Ed-Abbey

Edward Abbey . . .

Few who have an interest in America’s southwest are not grateful for having stumbled upon the written works of Edward Paul Abbey. I regret that he was not revealed to me when I was younger and am grateful to have discovered Edward Abbey when more mature and settled. The tales and adventures of which he wrote are those I sought throughout my life. His "Reject Much, Obey Little" quote I amployed, before knowing of him, when I vehemently rebelled against the U.S. military draft process during the late ‘60s, and then, other matters as time passed. Abbey provided insight and ideologies of a broader spectrum of life than we normally receive and which deviates some from what is societally acceptable.

Prior to reading Abbey's works, my mentor and dear friend, Sammy Freeman provided guidance I sought in respect to my personal and professional life. Though he would not have denied Abbey’s philosophy, “Resist Much, Obey Little,” he would not have considering such for himself, or he would have phrased Abbey’s quote with more finesse. Most probably, Sammy would have guided me to do my resisting with caution and advising me to give thought to the potential consequences.

Edward Abbey delivers writings that take us from our current societal norm into the rebellious wild that existed in America from the ‘50s through the ‘70s and which, in some cases and some places, still exists today. Though never verbalized or put on paper, Abbey’s writings espouse a philosophy to which I have tried to adhere throughout my life, even throughout that thirty year period I refer to as my suit and tie phase, ‘Never A Dull Moment.’ Those four words have has always been printed on the back side of my personal business cards.

Edward Abbey served as the first NPS park ranger at Arches National Park. He lived in a trailer at the upper range of Arches N. P., which, during his tenure, had only unpaved roads. The access to the park, during his period as ranger, was approximately 5 miles further north from today’s entrance, on Highway 191, with a turn onto a slightly marked dirt road heading east. When the National Park Service decided to relocate the entrance to where it is today, and paved the roadways that wind through the park, Abbey resigned from the NPS. He had written Desert Solitaire during that period while he enjoyed the quiet provided by unpaved roads leading to and through Arches National Park.

Edward Abbey’s, Deseret Solitaire, takes one through thousands of years of human presence in America’s great south-west deserts, a region I have come to love and respect. Often, I had considered Edward Abbey as being born too early; perhaps, I was born too late. I continue to wish I had been able to be on a steed next to him, roaming the vastness of the great Colorado Plateau. It would have been a pleasure learning his philosophies in person, those philosophies and lessons that Ed continues to deliver to mankind through his books, lessons on how to avoid destroying the basic elements of life that exist in the vast wilderness of America’s great south-western deserts and mountains and to savor this desert wilderness which is rapidly fading from the world’s landscapes due to urban growth and real estate developments.

Not unlike Abbey, I fear that we are losing the wilderness protection battle due to agencies like the BLM having free reign over millions of acres of public lands, some of which, due to total disregard, have been destroyed by having been made more accessible to industry - oil, gas, helium, and the mining of uranium and numerous other mineral. The Bureau of Land Management has a tough job when one considers all for which the BLM is responsible to manage and maintain. Based upon personal observation and discussion with BLM staff in the four-corners region of Utah, I can attest to how horribly understaffed BLM remote offices are.

As I admire the photos in the classic coffee table, photo books, Hidden Canyon, and Desert Images, I gained knowledge from Edward Abbey’s commentary which provides historical data related directly to the photos. Abbey’s blunt and honest commentary regarding the great importance of the beautiful architectural creations of the Ancient Puebloans, a.k.a. Anasazi, and their importance to mankind. Much of what the Anasazi created is no longer accessible. It makes one wonder why these historic remains, these marvelous stone structures up to five-stories in height, the petroglyphs, messages carved into canyon walls, and pictographs painted onto canyon walls have been allowed to be made inaccessible to mankind. One man-made creation of the 20th Century, Lake Powell, submerged numerous Ancestral Puebloan structures and artwork created between 500 A.D. and 1300 A.D., and perhaps earlier, removing them from view and future study.

For reasons not clearly understood, the Anasazi abandoned the four-corners region between 1290 and 1320 A.D. We know that there was a twenty-three-year draught and that there was a lack of food due to overpopulation and water shortages in the four-corners region. The thirty-five thousand of the Ancestral Puebloans who created the wonders of Hovenweep’s six villages, Mesa Verde, Chaco Canyon and other domiciles where they existed for hundreds of years abandoned all they created during that thirty year period. To gain a better understanding of the hardship associated with the migration away from the four-corners region it is important to understand that the Anasazi did not have animals of burden and did not have the wheel. Thus, all they took with them had to be hand carried or dragged on a platform.

Edward Abbey, along with other authors describe in great detail the beauty of the canyons and rivers they enjoyed as they navigate various rapids in the classic book, Hidden Canyon. Some of the spots shown in the book I have visited, many I continue to seek, some I find, and many can only be viewed in historic photographs. Friends with common interest in keeping such historic sites accessible to all, have similar quests for the ongoing allowance and continued access to historic sites not currently accessible.

Since 2011, I have ventured to places of which Edward Abbey wrote and places he may not have seen, or if he did, did not write about, the Great Panel in Horseshoe Canyon would stand as such an example. Abbey did visit and explore territory that is now part of Canyonlands National Park as well as what is now known as Capital Reef and Zion’s National Park. He also visited several of Hovenweep’s six villages which are on the flat vastness of the Cajon Mesa of the Colorado Plateau in the four-corners region of Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona. The Hovenweep settlements and the surrounding area Abbey declared as being, “The most weird, wonderful and magical place on Earth.” I could never disagree with that declaration.

Hovenweep, the Hopi word meaning Desolated Canyon, is the name given to a National Monument which has four of its six villages located in south-eastern Utah, one being on the Navajo Reservation, and two of the villages across the Colorado border. All six villages were made accessible in 2022 by the National Park Service.

Due to my roaming about in this region for decades, I stumbled upon Hovenweep in 2004 when dirt roads and a dirt parking lot at the Square Tower Village headquarters was all there was. One occasional ranger present during most the summer, but simply an adventure that required little physical ability, but stretched the brain.

Hovenweep is on the Cajon Mesa of the Colorado Plateau near Hatch Trading Post where wild mustangs and donkeys continue to roam freely, with stallions fighting other stallions for mating privileges. These wild mustangs are often found near watering holes which ranchers have created for cattle, watering holes found by driving down dirt roads and looking for windmills towering above the Cajon Mesa and pumping ground water into troths. In this region of the Mesa, mustangs can often be seen leaping over pipelines flowing crude and natural gas across the vast Colorado Plateau expanse.

The many visits I have made to the wide-open range of the Cajon Mesa, a region Edward Abbey explored extensively, brought me to consider his enormous insight into the tremendous importance of keeping the wild, wild, insight gained by understanding the lessons learned in the depths of the open range. The beauty and remoteness of this region had always attracted me and will do so until I am no longer able. Accidentally discovering Hovenweep in 2011 was an unexpected bonus.

My efforts to document historic records and ruins in this desert region, have caused me ventured into places posted ‘Private Property’, in order to photographically document works of the ancients behind the ‘No Trespassing’ signs. Historic relics behind fences still need to be studied and recorded to allow historians and humanity to appreciate the masonry skills obvious in the structures they built, along with the carvings and paintings on canyon walls, art and history which belongs mankind, and not only to the property owner or lessee. There is possibility that such ‘No Trespassing’ signage, in the middle of nowhere, could have helped Edward Abbey to conjure up his slogan, “Resist Much, Obey Little.”

Fencing should not keep out those who come to learn from the remains that have been left by ancient inhabitants of this same land, like the Anasazi who came as long as twenty thousand years ago by crossing the land bridge from Asia to North America during the last Ice Age. A sign that reads ‘For Access, Call 801-123-4567’ instead of the ‘No Trespassing’ signs found throughout the western wilderness is worthy of consideration.

Twice I was approached by armed property owners or lessees, informing me that I was trespassing and could be shot. The first such event occurred only a few miles north of Bluff, Utah as I hiked toward an Anasazi dwelling built within a hill-side depression and a nearby petroglyph panel of which I had learned. I was approached by a considerably unpleasant cowboy on horseback, six-gun on his hip, and rifle in a scabbard, straight out of a John Wayne movie. This cowboy on horseback was a distinct throwback to what this region must have been like in the days of the wild west.

I n my attempted to explain my purpose of viewing and documenting a small and ancient cliff dwelling and petroglyph, created circa 1270 A.D., I recognized that keeping people off their land was of greater importance. The response from that well-armed cowboy to my explaining why I was there was basic: "If I let you in, all your city folk buddies are gonna come down here and trample my land. Now get your ass back to where you came from." And as commanded, I retraced my steps.

I had always tried to adhered to Hemmingway's philosophy regarding risk, “What Reward, Without Risk,” and have also tried to follow Edward Abbey's philosophy, "Resist Much, Obey Little!" During that encounter, adhering to either of those two philosophies would have been as wise as arguing with a rattlesnake.

There is a simple solution of which I learned while discussing that event when back at the hotel lounge in Bluff. “Take a cheap bottle of whiskey with you the next time and when you run into a range rider, offer him the bottle before explaining anything,” Bart told me that afternoon.

The risk of venturing into the wild as Abbey had, recognizing and accepting associated danger from nature, animals and cowboys has not diminished for those with a desire to explore canyons yet unexplored. I was advised by that well-armed cowboy that I could be shot for disobeying the ‘No Trespassing” sign, but why risk getting the rattler to strike? There continues to be that part of the west which remains wild and where people have been known to disappear and never be found. There is a reason it is still called the wild west.

Another posted sign noted during that trip which is intended of keeping everyone out and which I found amusing reads, “NO TRESPASSING, I OWN FIREARMS AND A BACKHOE.” Though in disagreement such signage, I do enjoy the slight touch of humor associated with the efforts some employ to keep others out. Perhaps humor is an incorrect presumption; sarcasm.

Throughout his life, Edward Abbey fought vigilantly to preserve the wild. With his books, he will pass knowledge of the south-western wilderness to the masses for centuries and hence he is labeled a Nature Writer. Along with his compatriots, romping through the wilds of the four-corners region of Utah, Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico, Abbey documented and shares details what remained of the wild west during his exploits, much of which still remains in place.

In a more refined way, Wallace Stegner delivered the same message as Edward Abbey. Both great authors and defenders of the wild. These two men, both great writers, worked diligently to provide information to future generations so those with similar interest will take steps to help America retain some of the wild and keep our nation’s most beautiful places in their natural state as the NPS does with our National Parks.

There are many adventurers, historians, writers, and photographers, who have been drawn to the desert and who are committed to Edward Abbey and Wallace Stegner philosophies. Many wilderness advocates and writers, along with great artists, like Georgia O’Keefe and E. Ahsley Rooney, lived their lives in America’s south-west and wrote, photographed and painted images of that inherent wilderness, but few have been as recognized as Edward Paul Abbey and Wallace Stegner and Georgia O’Keefe..