Notes From the Road: Wrap Up, Wind Down
8:30pm. Great Basin National Park, NV. Saw a couple of cross country bikers on Hwy 21. Ran into one at the store (the only store) in Baker, NV right outside the park. He was going from Atlanta to Vancouver with an ETA of June 10.
It's all tiny towns out here and makes you wonder what people do for supplies and fresh produce as most of the stores stock crap or cater to tourists passing through, and none of the desert soil looks very fertile for farming. And how does Escalante Outfitters in Utah have wireless internet? Is Polygamy Porter actually good like the hippie guy said?
I finally broke down and bought Guns, Germs and Steel - can't put it down. The owner of the bookstore seemed pretty interesting - had that aged Buddhist hippie quality a la Arcata or the artist commune in Petaluma. She sounded really well-read and had a great book collection, but she made this comment that only a white person would make (again a la Arcata). "I find all these Asian writers have such a different way of using language to tell their stories than other writers." As if they all write in a similar Asian-specific style. Christ sake! She pointed to Amy Tan, Maxine Hong Kingston and Jhumpa Lahiri, all of whose styles couldn't be more different from each other. And if you were to read them next to other American writers, you wouldn't know they were "Asian," but somehow white people always seem to feel the need to lump people of similar non-white races together, even if they mean well like the bookstore owner. No one would ever say, gee, John Irving, Stephen King and Tom Robbins all have a way of writing that's so different from other American writers. Anyone who has read them knows that they're all very different from each other, and it makes no sense to lump them together in a single category of white writers.
Also wondered how English came to be so widely spoken in the U.S. in a way that's not seen in any other country. The rural poor, urban rich, working class, nearly everyone except for recent immigrant communities speak English, whereas in other countries you have whole regions that don't speak the national language unless they are educated or well-traveled.
No hippies here, but I went barefoot through Coyote Gulch (the debate rages - was is part of Glen Canyon or Grand Staircase-Escalante?) and now I know why people feel spiritually and literally more connected to the earth when they're barefoot. I haven't done it since I was a kid. You really feel where you are, literally every step of the way. You feel how hot the sun is and how it penetrates the sand and rocks and river around you, not just how it feels on your back and face. You get to know the character of the stones in the river, the ones in the stagnant clay, the slippery ones in the falls, the sharp ones that haven't been eroded as much because they are off to the side a bit, the stiff grass with pricklies, the strange green stalks growing along the banks, the hard-packed sand on the trails, the soft quicksand in the certain spots, the cold, sticky clay. There's something really sensual about feeling things through your feet. There's also something really natural, like it was meant to be this way, about clipping your toenails outdoors, on a log, among the tall grasses.
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Don't go away, there's more to this post...
It's all tiny towns out here and makes you wonder what people do for supplies and fresh produce as most of the stores stock crap or cater to tourists passing through, and none of the desert soil looks very fertile for farming. And how does Escalante Outfitters in Utah have wireless internet? Is Polygamy Porter actually good like the hippie guy said?
I finally broke down and bought Guns, Germs and Steel - can't put it down. The owner of the bookstore seemed pretty interesting - had that aged Buddhist hippie quality a la Arcata or the artist commune in Petaluma. She sounded really well-read and had a great book collection, but she made this comment that only a white person would make (again a la Arcata). "I find all these Asian writers have such a different way of using language to tell their stories than other writers." As if they all write in a similar Asian-specific style. Christ sake! She pointed to Amy Tan, Maxine Hong Kingston and Jhumpa Lahiri, all of whose styles couldn't be more different from each other. And if you were to read them next to other American writers, you wouldn't know they were "Asian," but somehow white people always seem to feel the need to lump people of similar non-white races together, even if they mean well like the bookstore owner. No one would ever say, gee, John Irving, Stephen King and Tom Robbins all have a way of writing that's so different from other American writers. Anyone who has read them knows that they're all very different from each other, and it makes no sense to lump them together in a single category of white writers.
Also wondered how English came to be so widely spoken in the U.S. in a way that's not seen in any other country. The rural poor, urban rich, working class, nearly everyone except for recent immigrant communities speak English, whereas in other countries you have whole regions that don't speak the national language unless they are educated or well-traveled.
No hippies here, but I went barefoot through Coyote Gulch (the debate rages - was is part of Glen Canyon or Grand Staircase-Escalante?) and now I know why people feel spiritually and literally more connected to the earth when they're barefoot. I haven't done it since I was a kid. You really feel where you are, literally every step of the way. You feel how hot the sun is and how it penetrates the sand and rocks and river around you, not just how it feels on your back and face. You get to know the character of the stones in the river, the ones in the stagnant clay, the slippery ones in the falls, the sharp ones that haven't been eroded as much because they are off to the side a bit, the stiff grass with pricklies, the strange green stalks growing along the banks, the hard-packed sand on the trails, the soft quicksand in the certain spots, the cold, sticky clay. There's something really sensual about feeling things through your feet. There's also something really natural, like it was meant to be this way, about clipping your toenails outdoors, on a log, among the tall grasses.
==============
Don't go away, there's more to this post...
posted by Justina at 8:50 PM
2 Comments:
Your comments help me understand a puzzle I've wundered about for some time. I have a book on Eastern Philosophy and a book on Chinese Philosophy but the Chinese book is bigger. I have always thougt the reverse should be true because the one ought to be contained in the other. Now I realize both books are bogus generalizations that are probably not accurate at all (Please forgive me. I'm trying to be funny.) On a serious side, my wife and I love the part of Great Basin you toured. We owned 40 acres north of you in Clover Valley. We put an easment on it from hwy 93 and nothing else. It allowed us to camp in the middle of that beautiful land and feal the connection you talk about. Camping there in the winter is the most pricarious thrill. Your life is really in danger. The cold is savire and you are likely to be eaten before being found if you did die. Yet, nothing is as nice as that level of connection with the universe. Did you see the stars on your visit? I hope so. I've never seen so many as there. Thanks. Hope all is still well. Please forgive the spelling. I'm late for work and don't have time to fix it.
It is nice of you to link the Asian Womans Shelter on your site. My wife and I suffer immence pain from the ease of our lives and the realization of others hardship. We go to church, make small donations here and their, but when it is all said and done we wish we could stop Cain from slaying Able. Movies like Hotel Rwanda kills us, and homelessness tortures our soul. We have many Hmung neighbers. We sort of adopted the kids of one family, because they number 16 in total. You can guess how much extra money there is in that household. We just took them to the travaling circus that hits town one day a year. It was fantastic. They are very good kids. I am a stepfather of two grown girls and I still enjoy making the little buggers happy when I get the chance. I don't know Why I'm writing all this. We did make a small contribution to the Alcatraze swim fund raiser. My grandfather used to belong to the Dolphin Club in Frisco and he helped with that swim for various groups often. Sorry about the long windedness. Hope all is well.
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