Occupation of Independence

 It is easy to walk through canyons and enjoy the weird shapes left by water eroding conglomerate or mudstone at differential rates. Wouldn't it be nice if you could look at the destruction of your civilization and society and at least see some beauty in that destruction?  That might sound like a perverse wish, but since you can't do anything about that destruction as a puny individual... It would be better to think of some way you can push back against the destruction in a way that fits the limited powers that you have.  Ahh but such thoughts are too gloomy.  Let's think about joyful animal spirits: "I like the look on ol' Pop's face when I do things like this!"

Some years back I knew of a Tucson hiker who told of a member in his hiking club who always dismantled rock cairns on hikes. "What a kook or hothead!," I thought.  So it is ironic that I find myself doing the same thing, these days.   It brings to mind some Old Testament prophet smiting idols or graven images.   That is not quite the right analogy.  What was the cairn-builder thinking, anyway?  Is building cairns the moral equivalent of spraying rocks with graffiti?  Or maybe the cairn-builder actually thought they were performing a public service?  What comes next, after the cairns:  brown carsonite stakes, and then hand-rails?  A paved trail, caches of emergency supplies, and a motor vehicle shuttle, waiting at the far end?  And of course, fees and a reservation system. If a hiker got lost in the canyon, they would not die; it would just take longer to walk out of the canyon than they anticipated.  So what?  Besides, anyone seriously lost or injured should always backtrack

 (Almost Lake Mead.)  The Little Cute One sure loved our walk through the canyon system.  She was off-leash so she could practice her cliff-climbing skills. Apparently there has been a generational improvement in the RV demographic.  Years ago I never saw anyone walking through the canyon.  RVers just sat in their rigs all day and did whatever they did. But now there seems to be more hikers.  Maybe that was the explanation for the rock cairns on our walking route.  (I dismantled most of them.) (A rant against rock arrangements by snowbirds has been redacted...) Anyway we walked upstream in the bottom of the canyon.  There seemed to be a lot of erosion left over from summer, I guess.  I even saw hoof-prints and cow poop, evidence of more vegetation than usual.  Finally we startled a cow and a steer, who came running towards me, as I hurriedly snapped Q.t. π   back on her leash. As it turned out, an eBike was coming downstream, and it was he that frightened the cattle.  That is the first

Before a camper gets too far south, the camping changes.  There are other campers everywhere. "Dispersed" camping is not very dispersed at all. Perhaps this should be the year I practice what I preach: accept the fact that you can't get away from other campers, and deliberately move close to solarized campers.  That is pretty easy to do.  With practice you can glance at a camper a long way off and tell that they should be avoided.  The signs are: noisy motorsports around their rig;  a toy hauler (fifth wheel trailer);  ID or MT license plates; no line of solar panels on the roof; a construction site generator on the ground; a long thick extension cord coming off their rig. Consider this rig: He could be a great guy and a good camping neighbor, but as you scout out a neighborhood you should stay clear of a rig like this.  What exactly is in that box on the upper story?  But if you look closely, you can see a solar panel on the roof.  So he might be OK. I guess I just do