2024-05-19
Last night, we went to the public campground up on Muley Point. We wanted to see what the view was on the other side of the hill, why the other visitors were going that way and if we may be missing something. I wrapped a kilt around me and DF pulled over her sundress as we were sure to be confronted by convention. We encountered friendly people, families and a pair of pals playing catch in the road with a football. Bike riders sat looking too exhausted to set up any camp.
The view was magnificent, of course, generally the same from a different angle.
There were pets. A cattle dog comes running out at me with her objections, as some dogs do. Then she stops to wag her tail and accept a scratch behind the ears. I figure that we’re good, as with all other dog encounters throughout my life. As soon as I stand upright she viciously bites my ankle with full force. Not a nip, but full attack.
No apparent breaks, I’m with pain and bloody as the owner arrives. “She hasn’t been herself since she got in a fight a couple of days ago.”
I’m thinking, “If I had been a small child, or if I had had a pistol with me,” as I limp off. Eventually, the deep wound doesn’t heal until a month passes.
This peninsula in a sea of sky is not our style at all. This is nothing about nature other than an impressive view. We are happy to return to our camp of solitude.
The Next Morning:
The next morning, we are up for breakfast and to break camp. We’re going to the Valley of the Gods. By 11am, once again, we’re in the one lane curves and cliff’s drop-offs of the Moki Dugway. This time however we’re heading downhill and there’s more traffic today. I’m relieved to reach the green plain at the bottom.
Very soon after reaching the base, there’s a turnoff into “The Valley of the Gods,” which has just a simple blue sign pointing to a dirt road. Soon, we arrive at a simple forest service kiosk. It pleads, “Please don’t make any new campsites and stay on the roads. No fires.” Every campsite has a fire pit and ashes. It presents a frequently heavily dipped road. The sign reads, “impassible when wet.”
Obviously, this place, like the Ironwood National Monument has an inadequate budget, or no real protections. It is a victim of the resentments and tug of war in our two party political system. It is strained by one side doing its best to preserve our people’s heritage and another side representing wealthy groups that would gut and exploit it all.
After a series of mammoth platform pedestals, the behemoths rise up. I can see “Valley of the Gods” in rock forms, near and far!
The Free Range Naturist 