Sunday, May 3, 2009

Bible Study in the Pit Of Hell ( Midvale Utah...)

Bible Study Today!- I know we're Utahn's (yep- that's what residents of the "Pretty Great State" are called) and the world expects that from us- this one was a little different- in the intermittent rain at our film making and guitar playing pal Dan Morleys back porch( and incidentally- the man behind great Utah rock and roll Bands Skabs on Strike and Sugarpants...) was light on Theology and heavy on smokey good pork and poultry- Dan put them in the marinade yesterday morning and on the smoke early today and while the crowd discussed why Noah could or couldn't have fit all those animals on the ark, Carrie ( a fine photographer in her ow right...) whipped up a kick ass Posole, and Dan finished off the pork shoulder and Chicken... then we ate and drank beer and some of Jimmy's Mini bottles of bourbon. Jesus (Dan's Dog...) was fed many scraps- and it was good...

Something to consider while the construction finishes...

(... this is a post I made several years ago for another place and time- the writing is a bit primitive, but it feels right to post this while James and I get The Globemallow Report up and running- expect a post on a short trip to the Salt Flats here soon - also- these aren't James' Pic's they're disposable camera snapshots from the actual trips described in the text...)

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Labyrinth Canyon- on the Green River here in the shithead capitol of the world( "Utah" as it is more formally called…) is in trouble…

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The Bureau Of Land Management is selling off natural gas drilling leases- under the river…Which I have no problem with (… except for the fact that it's stupid -We know that more natural gas is not the solution in an overpopulated world, where every gram of carbon we pump into the atmosphere is killing us- but hey- a whole bunch of us HAVE to die before things can get better right?...well am I correct?...who's first?...anyone?...)Photobucket

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…However, with extraction of the resource comes equipment-big heavy equipment- and they have to cut in roads for it, and then come the "forwhillers" with their noise and stink and Vienna sausage cans and plastic water bottles, and blue plastic tarps, and dirty disposable diapers behind every rock, and chopping off all the branches of the junipers with chainsaws( cause they're to fucking lazy to find deadwood- which is all of thirty feet away…) and the poachers shooting the rattlers and cougars, and the old people in their RV's start bitching that they deserve to see the river too- and then the roads are paved, and flush toilets have to be put in because everyone is shitting all over the rocks and leaving the toilet paper on the sandbars and people are in danger of Cholera( fucking Cholera?!..Jesus fucking Christ – you fucking dipshits are stupid!...CHOLERA is a MEDEIVAL goddamn disease…can't your goddamn cellphone and HANDI-WIPESTM save you from a disease that only affects people living in their own filth?...apparently not.. ) and the fucking generators buzzing in the distance so Junior can watch fucking Bambi in the canyon while the wild horses and antelope get caught in the powercords and six-paktm holders running across the campgrounds, and teenagers take Meth and break their legs, and or necks in the river( the most common of Green and Colorado river injuries because so many people jump into the water without knowing if there are submerged rocks...) on spring break and the helicopters make so much noise rescuing them, and someone starts selling inner tubes at the Green River Bridge and there are rangers asking for permits and writing tickets and hamburger stands and mobile home parks and gang tagging, more fucking teenagers( of all ages, mind you…) writing "Metallica" and "Jeff sucks my Balls" on every rock….Photobucket

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You don't believe it?...ask Moab…ask Las fucking Vegas….ask Boulder- ask any fucking person who lived in Big or Little Cottonwood Canyons, Park City, Aspen, Lyons, and Olympia before those places went to hell….

…More importantly ask Hite, Utah- Population 50 catfish and a sole surviving Colorado River Chub ( -not in good health as they put in a goddamn reservoir where her river used to be…) in Hite they'll tell you that when the fucking shortsighted and greedy and lazy want something from you – you gotta take the whole goddamn package – all or nothing…there is no "limited" use of resources- there is only pristine- or SNAFU("Situation Normal- All Fucked Up"…a WWII era Acronym that pretty much sums up what the "wise " and "best" intentions lead too…)…the fish will HAVE to tell you that- because all the PEOPLE are GONE- because they can't breath water, because the former village that was Hite had a goddamn reservoir built on top of it and all of what used to be Glen Canyon is now "Lake " Powell- with a perfect storm of SNAFU slathered on like rancid frosting…speed boats, Aquatic RV's (houseboats) spring break, exotic Sport fish, and string Bikini's and all of the stuff that makes America great…except the quiet- and stillness… and fresh air… and eagles… and rattlesnakes… and Navajo… and trees…( looking on the bright side though, there is still Hantavirus- "Please- when visiting Lake Powell, stick you hands into all animal dens and lick them afterward"…this message from the Hite Utah Chamber of Commerce- Have a pleasant stay!...…)Photobucket


..please can we make it stop?...There is a Disneyland already- and if that's what you like fine…please go there…the same goes for New Jersey, California, and New Delhi, New York ,Tijuana, and Seattle…Why must you make places I like into places you like?...let's just stop it….I won't try to make Your places SANE and FIT places for HUMANS if you will please stop bringing your stupid-crazy to the places I cherish…is it a deal?....

I have this fantasy that someday I can get J, and Jimmy, and Yonk, (and Shan and Bronwen and Melissa- if they'll go…) on the river in Labyrinth Canyon- to explore the side canyons with them, to experience the quiet, and campfires on sandbars...This is BIG-This is Very Much in the TOP THREE for what I want From My Life…- To do a little bit of Huck Finn before there are signs, and Guided Tours (for only Five Hundred Dollars a DAY!- a bargain at half the Price!...), and the aforementioned Dirty Diapers aren't shoved under the rock Denis Julien signed in 1837…I might have only next year to do that…and I doubt the other parties can do it next summer( busy , busy, busy ….the shame…) It might be an opportunity that is- for me, gone forever….

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On one trip down the river my compatriots and I were exploring a steep side canyon – my dog Lola was with us too- we had no climbing gear but the hike was little by little turning into a climbing trip – not a real big deal but for the doggie- who was getting a bit freaked by the exposure to a possible fall and some of the hairier places where there wasn't a lot of room for four paws…at one point we came to an undercut pour off where the only way up was to climb a Gambels Oak and jump from it onto a sloping ledge above- a difficult move with a lot of exposure for people- never mind dogs(and mind you my dog was a fucking champ at this stuff- …)…so after consulting with the group I decided to go back to camp. I helped they guys up and over the pour-off and Lola and I headed back down the canyon to where it opened up to the exposed slope of the main river canyon…this was a steep slope but not to rocky and angling down to the river and looked like a fairly direct route. Lola started to run down slope and I followed, and as I did she got excited- that dog loved to run…son… as we ran I realized the slope was still steeper and rockier than my original estimate, and plants and cacti were cutting at my feet and legs as I realized I was in one of those situations where I was actually running faster than I could actually go and things were getting pretty interesting- Lola was joyous though, and my sandals weren't flying off and I figured that as long as everything went this well we would be ok…but I couldn't stop – we were Fully Committed- as they say, and all I could do is try to concentrate on the next footfall and avoiding holes, rocks, and branches that would have spelled certain injury and a good chance of a slow painful death- as we closed on the river I realized that there was no way I would be able to stop before I reached it and I quickly calculated that the odds were pretty good that there was nothing dangerous enough to stop for…I aimed for a tight outside bend in the river and as we approached at a speed that seemed impossible- I hit the ten foot high wall of reeds that lined the bank- and was nearly cut to pieces ( or so it felt) by them as my momentum carried me through, with Lola beside me and we sailed through the air and into the brown mud charitably called a river and we sank and sank, and I never touched bottom, and I feared I didn't know which way was up- and suddenly my head popped out and I saw Lola some distance downstream and called to her as I began my swim up and across a half mile of river to the opposite bank where we were camped…I shared a beer with the dog…and we ate gerbil food and all was right in the world….

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That five minute period might have been the best time of my entire life…I might never have such an opportunity again- no one might have that time again… all because someone wants to suck a little bit of natural gas out of the earth….

On another day, on another trip down this river, there were some "Forwhillers" on the miners two track that parallels it for some distance- they waved to us as they buzzed by- as if they were friends- as if they were sharing experience with the people in boats doing the river with gravity and muscle power- silently and reverendly.....

I pulled us all into an eddy and we went up to that two track "road" and for half of a day, we hauled rocks- big rocks...rocks that you could see from Bowknot Bend - about 600 feet above the river..we hauled those big rocks onto that Two Track and spelled out "GO HOME"all the way across that goddamn minning road...as a very special message to our ATV buddies and even specialler message to our friends on the river looking down from the river register...(an ammo can with a notebook inside..)

Please do not fuck up my river- please don't make me haul rocks onto your road...please leave the good things left alone...and un-disneyed...please...