West Desert Journal

A couple years ago I had an amazing experience not easily explained. In fact I was baffled at first and then totally overjoyed. It all started when I received a fix-it ticket from a highway cop about a month before for a dead tail-light on my Suzuki Samurai. I ended up replacing the whole tail light assembly and was able to find it used at the local junk yard. The problem arose when I neglected to get the ticket taken care of.

I left town for Spring Break that spring and was attending Dixie State College. When I returned I received a letter in the mail from the Hurricane City Justice Court informing me that I had failed to dismiss the citation and also failed to show up in court. In the letter they were threatening to suspend my license, increase my fine and issue a warrant for my arrest. The notice was dated March 9 and the day I received this letter was march 20th. The letter stated that I had to pay the fine within 10 days or these additional charges would apply. I became pretty distressed and called the Hurricane Justice court asap.

When they looked up my case number they said that the ticket had been dismissed and that Nathan Cowlishaw had come in showing proof that the tail light assembly was replaced. The fact is I never went in. They asked me if I had sent someone on my behalf and I told them I did not. The truth is I told no one about my ticket except two family members and they were living hundreds of miles away. During that phone call I had the lady on the other end reverify this information twice and was reassured that my ticket had was dismissed with proof. There were no clerical errors. The citation verification number they had matched the ticket I was holding in my hand. So I hung up the phone and called a few relatives about this.

After all that, I still wasn’t convinced! Being a little obsessive-compulsive I decided to call the court office about twenty minutes later. They located a woman by the name of Lisa. She was the original employee who had engaged in the transaction with the individual that was supposedly me. I spoke with Lisa and she verified that she had spoken to this individual and informed me that his name was indeed Nathan Cowlishaw. She reiterated that he had presented proof that my tail-light assembly had been replaced and they dismissed the ticket.

This is amazing! I don’t know who it was that showed up on my behalf? I don’t know who to thank? I never was at the Hurricane Justice Court to get the ticket dismissed. Lisa said that I must of been doing things right and should thank my lucky stars. To top all that, I was supposed to have a peace officer inspect my tail light and he was supposed to sign the ticket in order for it to be dismissed! Which I never did! That is what makes this a miracle.

I cannot even explain how this could happen logically? Miracles come out of the woodwork when you least expect them. That’s why you never stop believing and always remain hopeful even during those dark struggles in life. Never forget the beauty of this world or the blessings that you’ve been given. I want to thank somebody but don’t know who? I am being watched over and this was one of those unknown happenings.

This morning I listened intently to whistling robins. They were chirping and cheering with an early morning joy. The lovely noise filled me with a bright primordial bliss. There’s a storm rolling in from the desert. The whirling gusts of cold shifting air whip the Ponderosa trees in the yard. The past three days the summer temperatures have spilled into the 90’s but alas the nimble clouds have come to pay Cedar City a visit. Their approach is most anticipated. Never curse the moisture that the Creator provides!

Thank you Heavenly Father for this blessing of harmony. I am so grateful to be a part of the colorful landscape. Canyon Country runs in my blood. It is a part of my soul. When I become old, I want my carcass dumped in a flash flood gully where coyotes may discover my discarded flesh and laugh with joy. May they fill their empty bellies and be content. That is a powerful and pleasant thought.

All around is sand and plateau, the homeland of the Anasazi. Their presence is felt on the ancient wind. Their whispers whistle through pinion and juniper. A spectacular thunderhead trails across the landscape with a cloud shadow dumping rain on the thirsty landscape. The aroma of lightning and wet sage fills the air. Red Indian Paintbrush, Yellow Mustard and Prickly Pear flowers paint the pretty desolation. Welcome to the beauty of Mother Earth and a turquoise Father Sky.

My heart is filled with love for all of God’s creations - for the wailing wind that sings in desert pines. Listen to the old ways when the wasteland shimmers and conjures the past. Like a flickering movie the vision comes alive. My imagination evokes the dreams and they mix with hot summer daylight and rolling thunder. The sweltering sun bakes the land while the thunderhead is an escape from the ultraviolet furnace.

I sweat profusely in the intense dry as the dark rain heads towards my camp. The wind pushes the thunderhead swiftly. The junipers sing with the oncoming assault. Amazing! I’m taking cover in a red nylon tent that flaps and whips violently against the oncoming gusts. The thunderhead descends on my camp ground and strikes full throttle dropping golf-ball-sized rain drops that pound the earth without mercy. The dry beige colored dirt quickly turns dark and saturated rusty brown. A sudden flash of lightning strikes the ground followed by a deafening crack of thunder. As the ground trembles I feel the humbling power of nature.

There is no way to put into words how you feel when looking at huge murals of strange painted beings floating on canyon walls…

These images predate the Anasazi and when they arrived in Grand Canyon perhaps they were perplexed by the archaic pictography scattered throughout Canyon Country? They give you a sense of awe when hiking to remote places like Horseshoe Canyon or the San Rafael Swell in Central Utah.

I have always been fascinated with rock art. When I was in my early teens I’d check out stacks of books from the library on the subject. It developed an interest that became so powerful I started traveling to all the various sites that I could access and have since visited over 800 panels of rock art in Iron County! I’ve been able to locate 23 different sites with the help of old-timers, ranchers, sheep herders and friends. I’ve stumbled across sites that may not even be known to the general public? The majority of sites found around Iron County were left by the Anasazi and Freemont and not the Western Archaics. What really generates the deepest interest for me is the Barrier Canyon styles of rock art that dominate Horseshoe Canyon, San Rafael Swell, Glen Canyon and the Grand Canyon. I’d like to see some of the locations in Grand Canyon but they are closed off to the public.

My imagination is tempted to roam wild when visiting these places because they have an intuitive power to paint images and create scenes in my mind about the lives and times of these ancient people. They used the atlatl for hunting and created Split Twig Figurines that have been discovered in caves all over the Southwest. Very little is known about the Western Archaic peoples that lived in Utah and Arizona. When it comes to the rock art, one can only speculate and it adds to the power and awe of the Barrier Style that leaves you totally amazed. When looking at the images I do feel a power coming from their forms that suggests; perhaps they are real living entities painted on stone as I’ve heard some Ute people say. When viewing photographs of the images I feel the same lurking emotions. A Paiute friend of mine once said that it was appropriate to leave something of value for the pictographs because they are giving away spiritual power, so it is an exchange… As an artist, I feel compelled at times to incorporate them into my; paintings, sketches and doodles.

One thing that really bothers me is when folks have no respect for these sacred places. One of the biggest problems in the Southwest is the vandalism of rock art. It is disheartening to realize that someone would actually hurt a site. In my years of exploration and visiting various petroglyph/pictograph sites I’ve always been vigilant of those that destroy beauty. Anyone who would vandalize, deface or destroy anything sacred or beautiful is an enemy of mine. So when visiting these sites it is my belief that you should do so with respect and learn to hear the voices of the past. When they are disturbed it destroys the tranquility. When people destroy something so priceless and impossible to replace they are muffling those ancient voices. If you believe in the unseen and mysterious you’re best bet would be to protect these sites from those that would do harm to them. For those that do anything to hurt rock pictures will have unanticipated consequences later down the road; a family member could get sick or something? Over the years I’ve heard the many stories of how people mysteriously vanish in the wilderness without a trace. What goes around comes around and I’ve always remembered that and remain vigilant.

I am resting by alcove deep in Canyonlands, dreaming of wasteland shadows and the ancient voices from the past. Thank goodness, I am far from town and listening to the sweet sound of crickets and mourning doves in a cottonwood. A dust devil sweeps the arid plain whipping tumble weeds. A dark black raven trails the light azure sky. The sandstone is baked enough to fry and scramble eggs. The desert is an enormous frying pan. The distant elevated plateau dances in a mirage.

I’m alone and surrounded in pure isolation. Sure do miss those monsoon thunderheads that appear in late July. The crazy wind crashes through Juniper and pinion making the sound of white water rapids. Descending into a narrow slot canyon, into purple shade, I feel the cold red sand rise up between my bare toes. And I must admit It’s very lonesome… but its okay!

Where are you my fellow comrades; desert rats, rock climbers, river runners, outlaws and rugged naturalists? Where are you my beautiful sandstone queen?

Yes, I’ve been diagnosed with this and too much homework at school is the cause. Right now I am working on a paper about Ethnomethodology and how it has become revolutionary in the field of Sociology. It basically invalidates all the old conventional theories like Marxism. Even society is an illusion to the Ethnomethodologist! Maybe I should become one?

Thanks to desert beauty and crickets on warm summer nights, I know what I crave. I miss the dark monsoon storms of late July rolling over high desert plateaus and listening to the distant rolling thunder. The days are growing longer and trees are becoming green. It is time to go sit on Grandma’s porch and watch the hummingbirds.

Well, I’ve spent most my life living outdoors and being in the hills. This summer I am going to photograph areas of rural Southern Utah. Here’s a new twist, I’m also dating and enjoying a social life. Heck, I’m more sociable than I ever imagined. It’s a piece of cake with the right amount of confidence.

This summer my goal is to do some serious hiking in the outback. Running is a new passion. What I need is a good backpack for trekking. My old one is busted. I have an S.A. 44 Magnum to spook off cougars and black bears, so I feel safe going into the wilderness alone. I’ve already come face to face with a black bear and only pots and pans to bang!

It is a real virtue to remain calm when storms unfold. As you think you are getting old now, just keep advancing forward through different levels of maturity. Then you will look back and realize your own immaturities. You will see that wisdom and love are not derived from arrogance or selfishness. Peace and solitude come from selfless introspection and trying your best at finding a way through darkness and suffering. Sadness plays an important role in your progress through life but true happiness is the beauty that brings balance when struggles abound.