My Southwest adventure/”soul” vacation
– December 2017
Day I
Why,
hello, Everett!
I
am delighted to find the book of my soul traveler, Everett Ruess—which includes
his journal writings, letters, and woodcut artwork—among the Grand Canyon
library that my Airbnb hosts have thoughtfully assembled for their guests in
this little one room, self-contained apartment. I have just arrived in
Flagstaff, Arizona, on Day 1 of this solo travel adventure that will take me
across Arizona and New Mexico. I confess that the miles and six-plus hours’
drive from Redlands, California, to Flagstaff, Arizona, were accompanied by not
a little bit of creeping self-doubt that I would find what I was “looking for”
on this trip. So, finding Everett Ruess’ “A Vagabond for Beauty” waiting for me
was a kind of affirmation that I was on the right road!
“Adventure is for the adventurous. My
face is set. I go to make my destiny. May many another youth by me be inspired
to leave the snug safety of his rut, and follow his fortune to other lands.”
~Everett Ruess
Ah,
yes, isn’t that why I am venturing out? Everett’s words strike a chord in my
heart. I have been, as he suggests in his sublime encouragement to others, in a rut. My work in public relations at
a women’s liberal arts college is fine, but does not fulfill my creative urges;
I am still in “recovery” from a twenty-year marriage that I finally had the
courage to end; I teach part-time as an adjunct professor at a nearby
university at night; my children are grown and self-sufficient. By all
accounts, I have a pretty good life. And yet, I find myself at mid-life trying
to figure out “what’s next?” I definitely feel—no, I know—that I am in a period
of transition.
In
times past, when I have made a transition in life, I felt scared and excited at
the same time. And, based on history, I should know that what will happen in
the future will be wonderful, no matter what kind of trepidation I feel along
the way. In fact, I’ve never gotten “stuck” – caught up in my own drama, or
forgetting to “grow” – for very long. Encountering Everett at this juncture is
like reacquainting with an old friend, and a muse.
Everett
Ruess was an artistic, adventurous young man who set out alone several times to
experience the beauty, as well as the fury, of nature in the American West.
During the 1930s, he met and discussed art with painter Maynard Dixon, and with
well-known photographers Ansel Adams, Edward Weston and Dorothea Lange. He was
lured first by the splendors of Yosemite and the California coast, and later by
portions of the lonely red rock lands of Utah and Arizona. In November 1934, at
age twenty, Everett disappeared from the canyon country near Escalante, Utah,
and was never seen again. Although his burros were found some distance from his
last camp, his fate remains a mystery.
I
first read the book in 1990. One of my all time favorite letters by Everett
Ruess was one where he was reminding his family to use his pen name, Lam Rameau
(not "Sam") as he tested their parental inclination to send food his
way, very specifically requesting Swedish bread, peanut butter, pop and Grape
Nuts while he traversed the West on foot or riding a burro, writing, drawing, talking
with locals and natives, as a young man circa 1932.
Following
is a photo of that letter. And, a "Happy Journeys" Christmas card he made as a
blockprint, to send to his family from his travels afar.
What
drew me in to Ruess' story was his drive to spend months on these solo travels,
searching for his own unique connection to the land, its people, and its
massive, piercing beauty, yet all the while staying connected to those he
loved—he was but a teenager when he first ventured out, and was gone for years,
only occasionally making the trek back to the "home base."
The
special connection for me was that I originally bought the book on my first
solo adventure to the Grand Canyon/Four Corners region—specifically at Marble
Canyon Lodge—not long after having moved to California from Arkansas. I had
struck out in my Acura Legend, a fast and comfortable, beautiful sedan,
determined to cover Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and the southwest corner of
Colorado as a single woman. Unattached at the time, and feeling quite
courageous, I was 31 years old, and single, when I was introduced to Ruess’s
book at the gift shop there, bought an extra copy and shipped it to my dad in
Louisiana thinking he'd enjoy it, too.
The
coincidence that thrilled me at the time was that Dad called me in California,
a very rare behavior (him using the phone, I mean) to thank me and report that
he had read Ruess' letters in high school in Long Beach in 1942-44, where his
Arkansas family had migrated to work during the WWII war effort.
The
first book was called On Desert Trails, which was apparently published within
just a few years of Ruess’s death. This later collection—the one I had bought
in 1990—was much expanded in "A Vagabond for Beauty," the first book
of mostly letters having been out of print for decades. Ruess is legend in
these parts, as he disappeared mysteriously, his remains were never found,
presumed having perished in a flash flood in one of the deep canyons he loved
so much. There have been rumors and speculation that he was murdered, and all
kinds of folk tales in the 80-plus years since his death. There's more to my
thematic connection to Ruess that I'll save for another day. Here are links for
more information about this enigmatic traveler, poet, diarist, artist:
But,
for this leg of my journey through Arizona and New Mexico, reading Everett’s
words and being reminded of my connection to his wanderlust, and his writing
about it, helped assuage any lingering worries I had about whether I would
“find” what I was looking for on this sojourn.
Who
was that Karen, all those years ago on that adventure across four states? What
was she looking for? And, who is this Karen, 27 years later? I had already
lived 11 years longer than Everett Ruess, when I first encountered his talent
in 1990. Did his intensely creative and short life propel or inspire me in some
way at that tender age? Why, at 58 years of age, as I am single again, and back
out on the road for some self discovery—or rather, what—am I hoping to find?
Unfortunately,
I didn’t chronicle my adventures in those days, so much of my life history and
preoccupation with “becoming” is forever lost. I suppose in a way my journaling
like this, my writing as I go, is a way to help me focus on becoming who I am.
I hope that makes sense. Maybe it only makes sense to me. If no one else ever
reads this, which, if it is truly a journal and remains so, it doesn’t really
matter. If this becomes a memoir or something else intended to help others,
then perhaps some sense-making is necessary. I will try to sort it out as I go.
This
kind of process requires some combination of experiencing life “out there,” and
also taking the time to reflect, write, and sort of dialogue with yourself, to
get what’s in your head down on paper. Or, in this case, in a digital file. As
I travel, I’ve been talking with people, interviewing them when they will let
me, taking notes in a small black notebook, writing as I can while in transit,
then coming back to the laptop to expand on my day and thoughts.
On
Day 1 of my travels, finding Everett Ruess’s “Vagabond” book and knowing I
could spend some time with him was grounding for me. Wanderlust for him was
getting out in nature, and getting far away from civilization. And yet, he was
also connected, and wrote to and about the people who were important to him on
his journeys. In that respect, we are alike. The connection and writing parts,
I mean. I don’t intend to venture far away from civilization on this trip.
Though in 1990, I was much braver, I think, and had taken my bicycle with me
and ridden many miles by myself out on lonely beautiful Arizona and New Mexico
roads. Which reminds me, it was summer. This trip, I did not bring my bicycle,
thinking it way too cold. It is, after all, December 22.
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