Sunburnt Philosophy, Part 6

[mnaz]

I puzzle over these elevation tricks. This gentle grade extends for miles.... the drop adds up to thousands of feet, yet it seems virtually flat, stretched over such a great span. Stratified hills project from the slope below, but it's difficult to judge their size and range, or if I sit higher than their tops. I try to project a flat line of sight, but where is my point of reference? How do I discern true horizontal?

The spring snow and crisp air lend clarity to the highest mountains, but even this clarity deceives. I see canyons and escarpments in great detail within the far mountains, but I have no idea of their scale. They appear quite close.... perhaps only a few miles off, though I know this to be an illusion.... a deception of distance.... one made worse when these far-off peaks are framed directly over much closer foothills and formations.... which turns out to be a common illusion, demonstratable by backing away from any window with gaze fixed on an outside object, which draws closer as it fills up the frame....

When the haze returns, ridge lines will be sorted by shades of purple smoke.... yet still no reliable point of reference.... The sweeps of raw sculpture cannot be grasped as a whole.... perhaps ridge to ridge at best, though elements of myth tend to inhabit the far ridge, in rich strata of imagination, dangerously near the subconscious. The scale is simply too immense and wide-open to taken as pure rational science.

Thousands come here to find rugged salvation when all other beliefs come up empty, or to simply slip under the radar. I pass through straight-laced Mormon settlements and the quagmire of Vegas.... a theme of extreme.... the same intractable desert compulsion tied to its own heat-stroke logic, which powers a shimmer across the dry lakes and propels the faithful to their singular resolution. There is no middle ground. Those who seek this place have the one true faith or are convinced they will find it by means never before imagined or pulled off just right. Look for preachers and outlaws.... prospectors, all of them. See if you can tell them apart.

The desert extorts philosophy with its tricks of light and elevation. I climb a slope toward a mesa. Which is better? A view of the mesa or a view from the top? Have I climbed far enough already? Keep in mind that a little elevation goes a long way here, free of forest entanglement.... Perhaps the mesa top is worth a shot. But why would someone climb a mountain? Because it's there.... apparently. I suppose I also carry this ethic, but my version is considerably more horizontal. I've noticed a distinct lack of return for continued elevation gain once I've topped three, maybe four-thousand feet over the basin floor, similar to, say, a bell-curve of drinking.... or politics.... or religion. How high is high enough for best returns? Above what point is the excercise rendered a sort of questionable sporting event?

Summit photos are generally of clouds and ice.... impressive mainly as proof of athletic achievement. Above, say, eight-thousand feet or so, it takes a rocket ride to get my attention. Who remembers Apollo Eight and the Earthrise photo? Who remembers the earth as a thumb-sized lifeboat? Now that was a summit photo to inspire great awe, even if it was taken by a hardnosed military officer who was trying to beat the Russians. It was possibly the most groundbreaking and instructive photo ever taken. Now it is a lost artifact.... a missed opportunity.

I have my mesa top. I rest on the edge and take notes. I've climbed high enough, at least for now.

[sooZen]

Good stuff as usual Mark.

I know exactly what you are talking about when trying to measure the distances in the desert, especially with no tree lines to judge by.

People here think hiking up the Franklins would be a breeze until they send in the emergency rescue crews and the helicopter.

I remember that photo of the earth from space well. Stewart Brand put it on the cover of the first Whole Earth Catalog...waaaay before we could use these computer contraptions to find what we needed. That image is burned into my memory. For the first time we could see what a jewel and how fragile this lovely marble is...

Keep up the travelogue and your sunburnt philosophies. I really dig them. Watch out for rattler's and outlaws alike.

Smacks,
SooZen

[hester_prynne]

"Prospectors, all of them...."
God, I love this line...this concept...put this way.
And that's just one line of it! The way you describe the grades of the road coming up and down, the compulsion of the desert, the questioning of where the top spots are...WOW....no kiddin this is first rate stuff.

Mnaz, this book you are growing is just damned stellar!

I want a signed copy already....
great post!

H

[sooZen]

m-naz... another thoughtful piece, and as the others before this, sights and scenes captured fruitfully well, as I bite into each word and savor the flavor.

keep it up, bud... these, like Hes' says, are stellar writings.

thx,

cec'

[mnaz]

Thanks for reading, everyone....


There will indeed be a book some day, out of all this quiet, rambling sunburnt obsession....well, at least one which family and friends may want to read....

It is hard to put in words the feeling of these brilliant, empty places.... though the first time I experienced it, I knew I had to give it a shot. The late Edward Abbey touched on this a few times in Desert Solitaire, the difficulty of description and relative lack of literature about the desert, or even attempts at same.... he was the real deal.... a skilled desert survival expert who endured more hardship and took more risks than I probably ever will.....

I'm just trying to convey the wonder of simply being out there on the back roads, I guess....