On My Own

     I have just left the southern part of the Staircase Monument Escalante in Utah.  Little did I know how different my experience in camping was going to be moving into Utah.  I knew that change was coming and that I was venturing into a new stage of my journey, but of course I knew not how this would occur. It turns out, I had to face some real fears.  Up until now, I have been in various types of campsites, some better than others.  Escalante is a whole different ballgame, particularly in the south near the Arizona border,  It is rugged and wild with few places to "hook in", so to speak.  Two angels, however, pointed me in the very same direction, one being a young woman ranger from the Grand Canyon area, and another more seasoned woman camper working at the BLM Visitors Center in Utah.  Both of these women told me to go to the same canyon, Cottonwood Canyon.  That sounds fairly innocent, but it is truly not.  It is gorgeous, however, but there are really no sites to speak of.  This is rancher country and pretty untouched, one of the newer monuments.  If you want to get a feeling of the southwest without much tourism, come here.  You get a true feeling of what it is like to be alone in nature that totally engulfs you.  The quiet, particularly on a weekday, is extraordinary.  I was able to tuck behind some very large boulders with my camper.  The road going through the monument is sandy, curvy and very hilly. 
     I cannot say that I was completely without fear.  I had never camped in a dispersed area, (public land available for camping but not particularly set aside for it), and I had never camped in my camper without hookups of any kind, not to mention complete solitude.  I knew this would probably happen, and I had a feeling that it needed to happen in order to strengthen my courage.  I had a low level of fear these few days simply because it was so wild.  Even the trails were hard to follow, but I must confess, I did not do any preparation in regard to this.
     My first hike in the morning and early afternoon ended up following cattle paths along a trickle of a river that went along this canyon.  It was ever so quiet, and I had to bushwack my way through a good bit of brush to find the paths.  I did get lost on the way back and had to talk a bit to myself to keep my calm.  Luckily, I knew where the road was and I knew where the water was.  I enjoyed it, but felt a little uncomfortable with really no trails to speak of.  At this point, I decided to try another trail in a narrow canyon about 10 miles up the road.

Along the way, I stopped at a broken down car.  Antone, the owner of the car, was waiting patiently, more patiently than I would have, because he had no phone service and a serious problem with his car.  Did I say that we were in the middle of no where??!!  Another couple who I had met at the last trailhead had also stopped to let Antone use their phone.  We all talked for a bit, and through the help and phone service of Rick and Susie, were able to get hold of his insurance agent, and what we thought was a towing service who would be on their way.  I told Antone that I would check on him on my way back to my camper after hiking.  Susie and Rick, my new hiking buddies, and I went on into the Upper Hackberry Trail in the Narrows.
     This hike was in a slot canyon.  Quite beautiful, cool in temperature, with a sandy bottom.  It is such a different feel in these slot canyons.  They tower over you yet almost embrace you at the same time.  We ended up going into a tributary to see a sand fall that was quite extraordinary.  I must say, it was nice to visit with people after my long hike alone in the morning.  My low level of fear subsided for awhile. 
     Now mind you, I was not terribly afraid, but our culture teaches us to be afraid of being alone in nature, of strangers, and of wild animals, particularly if you are a woman alone. I had fears of all these during this time.   Our culture does nothing to prepare women to be careful, yet have confidence in themselves that they can handle many more situations than we typically do.  I am not talking about women who have grown up with this county lifestyle, but someone like me who grew up in a city.  I so wish that women and this new generation of men were being taught how to take care of themselves using learned skills and an attitude of respect and confidence so that we could experience so much more of the world without fear. If you already feel confident and have these skills, please do not be offended.  I just think that for women, in particular, we would be able to transfer that kind of confidence into our normal lives and for our own needs a lot more seamlessly. 
     With all that said, I did have low levels of fear, but instead of backing out or not getting out on these hikes and roads, I did it anyway, with care.  I have learned that courage is more about walking into fear and being OK about walking in it rather than being oblivious to it.  I feel that this experience was preparing me for what is to come.  I do not know what that is after today, but I am in Bryce Canyon area now and decided to do more dispersed camping out in the Dixie National Forest.  This place seems like a breeze compared to where I was, despite not having any water, electricity, or neighbors. 
I feel that it is now time for me to start gaining more courage and strength for some reason, so here goes. 
     As a side note, Antone was still at his car when I returned.  The tow truck had not come, so we called again, and he waited until way after dark for the truck to find him.  He,  I might add, had this confidence I have been speaking of.  In fact, I just returned to my camper here in Bryce and received a call from him saying that he is almost home to Idaho.  That's what getting to know strangers is all about.  Thank you, Antone.  We need to stick together as wonderful human beings.  It does take a village.

The Drive Out of the Canyon the Next Morning!