I put on boots and shirt, stuffed some cheese and raisins in my pocket, and went for a walk. Whirlwinds dance across the salt flats, a pillar of dust by day; the thornbush breaks into flame at night. has got another war going somewhere, I forget exactly where, on another continent as usual, and they want Waterman to go over there and fight for them. What does accessibility mean? Configurations are beginning to fade, distinctions shading off into blended amalgams of man and man, men and water, water and rock. 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. The canyon world becomes each hour more beautiful, the closer we come to its end. Its a fact, he will claim, them old timers never ate much when they was out working on the range. The word suggests the past and the unknown, the womb of the earth from which we all emerged. ), no concert halls, no books, bars, galleries, theaters or playing fields, no cathedrals of learning or high towers of finance, no wars, elections, traffic jams or other amusements, none of the multinefarious delights of what Ralph calls syphilization. When I return will it be the same? Onion Spring wears such a deceitful guise. He shuffled past them without glancing back, neither slowing nor increasing his pace. He describes how the desert affects society and more specifically the individual on a multifaceted, sensory level. Then they came again, louder and as it seemed from all sides, out of the rock itself, surrounding me. It is precisely this question which I would like to examine now. Keep going about thirty-five, forty miles till you get to an old cabin. [10], Several chapters focus on Abbey's interactions with the people of the Southwest or explorations of human history. With his dark skin and Spanish accent he is often taken for a Mexican, which he resents, because he despises Mexicans. Viviano, old Roy Scobie, theyre finished. Not far down the canyon we found the first small bunch of cows and calves. I am glad to return, several hours later, to the shelter and warmth of the housetrailer. Touch stone. My sweat dries as fast as it forms the parched air is sucking at my pores. The cut is about three hundred feet deep, blasted through solid rock with sides that are as perpendicular as the walls of a building. From downriver, as I fall asleep, comes the deep dull roar of the rapids, a sound which haunts the background of my dreams all night long. more precise results than World war II (without quotes). He vows not to apply human-centric language to nature, hoping to bring himself closer to it and to understand its mysteries more clearly. I dont know about Waterman but am certain that I could never climb that far up a rope myself. A big car rolls up a Buick Behemoth I believe it was, or it may have been a Cadillac Crocodile, a Dodge Dinosaur or a Mercury Mastodon, Im not sure which and this. Novelists, American -- 20th century -- Biography. Peeling an orange I survey the larger globe below. What do they have to sing about? Above the mesa the sun hangs behind streaks and streamers of wind-whipped clouds. Those who read this will, I hope, understand and forgive me; the others will not mind. Ask rather, is there intelligent life on earth? Even his own heritage: dumb Basko he once called himself. They are secret places deep in the canyons, known only to the deer and the coyotes and the dragonflies and a few others. Its a strange, stirring, but not uncommon thing to come on a pool at night, after an evening of thunder and lightning and a bit of rainfall, and see the frogs clinging to the edge of their impermanent pond, bodies immersed in water but heads out, all croaking away in tricky counterpoint. Because in much of the canyon country there is no ground to dig postholes in nothing but solid rock. Nothing. I got up and wandered around outside for a while, slapping at mosquitoes, and thinking. Yes. First the wind and a sinister clot of gray scud crawling over the peak; then a rain of sleet followed by hailstones that bombard me like a cascade of marbles. How much the tourist industry can add to the tribal economy, how many Indians it may eventually employ, are questions not answerable at this time. They dont disturb me and are welcome to my crumbs and leavings. Our life on earth is but the shadow of a higher life, I could tell him. And when would the road be built? He will understand what the captive Zia Indians meant when they made a song out of their sickness for home: Down the river. A few gray desert sparrows fly from one tree to the next, stop there, do not reappear. We have to climb out of the boats and drag them over a pebble-covered bar until we again reach deep water. Without shade, in the middle of the river, we must cower beneath our hats, hammered by sun and by the reflected heat and blaze from the mirrorlike sheen of the river, the hot red walls of the canyon. Abbey states that he has come to this place to confront the bare bones of existence (7) and that he dreams of a hard and brutal mysticism (7), one in contrast to any sentimental notions of nature. Furthermore, the deserts perfect clarity conceals nothing. After a couple of beers he got in his car and went for a drive. Our boats drift gradually closer and we see the first billboard ever erected in Glen Canyon. Any cow without a brand slick belonged to the finder. You wait here, I said, while I go back to Albuquerque and get the book. Bill Hoy? I get out, stretch, relieve myself. I, for one, suspect that millions of our citizens, especially the young, are yearning for adventure, difficulty, challenge they will respond with enthusiasm. [6] Cliffrose and Bayonets and Serpents of Paradise focus on Abbey's descriptions of the fauna and flora of the Arches area, respectively, and his observations of the already deteriorating balance of biodiversity in the desert due to the pressures of human settlement in the region. Consoling nevertheless, those shrunken snowfields, despite the fact that theyre twenty miles away by line of sight and six to seven thousand feet higher than where I sit. Much depends on the season. Free shipping for many products! Gently I lowered my canteen to the ground. Below the garden the cliff curves deeply inward, forming an overhang that would shelter a house; at this point the water is released from the draw of surface tension and falls free through the air in a misty, wavy spray down to the canyon floor where I stand, as in a fine shower, filling my canteen and soaking myself and drinking all at the same time. These notes were contributed by members of the GradeSaver community. But what was I wearing? Why, we ask ourselves, floating onward in effortless peace deeper into Eden, why not go on like this forever? Wind roaring out of the northwest, black clouds across the stars all I could see were clumps of brush and scattered junipers along the roadside. If it comes in time the glorious cycle is repeated; if not, this particular colony of. The water is sterile, lifeless. The wildlife has withdrawn to the night, the flies and gnats have disappeared, a few birds sing, and the last of the flowers of summer the globemallow have died. Being a cold-blooded creature, of course, he takes his temperature from that of the immediate environment in this case my body. We were only about ten miles from the stockpens near Moab, but would have to check out all the side canyons along the way. Billy-Joe stood up wanting to speak. At last, groaning and farting with exaggerated self-pity, she hoisted her rear end, then her front end, and plodded off to rejoin the gang. Ive driven the eight miles from park entrance to highway in only seventeen minutes or at an average rate of nearly thirty miles an hour. I squeeze among them, following the tracks of former hikers. The thirst. The dark vibrations in the sky hurt his eyes. But the chief victims of the system are the motorized tourists. The scenery improves as we bounce onward over the winding, dusty road: reddish sand dunes appear, dense growths of sunflowers cradled in their leeward crescents. Something like a yellow rash has broken out upon the mountainsides the aspen forests in their autumn splendor. Click here to review the details. For symbolic reasons. The majority of living things retreat before the stunning glare and heat of midday. By whitelisting SlideShare on your ad-blocker, you are supporting our community of content creators. I have seen the place called Trinity, in New Mexico, where our wise men exploded the first atomic bomb and the heat of the blast fused sand into a greenish glass already the grass has returned, and the cactus and the mesquite. Edward Abbey drives 450 miles from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Moab, Utah. Drank it all, except a few drops which I poured on my fingers and dabbed on my aching forehead. Soon we are grinding back along the trail, four-wheel drive all the way to Big Water Spring through the grand and beautiful desolation of the middle bench country above the inner canyons, under the ledge where nothing grows but the sword-bladed yucca, the scattered clumps of blackbrush and occasional stunted junipers. All alone, I didnt have to be brave. There are several ways of looking at Delicate Arch. The sandstone walls rise higher than ever before, a thousand, two thousand feet above the water, rounding off on top as half-domes and capitals, golden and glowing in the sunlight, a deep radiant red in the shade. It is my duty as a park ranger to protect, preserve and defend all living things within the park boundaries, making no exceptions. When he finally departed my best wishes went with him: may his fan belt snap, his tires develop blisters, his fuel pump succumb to chronic vapor lock may he never come back. As he watched the bush became larger, more active, brighter and brighter. The only trouble is that it is impossible to see from here whether or not there is a feasible route the rest of the way down. Original sin, the true original sin, is the blind destruction for the sake of greed of this natural paradise which lies all around us if only we were worthy of it. Poor Viviano with so much to his credit has one problem which hell never be able to outlive. I hammer them back together with a stone and continue my descent the hard way, crawling over the rubble until I reach the scrub spruce and the fringe of the forest. The land is worn out, barren, eroded, hopelessly unsuited to support a heavy human population but even so, however poor in economic terms, it provides the Navajo people with a firm base on earth, the possibility of a better future and for the individual Navajo in exile a place where, when he has to go back there, they have to take him in. I put on a coat and step outside. More quicksand. Mr. Graham knocked on the trailer wall. 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. He did that and then I could reach him. I shuffled through the sand, over the rocks, around the prickly pear and the spiny hedgehog cactus. As will usually happen, we are on the wrong side of the river when we want to make a landing. Soon, park superintendent Merle McRae and chief ranger Floyd Bence bring Abbey some supplies. Torture by tantalizing, hope without fulfillment. He stepped straight through the flames of the fire toward Mr. Graham. In his sluggish condition hes not likely to strike unless I rouse him by some careless move of my own. Rock and sun. There was nothing. The river itself sets the tone: utterly relaxed, completely at ease, it fulfills its mighty purpose without aim or effort. Far more interesting is the distinction to be made between civilization and culture. Flies drifted in and out and a white butterfly with wilted wings rested on the dust of the doorstep. Like that of the cottonwood, the foliage of the aspen responds to the slightest movement of air even a blow on the trunk with my stick makes the leafy assembly vibrate like bangles. Twilight is over, night is here, the sky is rich with frosty, burning, glittering stars. The geography books credit this part of Utah with an annual precipitation of five to nine inches but that is merely a statistical average. The river bears us quietly along, the canyon fills with shadow and coolness. Looking down at the graceful curve of the thousand-foot snowfield it seems to me that the descent should not require more than five minutes. If a man knew enough he could write a whole book about the juniper tree. A week later he comes back. On the rare occasions when I peer into the future for more than a few days I can foresee myself returning here for season after season, year after year, indefinitely. That, and a few coal mines here and there, and jobs away from the reservation, and more welfare, will enable the Navajos to carry on through the near future. Once down in there its hard to get out. Lees Ferry. An ice axe now would be the thing; I could squat on my heels and glissade down the snowfield in good form, controlling direction and velocity by dragging the blade in the snow. More surprises. If its not a horse it must be a unicorn. Environmentalists -- United States -- Biography. Comfort yourself with the reflection that within a few hours, if all goes as planned, your human flesh will be working its way through the gizzard of a buzzard, your essence transfigured into the fierce greedy eyes and unimaginable consciousness of a turkey vulture. The local Mormonsdespite their ridiculous beliefsare especially worthy, among the first people to forge a compassionate, efficient community in this unforgiving climate. ), Say ranger, thats a godawful road you got in here, when the hell they going to pave it? (They gather round, listening. Abbey obsessively tracks him down one day, and when he finds him, he and the horse enter a standoff that lasts hours. A hundred yards down the wash I can see the culvert, displaced by the flood and half-buried in quicksand ought to anchor that thing. To wit: HOWDY FOLKS. How can I descend to such anthropomorphism? What do the coyotes mean when they yodel at the moon? These prospectors, miners, etc. The U.S.A., for example, is not a civilization but a culture, as is the U.S.S.R., and both are essentially, Civilization on the other hand, while undoubtedly a product of various historical cultures, and as a category one which overlaps what we label culture, is by no means identical with culture. When these dried out I could at least record my final thoughts. I should have apologized and helped him get up but I didnt. What I need is a braking device. How difficult to imagine this place without a human presence; how necessary. I cannot attempt to deal with it here.[29]. I am not attributing human motives to my snake and bird acquaintances. The boats continue to turn, and facing downriver now we see to the southwest, far beyond the opening in the cliffs, a kind of convulsed hump in the earths stony crust. Every cobbler gets clobbered at last, etc. My own, my children, mine by right of possession, possession by right of love, by divine right, I now surrender them all to the winds of winter and the snow and the starving deer and the pinyon jays and the emptiness and the silence unbroken by even a thought. The chief beneficiaries will be the oil and automotive combines far away, but part of the take will remain on the reservation in the form of wages paid to those who change the sheets, do the laundry, pump the gas, serve the meals, wash the dishes, clean the washrooms and pump out the septic tanks simple tasks for which the Navajos are available and qualified. Safe. I picked up my flattened hat, reformed it, put it on. And this second truth we can deny only at the cost of denying our humanity. In each there is the sense of something ultimate, with mountains exemplifying the brute force of natural processes, the sea concealing the richness, complexity and fecundity of life beneath a surface of huge monotony, and the desert what does the desert say? On guard, head aloft that evil slit-eyed weaving head shaped like the ace of spades tail whirring, the rattler slithers sideways, retreating slowly before me until he reaches the shelter of a sandstone slab. The lying old bastard. on September 7, 2010, " Desert solitaire was first published in 1968"--P. [4] of cover, There are no reviews yet. Learning from the relative a nephew that the missing man is about sixty years old, an amateur photographer who liked to walk and had never been in the Southwest before, we assume first of all that the object of the search is dead and that the body will be found somewhere along the more than twenty miles of highly indented rimrock that winds northwest and northeast from Grandview Point. Up to the top of Wilsons Mesa and eastward and upward through the pygmy forest of juniper and pinyon pine. The city, which should be the symbol and center of civilization, can also be made to function as a concentration camp. I slipped by degrees into lunacy, me and the moon, and lost to a certain extent the power to distinguish between what was and what was not myself: looking at my hand I would see a leaf trembling on a branch. Husk was willing, even eager, and inquired as to the terms. In the year 1572 a temporary star appeared near this constellation bright enough to be seen in full sunshine, throwing all the Christians of Europe into uproar. Many are committing slow suicide on skid row (like the Indians) or at best (as Viviano used to do) working overtime in hopes of collecting back pay. [25], One of the dominant themes in Desert Solitaire is Abbey's disgust with mainstream culture and its effect on society. 5000, one hundred miles away. It is a region more difficult to traverse than the Alps or the Himalayas, but if strength and courage are sufficient for the task, by a years toil a concept of sublimity can be obtained never again to be equaled on the hither side of Paradise.. They seem to include the work of different cultures and a great extent of time: on a wall of rock near Turnbow Cabin is pictured a man on horseback, which must have been made after the arrival of the Spanish in North America; on another rock wall a few miles southwest of Moab is the petroglyph of what appears to be a mastodon a beast supposedly extinct more than twenty thousand years ago. Eh? Abbey's observations and challenges remain as relevant now as the day he wrote them. Words, words the problem makes me thirsty. Billy-Joe saw his father stop, grab at his stomach, and lunge again at Mr. Graham. Here we become aware of the chief disadvantage of our cheap little rubber boats: far too often, when we see some place that demands unhurried exploration, the strong current will carry us past before we can paddle our awkward craft to the shore. 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