A March across Powell, 20

July 19, 2016  •  Leave a Comment

Thursday, March 20, 2014

I woke last night while the moon was up and shot a panorama of Hole in the Rock. Even by moonlight it looks like a crazy wagon ride to the bottom.

This morning I paddled the two miles to the confluence with the Escalante River. I turned north into the Escalante arm and then after a few bends in the channel made another left into Clear Creek Canyon.  At the back of the canyon is one of the gems of the Glen Canyon Recreation Area: Cathedral in the Desert. Fortunately I'm here in a low water year since at full-pool the nave and lower part of the apse are buried in the black depths of the lake.  When exposed, the apse is especially majestic in that it includes a small perennial waterfall which, luckily for me, is partially exposed.

At the back of the apse (or alcove) is a sandbar just big enough for a dry campsite. As I paddle in there's another boat (~20' motorboat) nosed into the sand. As I beach the kayak and climb out, the boat's occupants greet me and we chat for a few minutes while we eat our respective lunches. They're from Draper, UT and are out for the first run of the season. Soon, they'll be down here again with their grandkids. As they're readying to go I ask them if by any chance they have a half-roll of toilet paper they could gift me. Thankfully they have one and even more thankfully they're willing to share, so I thank them profusely and they motor off.

The rumbling of their motor persists for a few minutes after they disappear around the bend but soon it fades to silence. I'm alone.

So what's the point of assuming a deterministic view of life? I dunno, maybe there isn't any point.

I started this line of thought based on the discussion Anna and I were having when she posed the question 'what's wrong with the world?' (I'm paraphrasing a bit but that was the gist of it.) If we answer that question; or any other like it, such as 'what's wrong with my life' or ' what's wrong with my spouse' or 'if you could change one thing about blah, what would it be'; from a deterministic point of view the answer will always be the same: 'nothing'. Nothing is wrong with the world, with my life, with my spouse. Everything is exactly the way that it should be. In fact the world, my life, my spouse, are perfect just as they are.

Maybe there is a point after all.

I spend the afternoon experimenting with my camera and resting. As the sun sets beyond my narrow view of the sky the light in the canyon dims and bats, at least five of them, flap about in the void above me. As I sit quietly, still, watching, some pass so close I can hear the hushed flap-tap-flap of their wings as they beat past my head hunting the bugs that are bugging me.


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