West Desert Journal

Winter is drawing nearer to the desert. Leaves have fallen from the trees. The mountains are no longer green. It’s time for a change in beauty, white snow covered valleys ready for silent dreams.

To My Dad in Salt Lake -

If your reading this; I just want you to know that I am grateful for everything you’ve done for Joe and me. You’ll always be my Number One Father! Nothing will transcend that either. Actions always speak louder then words!

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Journal Entry -

I nearly drowned in classes today. I’m taking a Middle Eastern Politics class, Sociology, and another class titled Social Problems. They all seem connected. More and more, the education is challenging my beliefs and opinions. Wow!! Three wake-up calls today on the path towards awareness. I want to weed out any terrible Prejudices that might still be lurking in me, and stab ‘em all to death!

Life is good. People are beautiful. And Earth and Sky are all beautiful. My family and friends are beautiful, and I love them very much.

Tonight is a happy night; a good evening to say something positive. I received a lot of knowledge today, so perhaps this is the after-affect. It’s more like an afterglow.

Have you ever herd the quote; “Nothing is more wonderful then losing a closed-mind!” …Wow!

I have the day off. There’s twenty dollars in my wallet and a car waiting for the desert’s wiry dirt roads. The desert is calling. Mental images of the land are dancing in my head.

When we journeyed across Parowan Valley, past the alfalfa fields, and ranches; large numbers of ravens were everywhere. They were gathering in different locations. But they were bunched in large groups. Some looking like they numbered in the hundreds. What were they up to? Were they getting ready to travel somewhere? Even in the dead of winter, the ravens are always at home on the landscapes of Southern Utah.

The West Desert is sweating, even in the autumn’s heat. Something is calling me to venture into the Unknown. The simplicity and isolation sing to my senses. The simple silence speaks between Mother Earth and Sky. It’s the fact that I am alone, free to move, and free to be happy without restraint.

You never know what paths you may cross, nor lessons learned. Strange things manifest themselves where loneliness lurks. The desert is sentient and aware of my soul.

So today, that old car will travel a hundred miles of dusty roads, towards the heart of old ghost towns, sage, and thunderous dreams. Places that can only be found in mystery, where wild horses still roam the mountain ranges!

Here’s an update on the trip across Parowan Valley; Mr. Harris had to baby-sit his two grandchildren Friday morning, so he was unable to accompany us. However, he drew us a map on paper, so we could find the hidden pictograph site that we’ve been unsuccessful in trying to locate at least a few times already. It was three years since I had been to the site, and thought I knew where it was originally, but didn’t. Thanks to Mr. Harris, we were able to locate the rock paintings in a small alcove in one of the many finger canyons.

I didn’t take any pictures, but my brother Joe and I plan to head out this next Friday to photograph the panel. Hardly anybody knows the locality of this place, and it is a pretty remote area. Only a few know where it is, and they are won’t usually talk. It’s best kept a secret.

It took us about 45 minutes to find the canyon where they were located. It is a beautiful place with large rock ledges on each side, and huge boulders sticking out of the ground here and there, even right in the creek bed. It’s a dry place, with hardly any moisture, but there was some moss in the alcove where the pictographs are.

We stayed out there for about a half-hour, and rested. It was windy and had been cloudy that morning, but it became sunny before we left. It feels mysterious, especially when juniper trees creak like old, rusty door hinges every time wind rushes up the canyon.

The panel depicts what looks like a small human-like figurines, some with exaggerated features, and one of the images had horns. There’s a small depiction of two people holding hands, but I have no idea what any them might mean? This panel only contains 5-6 different images, and is relatively small. I have an idea that there might be other rock art panels in the area, but the hills across Parowan Valley are a sea-like maze of rocks. From Parowan, it looks like a small place. But when you?re in them, you can lose track!

When looking these sacred images, it brings gratitude. It creates a deep appreciation for the history. The fact blows me away, that between 500-1000 years ago, somebody painted them, and camped in this same area while migrating, or something. But these ancient writings tell a story or an instruction that I will never be able to comprehend. That?s the mystery. Although there are a few people who claim they can read such things, I will probably never understand.

I took my cousin, and brother hiking in some mountains across Parowan Valley today. They are located Northeast of Cedar roughly about 20 miles. We’ve made two attempts to locate a pictograph site that a kind fellow named Tom Harris, showed me about three years ago. It was like trying to find a lost gold mine. We found nothing, but our efforts weren’t fruitless. We got to see an awesome sunset, and everything was in a crimson glow. We didn’t get out of the canyon until after dark. The light of full-moon provided plenty, so we could locate the car. I take that old Honda Civic everywhere, including down 4 Wheel drive trails, and still is running like new. I paid 500 dollars for daisy, but she’s getting rusty and old; It’s only months now before she’ll retire.

I contacted Mr. Harris tonight. His health is not good, but he’s a happy person. He insisted on coming with my brother and me tomorrow, so that we can we can locate Pictograph site. I have my Nikon loaded with film, so I will take some photos and let you know how the trip goes.