So my great grandpa was a cowboy, a real cowboy I think. He ran cattle in southern Utah the early part of the twentieth century in some of the most incredible country on earth. As most family histories (probably all history) goes, I'm sure that his legend has been unintentionally sensationalized by descendants as we try to understand his life and add a sense of credibility to our own. I wish I really knew what his life was like. I think I'd be most interested in knowing the minutiae and not the less common hair-raising or exciting moments that we generally use to try to characterize someone's life. As a family we have tried tracing his footsteps and getting a sense for what he may have experienced on the Colorado Plateau through a yearly pilgrimage to Comb Wash near Blanding. From there we begin our annual exploration of what I'm sure is God's Country.
Jack and I had an incredible time. I'm sure we broke some of Hailey's rules. Riding in the back of trucks, drinking more than one glass of chocolate milk a day, climbing (sometimes passing a 3 year old) up and down sandstone cliffs, and playing with sticks in the fire. I did keep some of the rules - he didn't get any treats after not eating hit peanut butter sandwich and here he is in time out for calling me an idiot
We hiked to a handful of ruins in some beautiful canyons. He was initially disappointing that we never ran into any Anasazi and kept asking where they had gone. Trust me we looked hard enough that if they were there we would have seen them
In the end I'm sure Jack loved his experience, although he had little idea that we were doing this as part of an unending quest to understand who we come from and who we are. Maybe his great great grandpa smiling down from from somewhere, glad that we are at least trying.
5 comments:
I think this is your BEST post ever! I really love how you wrote your experience and I love that Jack wanted to see the Anasazi people...me too buddy!
It looks so beautiful and you both got better weather than we did.
I miss you guys! You only have a day and a half before the rule enforcer comes home.
Dude, chocolate milk, cliff houses and skeleton gloves, beat my adventures hands down..... when does this old drug store cowboy get to come??
Quite possibly the first post I've ever read using the word minutiae. Let alone about hiking. Only a genius could combine such heightened thoughts with such a common (non-pejorative) experience...all brought back to reality by a time-out. This is Fathering at its best.
Yep - this is one beautiful post! What a great father-son (and great, great-grandfather, too!) outing. Even though it stresses me out to no end to think of what happens when the mom's not around our house to keep the rules.... :)
Steve that is an incredibly well-written post. My friend, you live a charmed life. I wish so badly it hurts that we lived close enough that I could join you on some of these adventures. I share your love for that country (although for less altruistic reasons). Have you ever stopped to consider how difficult two years in Chicago is going to be on you? Like John Taylor, I guess you're a Utah boy "died in the wool, true blue, through and through." Keep writing, Stevinsky. Every post gets Old Eddy Abbey quaking in his grave.
Post a Comment