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Show THE ZEPHYR/DEC-JAN 2008 making big music in the sky. Life really dug life, and learned how to keep s the ball rolling; sometimes splitting itself in two, or sifting the wind for multiplication ingredients. Some organisms reproduced sexually, one and one comin together to make three. Life was always mak- ing. And sometimes when it rains, it pours; and the water falls over the canyon walls and the universe sings. Humans went sexual. They reveled in it, rolled in it, lollygagged in it, and. growled © wildly in it (retaining a vague primordial connection.) Thus sprouted Culture - with its tall buildings, elaborate display behaviors, and plastics, complete with physicists and lamas debating various essences. A segment of humans decided the purpose of Life was - to live it. Some of these happy fuckers gawked at the land and sky, walked chrysalis become : oo into the wide, saw remember there being any crickets though I’m sure there must have been one. Then I heard a couple of halting steps from a hooved animal not very far away. I listened intently. A few seconds later there were a few more steps; definitely hooves on rocks coming closer; probably a small deer. But no matter how hard I stared into the blackness, I couldn’t see a thing. And the deer couldn’t see me either so it continued down the drainage that ran between the fins; not more than a dozen feet in front of me making, what seemed to me, a horrendous racket as it passed within a few feet of me in the pitch-black shadow of the rock. : I didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. The deer went past me, on down the drainage and finely out of earshot. I sat there transfixed by the close encounter. Did he see me? Did he sense my presence like I felt his? I will never know; but I knew then and there that I had found special world. 2 : ou, at the base of Pike’s Peak in Colorado. I got the walking on two legs, by the river, along the bottom of the red-walled canyons, giving thanks for having been so formed as to respond with ecstacy to the beauty and the mystery. Late at night, animated by the dance, spent on a white sand beach, with the river-roar; the universe flopped on its back, looked up into itself, through the canyon-slivered twinkling black, and fell into a perfect dream-filled sleep. Despite the fashionable worries and impending disasters, it was a great time to be alive. perfect as I would like. Thanks, that the full weight and buoyancy of my life is my perfect moment. Like everything, it is just not as When I was a wee boy of about 10, it couldn’t have been better. We lived in the town of mani_ my first bike then, a “Big Tires” bike. My dad | bought it used but painted it and put new grips | on it and it looked brand new. I never rode a | bike so ] pushed it back and forth from one end _ of the dirt road to the next. Eventually, I got on | and finally began to ride it. BUT that was as far as I could go, because to go any further, I _ would have to do down a very steep hill and | off to the right, half way down, it was almost _ straight down. So there I sat, day after day, at the end of the oad, looking downit, trying to get up the nerve, butterfly. The universe fell in love with itself; WAYNE HOSKISSON...MOAB, UTAH How would I know a perfect moment from an imperfect moment? Was my first backpacking trip a perfect moment? It lasted for over a week. I built my own backpack frame from hickory staves. My mother sewed the packbag from waxed canvas. We rode in the back of an old two and a half ton White truck to the south slope of the Uinta Mountains. We spent the next ten days walking through woods and meadows, across alpine tundra and over rocky passes. I remember it as perfect even though older companions told me I was whiny, slow, and too young to do the hike well. That was around 1960. I remember it well and I incorrectly remember it was perfect. It was by no means a moment. That homemade pack rests against the wall upstairs. I visit if often. But what I came to realize is : PEE WEE RUDD...DEVILS CANYON, UTAH _ nally, on Day 6 maybe (?), off I went, down the | steep road, foot on coaster brake, slidirig on the * way down, for about a city block. Then I’d turn around, walk part way, ride part way. Each time I got back on and rode back down, I did it with less sliding and less braking, until finally I had it mastered! That was one of my all-time favorite moments. LEE BRIDGERS...MOAB, UTAH ‘ I was sitting in my favorite hangout in Amsterdam, an art gallery/bar/restaurant, listening to an LP I brought into the place for the bartender to play whenever I was there. I was living nearby on a small sailboat with no electricity, so this was the only way for me to listen to recorded music at that time. I was just high enough——loose, happy, very excited over a new job with a big music publishing company in Los Angeles. I also remember that I was also truly relieved by the most recent departure of a friend who was getting on my nerves. At one point in the evening a very pretty and very sad girl sat on the bar stool be- side me. When our eyes met for the first time, I JOHN MASON...SEATTLE, WASHINGTON asked impulsively, without a second of hesitation, “”Do you want to fall in love, get married ; My first trip to Moab was in 1970. A well-traveled friend from England paid us a visit at summer and my wife and I de-cided that Southeastern Utah might - impress him. We had not been there | either, so we loaded him, and have kids?”” After about a half an hour we left together and have not been apart for more than two weeks since that day in early October 1972. We fell in love immediately. We got married 8 months later in North Carolina and had two kids in the next twelve years while living in San Francisco. Our daughter our two | boys and our hand-me-down camp| ing gear in our 1959 Cadillac and set | off for a long weekend tour of the red rocks. We camped the first night at | arches. The campground was full. | The ranger told us to find a spot in the picnic area to camp. He also said “don’t build a fire.” It was the middle of July; we had no interest in a fire. We pitched our 6 x 6 canvas as umbrella tent, threw our bags out on air mattresses and tried to sleep on top of the bags. It was so hot that I spent a long time sitting, leaning against a juniper tree near our tent after everyone else had gone to bed. We were camped between two slickrock fins. I could see the moonlight on the tops of the fins but nothing in the shadow of the fin about 20 yards in front of me. It got very quiet after everyone else had gone to sleep; no breeze, no bugs, I don’t even is now a lawyer in San Francisco, where we raised her. Our son is an accountant in North Carolina where my extended family resides. Both our children are in committed relationships at this point, carving out a life for themselves amid the fascism and folly of America in the early 21st century. Now ““empty nesters”” Miki and I live in Moab without friends or family, loners after all these years in a place where alone is.really ALONE. But, we still have each other, and when we no longer have each other, well, you can have what is left. At this point in my life, it ain’’t worth a damn without her. I have had many perfect moments. I have been blessed with magic and miracles that cannot really be shared, or understood by anyone but myself. But, meet my wife, or one of our kids, and you will find proof that love at first sight can not only last a lifetime and give one a reason to live with the horrors and absurdities of this life at this pivotal point in human history, it makes damn good babies, too. The picture is of my wife, Miki, and my son, Vincent, saying goodbye the last time we saw him on his way to North Carolina to be with his new love and blood relatives. continues on next page HUB OF MOAB CYCLERY , ¥ a foe? Ce. Wea C CLERY s a eo ssae cae oe 94 WEST 100 NORTH MOAB, UT 259.5333 rimcyclery.com CALL US TOLL-FREE ere meler meee Lata es e cacey ess eraeee een get MAPS & BOOKS a eey Nib) BN. MERCHANDISE | WEAR THIS CAP TO CONCEAL MY POINTY HEAD IS KELBY FULL OF HOLIDAY CHEER? - |
