Thursday, December 8th, 2011
Sunday, October 30th, 2011: 2011 Trips, Colorado Plateau, Regions, Road Trips.
Day 6: Bullfrog Creek to Escalante
Highlights: Hike into the Grand Gulch of Halls Creek, monumental slot canyons
The night before, I’d found a campsite after sunset, right along the Burr Trail where it crests a narrow point overlooking Bullfrog Creek. Definitely one of the more spectacular campsites I’ve had, and no traffic during the night on this remote road.
I was in completely new territory now. The new morning, I slowly explored north and took the first significant turnoff to get to something that looked interesting on the map. It turned out to be another monumental canyon at the south end of the Waterpocket Fold, and I hiked down into it, another steep trail dropping hundreds of feet, this time into a lush, broad valley.
I continued on the trail toward what was supposed to be Brimhall Arch, apparently a natural arch somewhere back in those tilted sandstone cliffs. The trail entered a dark slot canyon that became darker and colder as I went, zigging and zagging, with an interesting combination of forest and desert vegetation. I got to a “pouroff”, a sheer cliff like a stairstep to the higher part of the canyon, and there was an amazing rock ladder that had been built, apparently so you could climb the cliff. The cliff was over 20′ tall, and the ladder went up about 12′ of it, literally a carefully balanced tower of small rocks. There I was again, facing danger alone. But it was so cool, I couldn’t pass it up. Some very careful climbing, a reach for an overhanging limb and some intuitive bouldering at the top, and I was up. I figured on the way back down, I could rely more on the tree limbs.
Unfortunately, within a short distance I ran into an impassable barrier: a flooded slot canyon with sheer walls. I never even got to see the arch.
Somehow I made it down the cliff and out into the valley again. I ran into a younger couple heading for the arch, warned them about the cliff and the flooded place, and had an idyllic lunch under golden cottonwoods before climbing out of the Gulch.
Another long drive back to the Burr Trail, then driving at risky speed in order to somewhat mitigate the washboarded gravel. With my truck rattling for dear life, I was passed by four big diesel trucks in succession, all towing full-size stock trailers loaded with cattle, all driving much faster than me, apparently racing to get their stock to the Bullfrog Ferry to ferry them to market across the Colorado River in Arizona. It was a somewhat surprising evocation of history, since the Burr Trail was originally created by a rancher at Boulder, UT, to get his stock from the high Aquarius Plateau down to the ferry and hence to Arizona markets. I wondered if these guys had driven their full trailers down the famous switchbacks, on which trailers are strongly discouraged, for good reason, as I found out later, going up.
Up the famous switchbacks, a long drive over high, juniper-covered plateaus, and then down the outrageously scenic Long Canyon, stopping at one point to admire a statuesque cottonwood, only to find a beautiful, sanctuary-like slot canyon lined with soft sand right off the highway. Here, I encountered lots of tourists, even late in the season. Living where I live, I’m spoiled by the absence of yuppies, and it depresses me to encounter them and their stylish consumer goods. It seemed that my trip might be going in the wrong direction. But there was no turning back.
That evening, driving down Highway 12 from Boulder to Escalante, on an incredibly dramatic, narrow high bench overlooking deep canyons on either side, I pulled off the highway to snap a quick picture, and immediately behind me, three big black luxury SUVs also pulled off, and out jumped a couple dozen young Japanese men, all wearing black leather jackets. At first I thought I was caught in the middle of a movie shoot about drug gangs, but they were all smiling and just wanted their own quick snapshots!
Monday, October 31st, 2011: 2011 Trips, Colorado Plateau, Regions, Road Trips.
Day 7: Escalante to Page
Highlights: Psychedelic rock!
To me, it seems that Capitol Reef marks a divide between extreme southeast Utah and south-central Utah. The southeastern area I’ve spent the most time in, the Henry Mountains, the Manti-LaSalle forest, and Cedar Mesa, is much less populated and much less traveled; although it’s closer to where I live, it’s farther from the big cities. When you cross west into the Escalante area you get into the crowds, because this area is much more accessible from Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Salt Lake City and Phoenix. I thought the Burr Trail was pretty remote, but even in this cold weather there were crowds at every trailhead. Escalante, although a very small town, is totally tourist-oriented. I had to stay the night there – camping is just too regulated in this area for my tastes, and I needed a restaurant meal after almost a week of canned food.
The next day, I planned to head south through the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument on one of the long backroads, hoping to find a good hike or two and maybe a campsite. The road I took turned out to be another bone-rattler, and every trailhead seemed to have multiple fancy SUVs already parked there. Finally I stopped at the Lick Wash trailhead, where there were a couple of dusty trucks parked. I loaded my pack for a day hike, and as I approached the trail, I met a guy coming out. Unlike the other fashionable yuppie hikers I’d seen on this trip, he was dressed like me – worn-out jeans, a baggy old t-shirt, and a cheap floppy hat. He was also about my age, and motioned that he lives “right over there” and hikes this trail at least once a month “to see what the trees are doing”. My kind of guy!
A mile or so down the trail in the canyon, I met an attractive, fashionably-dressed, 30-something couple heading out with an off-leash pit bull. The dog came up to meet me first, growling. I waited patiently for it to sniff me, but the girl ran up and threw down on the dog violently, rolling it onto its back and clamping its jaws with her hand. She looked up at me, smiling. “This is the first chance I’ve had to do this,” she explained proudly. I love dogs, but dog people are another thing entirely, there are so many different kinds!
Tuesday, November 1st, 2011: 2011 Trips, Colorado Plateau, Regions, Road Trips.
Day 8: Page to Silver City
Highlights: Moonscape
The night before, I had finally come out of the backcountry, me and my truck rattled to a pulp by washboard roads, looking for a campsite somewhere along the highway at the south end of the Escalante country.
I kept driving a few miles and trying turnouts, each leading to worse and worse washboard, until I finally came to the last turnoff before the Colorado River and Page.
It was a bizarre moonscape unlike anything I’d seen before, and the sun was rapidly setting. I drove up and over the rolling clay hills as night fell, and nowhere could I find a place to pull off and camp. Finally I came to a side road down a narrow canyon, and shortly encountered a flat wash where I could pull off, but it looked to be a put-in to Lake Powell, and it was a depressing place to camp. So I drove back to the highway and continued to Page, where I found another cheap motel on the “Street of the Little Motels.”
Then in the morning, before starting for home, I came back to the Smoky Mountain Road below Mustard Point and took these pictures.
Saturday, November 26th, 2011: Uncategorized.
Life has taken me to some spectacular places, introduced me to some unusual people, and taught me some memorable lessons. In the past, I’ve shared my personal stories about these trips, characters, and insights in the form of email dispatches I wrote to close family and friends. Plus, before social media, I regularly engaged in impassioned email dialogs on the issues of the day.
Now, on Facebook, whenever people pick up a hot topic and start sharing quotes from Einstein and the Dalai Lama, I definitely want to add my two cents. But my take on the world is pretty unconventional, and in many cases, if I try to comment without adequate explanation, misunderstandings are liable to proliferate. Social media just don’t allow in-depth communication.
Hence Dispatches: Status, Commentary & Reports from the Field. I’m not sure where it will go, but I’d like to start out with some stories that may help explain where I’m coming from.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think!
Dangerous Knowledge Part 1: Tired of Searching
Wednesday, December 7th, 2011: Problems & Solutions, Society.
An older artist friend recently told me, “You’re a searcher. You’ll always be searching.” That made me want to cry. I’m really, really tired of searching. I want to find what I’m looking for and be content.
I was planning to start this blog by telling the story of my intellectual journey, as a way of explaining my radical philosophy and scandalous opinions. But after a few episodes I realized the story just couldn’t be told in anything shorter than a book. And in fact, the story was not over.
More to the point, my philosophy doesn’t seem to be doing me much good. My life is still conflicted and contradictory. Maybe that mess is the real story I should be telling, in case other people are facing similar dilemmas.
Like many of my colleagues, I was a beneficiary of the dotcom boom and a victim of the dotcom bust. In 2002 I found myself out of work, broke, and in debt. Yes, everyone said the boom would come back, but I wasn’t holding my breath, and in any event, I had never intended this to be my life’s work.
Overwhelmed by life’s challenges, seeking guidance and social support, some of my friends had latched onto gurus or joined cults. But I thought I had already learned a lot of life lessons that might be useful. I decided to apply my skills and experience as an artist, scientist, philosopher and information architect to the questions that kept bugging me: What was the meaning of all these powerful, mystical dreams and visions I’d had? How could I sum up everything that I had learned in culture, society, and the natural world, and how did it all fit together? Had I accumulated any wisdom that might be useful to others? What should I do with the rest of my life, for my community and habitat as well as for my own benefit?
My youthful studies in philosophy, and many subsequent arguments with very smart people, had shown that verbal communication is fraught with difficulties; words are slippery and emotionally charged. But in early childhood, even before I learned to read and write, I’d begun to explore and make sense of my world by making pictures of it. Maturing in the bohemian milieu of San Francisco, I used art to investigate the human wreckage festering all around me. And as I fell in love with the deserts of the Southwest and studied Native American pictographs and petroglyphs, my art morphed into mysterious symbolic narratives evoking mystical dreams and visions. Finally, during the dotcom boom, I used storyboard drawings and diagrams to communicate effectively with entrepreneurs, corporate executives, writers, designers, and engineers. My inquiry would combine all of this into a new kind of art project: research through art, art as a way of investigating, perhaps even comprehending, human experience in a way that science and academia could scarcely attempt, because of their deep investment in conventional paradigms.
So – I spent much of the next five years on a project which became known as Pictures of Knowledge: a visual philosophy based primarily on direct observation and shareable experience. I summarized and organized everything I’d ever observed and learned firsthand. I delved deeper into science for points of reference. I developed a symbol lexicon and a series of fundamental pictures or models, in the timeless tradition of Tibetan mandalas or Navajo sand paintings. I talked to everyone I knew and shared my work with people in different places.
To sustain this project I had to evoke my roots in the old “counterculture” – I had to question everything, taking nothing for granted, accepting none of the assumptions which are at the root of our dominant social and cultural paradigms. If you’re not prepared to go this far, you’re probably not going to like my observations. I had to ask questions that undermine most people’s identities and ways of life, their sense of self-worth, their value systems and worldviews.
The next post will summarize what I learned!
« Previous Page — Next Page »