West Desert Journal

Okay, I had a wild hair to break out of my shell of conformity and write a few words here on Freedom. I’m talking True Freedom and how it feels. First comes courage and faith to think outside the box and to be different from all the others. Freedom is finding the courage to really let a woman know she is beautiful. Freedom is the wild horse that roams the great basin or is the man that decides to hitch-hike the lonesome highways of America. Freedom is to enter the quiet canyons of the Colorado Plateau and to experience solitude and seclusion.

I seek to be different and to emerge with a unique identity in a world of common imagery and unchanging static. My spirit is like a wild eagle and it cannot be bound by conformity, though I choose to conform. My shadow is a true rebel, but I have learned to bridal the Poncho Villa within. As I roam the great and vast distances of the American West and live the rural small town life - I have learned to experience true freedom on a daily basis. I thank the Creator for instilling in me such a strong and innate since of being. That is, because I am truly sovereign on a personal level and no one will ever tell me what to do! I choose what I choose and discard what is useless.

My affinity is for those that are striving to discover true freedom and who are trying to break away from the mold. There are lonesome hearts and there are dreamers; they are all naturally my friends.

True freedom and happiness comes from within. It all comes from my heart and now I am expressing it here the best way I can. This is just a sliver of my heart and there are infinite ways for me to go. Life is one big adventure to me and I am excited to see what lays around the next bend. With each major rapid I roar with anticipation and excitement.

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?

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.

In town I feel like a stranger and so I go home to visit the hills. Them rolling mountains have always been my friends. They are always there waiting. My love for the wild is my inner peace. On deep summer nights the thunder rolls over canyon country and I hear the sound of rain when sleeping on these cold winter nights. Oh, how I miss summer’s warmth…

In a dream, the cottonwoods sway to and fro on a heavy wind. I look into the sky and see patches of cumulus cloud ships as they journey through turquoise blue. And all of this fills an empty void inside. Even in hard times, the beauty gets me by from day to day. It helps me to remember and acknowledge the Creator’s hand in all things.

Life is like a rugged dirt road. It has washboards, puddles, and deep ruts, but my happiness has always been in four wheel drive and I can go anywhere I please. So I don’t let sadness or loneliness creep upon me. There is too much at stake. There is too much to be thankful for.

I’ve returned to Southern Utah University to finish my schooling. I am not too far from finishing a degree in Sociology. I will pursue graduate school after that and get a masters degree. My interest is Cultural Anthropology or a related field of study. So I’ve returned after a two year absence.

I’ve been working as a wilderness guide, and have enjoyed many life changing ventures. Being able to traverse the vast distances of the Desert Southwest is a blessing. Being footloose and careless though hasn’t given me the happiness that I would like that usually comes from human affection and finding someone that truly loves you. While the isolation and separation from society is something that I desire, I would like to experience the freedom and responsibility that comes from settling down and raising a family someday. Finishing school is important to a stable and secure future! As much as I love the mountains and prospecting the mysteries of this world, I also have the same desire to start a family one day!

Life is short. There are many blessings in my life. The other night, I was reading the works of Robert Service, and read a poem about men that don’t fit in. I tend to feel like one of them, but I am not going to be one that dies a lonesome and sad hermit. Life is not going play a jolly good joke on me! The truth is, being human and being happy, means having loved ones around and being surrounded by those that care for you. For without love, beauty could not exist. It is my love for the mountains and deserts that make them beautiful! But love is powerful, it is drawn from so many different faucets and they are all interwoven.

When the hardest trials come knocking on your door, that’s when you have to have the strongest faith and steadfastness. That is how it feels. That is the way it always will be. You will not be rewarded until after all the trials of your faith. The truth is that life is unpredictable. The way people react is completely unpredictable. Having a lot of faith is not for the faint of heart. My faith is strong this Sunday morning. I believe strongly in the Creator and am grateful for a powerful blessing that has come into my life. But the truth is, the path through life isn’t an easy path, but it is up to all of us to stay the course. It is my belief that all of life is a test to see if we will remain true and faithful, and endure to the end.

Early this morning, I awakened to the soft winter light seeping through my window as I was pondering everything in reality like what should I do with my life? Where should I go? How hard am I willing to go, to reach my goals and to find true happiness? Faith is for all things hoped for that are not seen…

My love of life is incredible and God made me into a pillar of light. Because I am happy to be free, to roam the quiet folds of reality, to travel the haunted night. I drive a small vehicle down the back roads and dirt roads of a big sky desert. My time is short on earth, but spectacular! When I die, allow the coyotes, buzzards, and varmints to eat my satisfied remains. in the end, I want to give something back to the world of creation that spawned me. How grateful I am to be a part of the grand scheme, from birth to death, in a world of the thriving unknown. Where ghosts lurk behind creaky doors and phantoms float the sandy canyons and the wind truly wails.

I’m gearing to go somewhere in the next few weeks to go camping for a few days alone. I’m looking at Canyon Lands, or over to Cedar Mesa, by Blanding.

Life is good you know, but times can be rough. That’s why sometimes you have to get out and smell the juniper and pinion, and listen to the wind whistle and cut through pine needles. It is a healing song almost, just to hear the wind and the creaking wood of those old trees. You know what I really love to hear? The thunder late on a summer night, somewhere in Canyon Country, and see the faint flash of lightning in the distance. Think of a flash flood ripping down a slot canyon towards the Pariah, out there on the Great Escalante Grand Staircase. It rattles the earth with boulders, logs, and uprooted trees. The power of this planet is awe-inspiring.

The beauty of life is extraordinary. But we only have a short time on this earth to find harmony. And when I am sad, or lonesome, all I have to do is think of the immense beauty that this world brings to all of us. Surely, I am grateful for such splendors and mysteries.

In a time when materialism and greed dominate the earth, and the heart of mankind is deteriorating at rapid speed, I can think about the quietness that lurks in the shadows and this harmony carries my soft heart away. It is those quiet places that most of us choose to ignore, but something is always there, waiting, unconditionally.

And so when I venture far from town, into the deep woods or into the desert, I feel like I’m going home, especially in these difficult times. They are uncertain times, and I know where beauty is found, it is a quiet peace in my heart that is all-too-hard to describe.

In the darkness, when the stars flood the heavens, there are unknown things that prowl the night. The heavens bathe sandstone outcroppings and the landscape in soft, faint, interstellar glow. Coyote laughter disturbs the silence. The border collie begins barking wildly into the black, waking you from sleep. The coyotes head up the dry wash past the ranch house, chanting and singing an ancient song. The clamor grows faint until nothing is heard, while the wind softly carries an aroma of juniper and wet sage from off of higher plateaus. Earlier that day, a small sprinkle of rain was powerful enough to release the sweet smells of desert flora.

While the darkness grows thicker and the heavens deeper, there is a celebration going on. They work feverishly and tirelessly, moving in and out of unknown channels. Those cobweb networks are teaming with life, and they are busy bees, they are… Can you barely hear the noise, when alone in your camp? Do you see a faint glow from the mountain-side? Maybe it was just a mere shimmer of light… or it was nothing at all. Do you care to venture into the abyss?

My writing is picking up. I am sitting alone in a motel room and extremely satisfied. What do ya know! At the moment I feel liberated after traveling long highway stretches and winding through steep rocky canyons. I am the nomadic vagabond!

Tomorrow, I’ll be tearing across the Colorado Plateau from high ponderosa desert to sage covered sandstone mesa. The sweet smell of life and laughter is just fabulous, joyous, and spectacular. I sit all amazed at the center of this Creation. This world is apart of me. My mind is with the shifting clouds that roam colorful vistas.

Life is about love. Loving life is the key to truth and happiness. My thoughts are very active tonight. Something unusual is about to come out of the woodwork. These feelings are like clock work and I’m vigilant. The world is about to change, maybe.

Goodnight Folks. Freedom Rules!

There is a rainbow over yonder
it sings for you.
Through stands of Ponderosa
the same light creeps
across your bare feet.
While you sift
the soft
fertileness.

I’ve been posting to this blog since 2003. I’ve owned this domain since I was a teen. My heart has changed very little since my younger years. My perception of the world has morphed completely and I’ve come to realize the most spectacular beauty in this world is the Mystery. Allowing things to be dictated by the Mystery always puts me on the right course. Everything happens for a reason and we don’t always know why. It is best to let things move along after leaving a track, a mark, or a simple word, whether it’s for another human being or a group. Life is only complex if you try controlling it. I’m in harmony with my life. It’s lonesome at times, but it has been a good experience.

It is quiet outside… Only the ancient wind howls. It comes to visit in dreams.

The power lines run alongside the road with each pole leaning one way or the other. They have become a part of the western landscape. Every road follows a string of power lines. Every sunset is filled with airplane exhaust trails.

There is a rooster tail of dirt behind my wheels and I watch the far flung city disappear in my rear view mirror. To the mountains I go, to the lovely isolation. Beneath the fall sky and wintry clouds, the sun is glazing the Great Basin. Somewhere in those Junipers, it is waiting, a place to visit long ago. It’s not hard leaving the madness and bickering behind for the quiet universe. There is a beauty inside that I can never put down. And to the world of rocks, animals, and trees, I go.

I’m working two jobs at the moment. One is Bar 10, out in the Grand Canyon. The other, Bundu Bashers, out of Park City. My last tour is on the 6th. I guess, I’m done with work for the season. This is a three-day tour beginning when I pick folks up on the Vegas Strip. The first day we visit Zion National Park and Grand Canyon. One of the days we have Navajo guides take them to Antelope Canyon and then over to Monument Valley. On the third day, we go to Horseshoe Bend, Bryce Canyon, and then back to Vegas. For three more hours I drive back up to Cedar City. On the way, I stop at the Moapa Paiute Travel Plaza to gas up and look around the shop.

I’d like to go camping in the Mormon Mountains pretty soon. They are apart of the Mojave desert and north of Moapa. Maybe to a place called Welcome Springs. It’s warm during during the fall and real isolated. For a week I went into that country and never saw another two-legged, just wild horses. Of course that was more in the high country on the way to Pioche, through Rainbow Canyon. In the old west, Pioche was one of the most lawless towns in Navada. It is said that there were more then 75 men killed in shoot-outs before anyone actually died of natural causes.

So after these tours, I’m going to travel the Mojave this next winter. Most of Central and Southern Nevada are part the ancestral homelands of the Nuwuvi, or Southern Paiute. I just finished reading a fictional account of a great Southern Paiute Warrior by the name of Mouse… The chairman of the Moapa tribe is quoted on the back of the book, giving it praise. The author isn’t native. I thought it was pretty good read. Although I know books are all-to-often, subjective. There’s a place in the Valley of Fire, which is also known as the Place of Birth to the Southern Paiute, where Mouse hid out and continually resisted the European invaders in his homeland during the 19th century. He was a thorn in the side of the Mormons that lived in his country. Good for Mouse! If you visit the Valley of Fire, north of the Moapa Indian Rez, there is a place the locals call Mouse’s Tank where he spent his days of resistance. There’s a lot of history in Southern Nevada, and it’s pretty interesting. Most of it is unknown to a lot of people.

Some of the folks are getting to know me at the travel plaza, because of all the stops I make while doing this job. When I was younger though, my cousins, brother, and I, we would usually stop there to load up on fireworks before heading off to go camping. We’d travel to places like Hamblin Valley, or north of Pioche, up into the Pinon country. In the fall, you can gather pine nuts. The Travel Plaza itself, is a truck stop, book store, gift shop, clothing store, casino, and everything else. It has one of the largest stock piles of fireworks in Southern Nevada. Pyro Heaven!

So this winter, I’ll venture where wild horses roam and the wind constantly moves. Nevada is a big sky state. It isn’t hard to get lost while roaming hundreds of miles through the interior. After all the time I’ve spent, I have barely scratched the surface.

Southern Nevada is a land of the Nuwuvi and I will always remember it as such. When I take visitors through, I tell them about the Southern Paiute and the folks that run the Plaza. The last time I was there, I locked my keys in the shuttle van while getting gas. Luckily one of the employees had some knowledge about opening locked doors. He unlaced his shoe and made a noose out of a shoelace. Carefully we pried a side window in the van. He slipped the noose through the opening. It took about an hour before this boy was able to get the noose onto the locking mechanism, and unlock the door. I was amazed!

The sky is full of storm,
As I retire for the night,
listening to the dense wind blow.
The rain begins to tap the house.

This past summer
the trees were buzzing with ghosts.
And there on the edges of reality
a fiery noise did grow.
The noise is unquiet.
Listen as the coyotes howl…

Praise to those that can hear
the powerful song of beauty.
Beware to those
who do not recognize anything.

The beauty of the wilderness
is beating inside me.
Scenes from an ancient ponderosa forest
flower in dreams, deep at night.
These dreams radiate with the glow
of black sun and turquoise sky.
Wind dashes through the pines
like white water rapids.

The sound is strong, listen.
Love the beauty.
For whatever may come,
be ready!

People are awesome and lovable. Taking them into the outback to see the beauty, we grow to become close friends and acquaintances. It makes me realize that I could not be happy without good company in my life, and when we are able to connect, we all listen to truth and there is no hard feelings. When hearts are open and listening, truth flourishes and that has been happening on the tours I’ve been giving. The experiences go beyond the commercialism. Folks from all over the world come to see the Southwest and when they are with me, they learn about the cultures and the history of the landscape. They walk away with worth-while knowledge. People ask questions and have a deep desire to learn. When they are given correct info, to the best of my capabilities, they are thankful and responsive. Now folks are sending emails to the company I work for, with good things to say on my behalf, and I am grateful for those words of kindness.

I’m going out to Toroweap to camp with my brother today. So I have something to do. I’m just kicking around here in Cedar City for the rest of the winter, pondering a move to Santa Fe. Last night I dropped my guests off on the Las Vegas Strip (Uglyville), and stopped in at the Moapa Piaute Travel Plaza to buy some powwow music. I’ve become a regular there, getting gas every time I pass through. This job is almost done for the season! It sure didn’t last long. On the way home I was listening to music; From The Underworld of Redboy, a really good native recording by Robbie Robertson… Amazing stuff!!!

The glorious evening was chilly with late monsoonal clouds entering Cedar Valley. They were on the outer limits of the city. Lightning exited a massive thunderhead that lead other cloud soldiers. Trees were bending and swaying to the relentless gusts that brought fine sediments in from the bone-dry Great Basin. It is getting late, the sun has already vanished behind bellowing clouds.

It is dark outside. No stars. In my sleep, I hear the rain and thunder as it plays out in dreams. I’m hiking somewhere in canyon country, surrounded by contrasting red and yellow cliffs, stained by desert varnish. In the vision, the cottonwood grandfathers are talking to me with their creaky branches in a creek bottom.

When awake, reality is a stunning vision. Life is not easy, but the beauty is constantly all around me. The mountains, clouds, animals, trees, rocks, and the rugged Southwest. Away from the towns, the manzanita and tammerisk grow wild. Sunflowers crowd the shoulders of dirt roads. Juniper choke the vast foothills. Off the beaten path lay the remnants of archaic peoples. Looking at sacred images on the rocks, it is hard to imagine the monsters that must have co-existed with humans. Were they supernatural entities? These rock paintings are alive and radiate with spirit. I leave them a gift.

The ferocious wind
whips through tree branches.
I close my eyes and imagine
it’s a dark and supernatural wind
blowing civilization into oblivion.
The wind is singing, howling, and rushing.
The sound is perfect, superb, and beautiful.
Into the ocean deep mind, I descend
remembering ancient days.
It is summoning the anarchy
that burns in my soul.
Where’s an escape
that leads to the past?

Well, I’m falling into a rut they call a career. As of late, I accepted a much anticipated job working for Bundu bashers. They give tours all over the Southwest, to many National Parks, and I really look forward to giving this company by best effort, for the last part of the season… The job goes until the mid part of November or whenever the tours die down. More and more, I feel comfortable working as a tour guide, and educating people about the Southwest and its history. The real reward from this type of work is all the wonderful people that I get to meet, who are coming from all over to see and experience a beauty that has been my back yard and stomping ground, my whole life! It was amazing and fulfilling to work as a wilderness guide in Grand Canyon. The Creator has truly blessed my life!

Tonight, I just got back from the family ranch where I was cutting Alabaster stone, and down-sizing it for our ndn customers. The stone was excellent, it almost rang like a church bell! That is the sign of good carving Alabaster. I’ve been thinking hard about sculpting more stone, as this is a resource, available at my finger tips. Are there any beautiful female stone carvers out there, that would be interested in a guy like me!?

Anyways, I’m really trying to frequent my blog more often and post. I even changed the layout! There’s little things that are driving me through the wall though, about the design. It’ll take time to iron it out to my liking. Rome was not built in a day.

I love life, I really do!!!

Autumn is coming. The rain was cold yesterday, but I’m always wearing cowboy-cut wranglers which provide good insulation. In the dead heat of Central Arizona, I’m wearing blue jeans, good protection against rattlers and thorny bushes. The trees in town are still dark lush green. The oak on the mountain has not turned yellow, yet. Autumn is a season for whirl-winds and dust-devils, which I see more of in September and October. The harvest brings warm weather but colder nights on Southern Utah’s high desert. It is a choice time for camping in Canyon Country. The heat isn’t so intense and the threat of flash flooding is small. The monsoon storms are quieting down. And soon the rattlers and blow snakes will hibernate, together. The landscape will become still, with a rush of autumn leaves in the wind.

This weekend, my brother, his wife, and I, are going camping for my birthday. I turn twenty-six. In many ways, I still feel very young, but the days are creeping by. Will I ever find another person to share my life? The loneliness does not bother me, which surprises a few. I’m actually very content. Folks are saying to me, hop on the band-wagon, get married, have a bunch of kids! That’s fine, I’m in no rush! That is the small town mentality of Utah. It ain’t uncommon to see a family of twelve walking down the street. There’s a Brady-Bunch in every extended family!

Joe’s wife has never been camping without a tent! She’s a city girl from Mesa, but not so sophisticated. She’s become countrified by Southern Utah culture. With a slip of the tongue I’ve already heard the words, ain’t, gots, reckon, and ya’all! She promised my brother she would sleep in the desert, under the stars, without a tent! We’re going to Toroweap, Calf Creek Falls, or the San Rafael Swell? It’s my decision. She’s never been to the Toroweap Overlook, in Grand Canyon - A 3,500 foot drop to the Colorado River.

I believe in the existence of aliens, bigfoot, and most other phenomena. I think it naive to say nothing is there, because we live in a universe where the possibilities are infinite. Just look at the stars on a clear night out in the middle of nowhere! We do not always understand what is happening in our world, but it should be our responsibility to observe nature. Those mysterious entities may be spiritual manifestations, warning us! The earth is teaming with life, but even the power of life is unknown. Can science even begin to tell us about the soul and meaning of life? Hell no!

For a long time now, I have ventured into the wild, avoiding the every day rut. When I enter a mega-store, I feel the artificiality of our pop-culture, the greed of our doing, and I see all this ugly consumerism trying to drown me in its depths. Is this a culture of greed? Yes. I will not conform. I will not accept the status quo. My enemies are those that destroy beauty.

I’ve listened to the silence of deep canyons, of isolated desert landscapes. The beauty keeps me alive and moving. The natural world seems to be telling us that a great and powerful change is on the way…

The physical warnings are the earth quakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, and record weather patterns. These are physical precursors. All over the world, things are not the same any more. It is undeniable. People are gathering who hear the mysteries. A growing chorus of them are trying to do something about it. When I was down on the Colorado River, they were talking about strange things going on in the canyon! They say there is more radiation in the Grand Canyon then ever before.

Perhaps more folks will see the mysteries of the unknown, as time draws further towards a close. I’m moving away from the consumerism and secularism, and from those that say there is no spiritual power in this world! That is how I’ve become personally sovereign. Even my personal relationship with the Creator has been a lonely one, but it is strong. My advice, follow the roots of truth, and listen to the unknown!

I feel the winds of New Mexico up here in Utah, I think the time draws near for me to spend a season or so in that country? I’m thinking of moving to Santa Fe, Gallup, or Farmington, and get out of Utah for a while. I think when I go to settle down it will be over in Blanding, or Moab, Utah. I really like the high desert country of the enchanted state. So much beauty!

Always live life to the fullest. Never quit or fall short of the goals you set, or the dreams you have. Go all the way, the whole way. Life really is too short. I’ve fulfilled two goals of mine; living and working in the Grand Canyon, and running the entire length of the Colorado River in Grand Canyon! Another goal of mine is to live within Canyon Lands National Park for a year. How do I go about achieving this?

Yes, New Mexico is a happy thought, tonight.