock where we can descend to the dark-red stratum below. Stars which are unusually bold and close, with an icy glitter in their light glints of blue, emerald, gold. We waited then, the horse and I, enduring the endless afternoon, the heartbreaking heat, and passed the time as best we could in one-sided conversation. Like a sponge I soaked up moisture through every pore, letting the current bear me along beneath a canopy of overhanging willow trees. I dont mean the town itself, of course, but the country which surrounds it the canyonlands. Chapter-by-chapter summaries and multiple sections of expert analysis, The ultimate resource for assignments, engaging lessons, and lively book discussions. LitCharts Teacher Editions. Better, in fact. Balanced on a point of equilibrium, hesitating, the world of the high desert turns toward summer. ), 4. Once caught by this golden lure you become a prospector for life, condemned, doomed, exalted. Directly eastward we can see the blue and hazy La Sal Mountains, only sixty miles away by line of sight but twice that far by road, with nothing whatever to suggest the fantastic, complex and impassable gulf that falls between here and there. I have plenty of time before sundown for another hike. The air is hot, clear, dry and our canteens nearly empty; weve taken three hours in the descent. (Again, everything is subject to change.). Progress has come at last to the Arches, after a million years of neglect. They never looked in the right direction, he would later explain, bitterly. It would be unforgivably presumptuous to pretend to speak. Good man, I thought, heading at once for the nearest shade, where I tied my horse to a log, unsaddled, and dropped. Far more interesting is the distinction to be made between civilization and culture. Overlay the nation with a finely reticulated network of communications, airlines and interstate. Though all the windows are wide open and the blinds rattle in a breeze the heat is terrific. Yes, its a good job. At one place on the canyon wall I find three arches or natural bridges, one above another, all three spanning the same drainage chute. In my pickup truck, badly shaken by a long drive down one of the roughest roads in Utah, we carry camping gear, enough grub for two weeks, and two little rubber boats folded up in suitcase-size cartons. The melted ice-cream effect again Neapolitan ice cream. Not satisfied with the enormous silt trap and evaporation tank called Lake Mead (back of Boulder Dam) they have created another even bigger, even more destructive, in Glen Canyon. Which brings me to the final aspect of the problem of Industrial Tourism: the Industrial Tourists themselves. We are indeed enjoying a very intimate relation with the river: only a layer of fabric between our bodies and the water. Refine any search. It has humor. Gasping for air Billy-Joe crawled onto the trunk and rode it all the way through the canyon, all the way while boulders clashed in the foam beneath him and slabs of sandstone shook free of their ancient fastenings, spalled from the cliffs and crashed with a sound like thunder into the heave and roar of the flood. Gratefully I empty the overflowing garbage cans, read the soggy old newspapers we believe that the Constitution of the United States has finally expired collect the scattered beer cans and soda pop cans and burn them, along with the garbage, in the dump. What does accessibility mean? Afterwards I hoist the Stars and Stripes to the top of the flagpole up at the entrance station. Let them and leave them alone theyll survive for a few more thousand years, more or less, without any glorification from us. The mountains are covered with forest; the plateaus are also forested, at the higher elevations with aspen and yellowpine and farther down with pinyon and juniper; but as you descend through the lateral canyons toward the great river the pinyon and juniper yield to sagebrush and other shrubs; from that to yucca, prickly pear and ephedra; and from that, nearing the river, to almost nothing but scattered clumps of saltbush and blackbrush and the fragile annuals snakeweed, mule-ear sunflowers, and other widely dispersed rain-dependent growths, separated from each other by open spaces of nothing but sand and rock. What do you think youre up to anyway? Without starting the motor he disengaged the clutch, took the truck out of gear and turned the wheels downhill. I know, for I was one of the lucky few (there could have been thousands more) who saw Glen Canyon before it was drowned. What else do we need? This flower is indeed irresistibly attractive to insects; I have yet to look into one and not find a honeybee or bumblebee wallowing drunkenly inside, powdered with pollen, glutting itself on what must be a marvelous nectar. In the light of the stars I walk through tall, dewy grass past a stone fireplace which I remember well, for I am the one who built it, to the edge of a brook. If there are midget rattlers in the area there may be diamondbacks too five, six or seven feet long, thick as a mans wrist, dangerous. He tramped bitterly, soggily, toward the mens room and disappeared in a dim, rancid, yellowish light. (Gold a very heavy metal, specific gravity 19.3.) A man could be a lover and defender of the wilderness without ever in his lifetime leaving the boundaries of asphalt, powerlines, and right-angled surfaces. You hear me, Moon-Eye? Sunsets each evening that test a mans credulity great gory improvisations in scarlet and gold that remind me of nothing so much as Gods own celestial pizza pies. Nothing. So I went down into Havasu fourteen miles by trail and looked things over. But they are home-loving insects; once over the bridge and away from the slimy little creek you leave them behind. The cabin stands on the banks of the unpotable waters of Salt Creek, a shallow stream on a bed of quicksand. Never came back at all. Arriving at his trailer in Arches National Monument, where hell live and work for the summer, Abbey notes the surrounding wildlife and accepts the fact that hell be sharing his space with the animals who inhabit the area. As anyone knows who has tried to carve his name in rock, the task requires persistence, patience, determination and skill. There was nobody, nobody at all, on the other side of the table. 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The Colorado River and its tributary the Green, with their vast canyons and labyrinth of drainages, lie below the level of the plateau on which we are approaching them, under the ledge, as they say in Moab. (The boom will not last, of course, but this is forgotten. Stepping harder on the gas I speed over the sand flats at 65 mph, trailing a funnel of dust about a mile and a half long. I become aware that the great horned owl near Balanced Rock has stopped calling; presumably he has found a satisfactory dinner. The spray hits our faces and closes vision, the waves come aboard, in a moment we are soaking wet and spinning through the heart of the turmoil, bouncing off one rock and into the next. Abbey explores the problems and possibilities of using language to write about nature. When Abbey is lounging in his chair in 110-degree heat at Arches and observes that the mountains are snow-capped and crystal clear, it shows what nature provides: one extreme is able to counter another. What shall we name those four unnamed formations standing erect above this end of The Maze? But the joke still points to an important truth about how words distort the world: Abbey laments that since language is human-made, when people use it to describe or understand nature, they are in fact defeating natures nonhuman essence. Thats what the first taste of the wild does to a man, after having been too long penned up in the city. combative? He saw the stars caught in a dense sky like moths in a cobweb, alive, quivering, struggling to escape. It is so far away, that merged point of light, that unless you watch it steadily you will not perceive that it is in motion; relative to the distance the light moves as the stars move or about as fast as the sun fades from the sky or the fire consumes the log. It would be like Ohio, wet and humid and hydrological, all covered with cabbage farms and golf courses. Nothing. Fear betrays the rabbit to the great horned owl. Not so much from choice as from necessity I generally prefer to go into places where no one else wants to go. What have we lost? Were the inhabitants actually destroyed by the enemies they had always dreaded? Capitol Reef National Monument. I put on boots and shirt, stuffed some cheese and raisins in my pocket, and went for a walk. As I prepare for a days hike up the Escalante I can hear Ralph muttering something about channel cat; I pay no attention. By Labor Day, Abbey discovers that the tourists he hates so much are not so bad. Grandeur, color, spaciousness, the power of the ancient and elemental, that which lies beyond the ability of man to wholly grasp or utilize, these qualities all three share. I rolled up my sleeping bag and in the filtered light of the stars followed the trail that wound through thickets of cactus and up around ledges to the terrace above the mining camp. A weird, lovely, fantastic object out of nature like Delicate Arch has the curious ability to remind us like rock and sunlight and wind and wilderness that. The splendid new rapids thus created we will name Floyd E. Dominy Falls, in honor of the chief of the Reclamation Bureau; a more suitable memorial could hardly be devised for such an esteemed and loyal public servant. Well, Ranger Abbey, says Merle, how do you like it out here in the middle of nowhere?. Houston etc. And then the sun appears, its hydrogen cauldrons brimming so to speak with plasmic fires, and the tyranny of its day begins. We mounted again, rode on to the head of the canyon where a forty-foot overhang barred the way, turned and rode back the way wed come, clearing out the cattle from the brush and tamarisk thickets, driving them before us in a growing herd as we proceeded. This wont do. Despite such unfair competition the more persevering among the amateur prospectors, climbing over the landscape with their cheap little Geiger counters in hand, sometimes succeeded in finding a source of radiation all their own. Blackbrush, I observe, the common variety, sprinkled with tightly rolled little green buds, ready to burst into bloom on short notice. Known nationally as a champion of the individual and one of America's foremost defenders of the natural environment, he was the author of twenty books, both fiction and nonfiction, including. Like certain aspects of this music, the desert is also a-tonal, cruel, clear, inhuman, neither romantic nor classical, motionless and emotionless, at one and the same time another paradox both agonized and deeply still. Far better to have stayed at home with the TV and a case of beer. The orange juice is frozen, the milk slushy with ice. One begins to understand why Everett. We keep watch but see a dozen lovely and mysterious grottoes, all equally beguiling, pass up some, let the current rush us by others, and finally end up by choosing the wrong one. A bunch of cattle in the road. Close to the river now, down in the true desert again, the heat begins to come through; we peel off our shirts before going on. After that he stayed out of box canyons and came down to the creek only when he needed a drink. For example, the last time I was in Kayenta I witnessed the following incident: One of the old men, one of the old Longhairs with a Mongolian mustache and tall black hat, is standing in the dust and sunlight in front of the Holiday Inn, talking with two of his wives. Since we have missed Music Temple I am more determined than ever that we must not pass Forbidden Canyon and the trail to Rainbow Bridge, climax and culmination of any trip into Glen Canyon. Contents Desert Solitaire is a collection of treatises and autobiographical excerpts describing Abbey's experiences as a park ranger and wilderness enthusiast in 1956 and 1957. He soars around and around in expanding spirals, lingering at a thousand feet above the landscape, bleak eyes missing nothing that moves below. Too much for some, who have given up the struggle on the highways, in exchange for an entirely different kind of vacation out in the open, on their own feet, following the quiet trail through forests and mountains, bedding down in the evening under the stars, when and where they feel like it, at a time where the Industrial Tourists are still hunting for a place to park their automobiles. Im not inferring this he told me so. The mornings therefore, as I started to say and meant to say, are all the sweeter in the knowledge of what the afternoon is likely to bring. He cannot be held responsible for any of the opinions expressed herein, but he is responsible for much of what understanding I have of a country we both love. Whimpering, Billy-Joe pressed his hand to his eyes and felt the joints of his bones grate together like glass. Too much for some, who have given up the struggle on the highways in exchange for an entirely different kind of vacation out in the open, on their own feet, following the quiet trail through forest and mountains, bedding down at evening under the stars, when and where they feel like it, at a time when the Industrial Tourists are still hunting for a place to park their automobiles. Beyond the side canyon the walls rise up again, slick and monolithic, in color a blend of pink, buff, yellow, orange, overlaid in part with a glaze of desert varnish (iron oxide) or streaked in certain places with vertical draperies of black organic stains, the residue from plant life beyond the rim and from the hanging gardens that flourish in the deep grottoes high on the walls. The dead mans nephew, excused from this duty, walks far ahead out of earshot. That screen of words, that veil of ideas, issuing from the brain like a sort of mental smog that keeps getting between a man and the world, obscuring vision. It was a steep, shadowy, extremely narrow defile with the usual meandering course and overhanging walls; from where I stood, near its head, I could not tell if the route was feasible all the way down to the floor of the main canyon. Instant downloads of all 1715 LitChart PDFs the original text plus a side-by-side translation... 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