Outback!

I spend the morning in the Visitor Center (VC) doing things that have now become routine. At lunch I go back to my trailer to pack - amazing how much thought goes into this: Shoes, socks, long underwear (it’s still quite cold here in the morning), down jacket, wool hat, sun hat, gloves, tees…and that’s just the clothing. Then there’s the tent, the sleeping pad (that also converts into a handy chair), sleeping bag, water filter. The list goes on and on. Should I mention the food? Probably not. 

Then finally off I go to Slickhorn Canyon where I start easy by day-hiking down to what is known as 'Perfect Kiva'. This site was once written about by local author Terry Tempest Williams in her poetic book entitled, Red. 

This brings up an issue I might as well address right now: when we talk or write about some pristine place, sure enough others will want to experience its beauty which will ruin the very qualities originally spoken of. Peace. Quiet. Untouched. Undeveloped. Uncrowded. All those things change as the word spreads and soon the trails get pounded into dust, ruins are damaged, rock art gets defaced. It’s very much like the song where the singer laments: “Call some place Paradise, kiss it goodbye.” 

It's an ethical conundrum we talk a lot about here: do we keep what we've discovered to ourselves? Or is it better to open it up and educate folks about it’s delicate preciousness and thus create a sense of what the conservationists call “stewardship”. Or do we just lock it up and throw away the key? Highly impractical, that one. People will find a way there and damage it if they so choose. So I guess we have to educate and limit access as much as we can and hope for the best.

Most of the people I've talked to in the VC are members of ‘the best’ category. By this I mean that they appreciate the remote nature of this area and the delicate situation we face and are more than willing to ‘steward’ the sites. Only a small few are what are known as 'Baggers' – people who are more interested in ‘doing’ the popular things quickly and efficiently before moving on to the next thing on the list to bag. One example of this is the Grand Loop Experience – a COC-promoted two week tour of all five National Parks in the Four Corners Region: Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef, Canyonlands (three parks in one actually) and the piece de resistance: The Grand Canyon. Two weeks, two thousand miles of driving, two million possible experiences; how can one possibly take in anything on a schedule like that? Better I think, to pick one spot and plunk the ol' keister down on the ground for a few hours or days and watch what comes your way. Amazing things might happen.

For example: hiking back along a canyon rim late one afternoon, I was worried about getting back to the station before they sent out the Mounties.  I had my head down and was crunching the miles at a very quick pace. Suddenly two ravens swooped right across my path and soared out into the abyss cartwheeling and cawing. Apparently one had just caught a tasty little lizard and the other wanted in on the action. Round and round they tumbled, indifferent to me or the canyon walls they tumbled past. Up, down – in and out. Raucous screaming and aerial mastery evident...

When suddenly - out of nowhere - a red tail hawk whooshed screaming through their midst and quickly it became a three-bird air show. Boy! Were they surprised?!? How much time passed I don’t know but I do know that if those ravens hadn't crossed my path I wouldn't have been witness to such beauty. Such skill. Such fun! (Fun for me to watch at least.) Perhaps that’s why people come here to Cedar Mesa. To get out of their fuel-efficient metal contraptions, slow down to a walking pace, get sunburned, get thirsty and smell the juniper trees baking in the high desert sun. Oh yes – and maybe get to witness a momentous, small moment of life. It kind of puts our normal, urban, busy-bee lifestyles into perspective.