“Thousands have lived without love, not one without water.” - W.H. Auden There are places in the American West that stay in your memory with the detail of great works of art. When I am rolling through the Coconino National Forest and over the Kaibab Plateau in Northern Arizona, I want to get off my motorcycle and walk into the ponderosa pine forests and never return. A sense of childish wonder gives me the same joy I knew when I first went exploring beyond my boyhood back yard, and when I come to a stop at the rim of the Grand Canyon, I understand why people warn you to never grow up. There is too much to see and do in the world to spend your time making mortgage payments.
There used to be springs and waterfalls in Colorado back in the 80s when I would go up there that had a common cup for hikers and travelers. A metal cup could be found hanging on a peg next to the waterfall or the artesian flow of the spring, and the water was crystal clear and safe to drink. I think you have to get up in the high country right next to the snowmelt to get that kind of water today. And the idea of a common cup for thirsty wanderers is a notion as silly as sitting on an airplane without a mask. Thanks for the note, Ed. We may be the last generation to even see the snow at the peaks of the Rockies.
My sense of hopelessness rises as does the indomitability of human selfishness. I don't have a lot of optimism for the survival of our species. We reap what we sow.
I hiked the Wyoming Trail from Steamboat to Wyoming a week or two ago. I returned via a loop around Mount Zirkel where I was able to experience one of my favorite routines while backpacking. I filled my water bottles with unfiltered water from streams flowing directly from the snowmelt at the top of the world. The snow was in front of me and the nation’s headwaters filled my pack’s reservoir. It was like being first in line to the water supply of the Upper Colorado Basin. Your story made me think of that wonderful experience, but also of my times camping along the Perdernales. And I recall skipping my high school graduation practice to water ski on Lake Travis. So sad.
As I sit on my front porch this Sunday morning in Michigan with a gentle rain falling, I realize what a blessing it is. We’ve waited awhile for such a beautiful rainfall. It’s been so dry here I’ve stopped nagging my husband to water the lawn. It seems the southwest heat has reached the Great Lakes State. We all need to conserve where we can on all our natural resources but water conservation is essential!! Great story Bro.
There used to be springs and waterfalls in Colorado back in the 80s when I would go up there that had a common cup for hikers and travelers. A metal cup could be found hanging on a peg next to the waterfall or the artesian flow of the spring, and the water was crystal clear and safe to drink. I think you have to get up in the high country right next to the snowmelt to get that kind of water today. And the idea of a common cup for thirsty wanderers is a notion as silly as sitting on an airplane without a mask. Thanks for the note, Ed. We may be the last generation to even see the snow at the peaks of the Rockies.
Well, we carry on, regardless.
There are moments even I miss Michigan, little sister!
for springs, we hope eternally.
Thanks for another terrific essay, Jim. I also like the maps and visualizations that show how dire the situation is.
My sense of hopelessness rises as does the indomitability of human selfishness. I don't have a lot of optimism for the survival of our species. We reap what we sow.
I hiked the Wyoming Trail from Steamboat to Wyoming a week or two ago. I returned via a loop around Mount Zirkel where I was able to experience one of my favorite routines while backpacking. I filled my water bottles with unfiltered water from streams flowing directly from the snowmelt at the top of the world. The snow was in front of me and the nation’s headwaters filled my pack’s reservoir. It was like being first in line to the water supply of the Upper Colorado Basin. Your story made me think of that wonderful experience, but also of my times camping along the Perdernales. And I recall skipping my high school graduation practice to water ski on Lake Travis. So sad.
As I sit on my front porch this Sunday morning in Michigan with a gentle rain falling, I realize what a blessing it is. We’ve waited awhile for such a beautiful rainfall. It’s been so dry here I’ve stopped nagging my husband to water the lawn. It seems the southwest heat has reached the Great Lakes State. We all need to conserve where we can on all our natural resources but water conservation is essential!! Great story Bro.