Chuck Pratt, Ed Abbey, and me on desert varnish
A Pioneer of American rock climbing: A (southwest) desert environment is maintained by an irresistible force whose nature cannot be penetrated by superficial effort (rock climbing). To gain any lasting worth from what the desert has to offer, we had to learn to put (our gear) away and explore in silence (listening), keeping our eyes very wide open.  It wasn't easy.  We wasted a lot of time climbing until we got the knack.

Gringo pioneer of American xeric nomadisism:
(The southwest desert) is the most beautiful place on earth. . . For myself, I'll take Moab, Utah.  I don't mean the town . . . but the canyon lands.  The slickrock . . . The red dust and the burnt cliffs . . . all that which lies beyond the end of the road.

A road trip is a good initial experience with the southwest.  With Tony and Terrence, in about 1976, winter, we left from Sacramento, California.  First stop Ogden, Utah, to see an old girl friend (not geriatric).  Then some ice climbing in Little Cottonwood Canyon.  Onto Zion and the beginning of our non climbing in the southwest — the four corners where Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona meet.  We knew — read — Pratt and Abbey as gurus and followed their lead.
 
     At Zion National Park, 2AM, very cold January night, storm ready to dump, we got to the the entrance up on the ridge.  In those years there was a ranger booth and a swing open barrier.  The gate was closed and secured with a lock the size of my fist.  Locked!?  Three youth wanting to get to the promised land down below in the valley.  A trio of inquisitive, never say die, rock climbers and tool men.  We merely unbolted the hinges, moved the contraption aside, drove in, and repaired our monkey wrench operation.  We opened bottles of Henry Weinhards finest, and drove into the tunnel.  Way too fast.
 
     Sometimes in life there are cosmic poops that threaten our freedom or progress and remind us why there are barriers.