The road not taken, yet

It’s looking like my journey is about to take a turn, about to evolve into something a bit…different.
Apparently the desert just does NOT want me to cross on foot, so I may have to change my plans.
I have been in contact with several people who live in the areas that I plan to cross through, and to a person they have told me that walking across Utah at this time of year, or almost any time of year, is a very, very bad idea. I, of course, wanna prove how tough and manly I am and wanna just scoot across, dealing with the heat and desolation of the Utah desert, the hundred mile stretches of road with no services, the rattlesnakes crawling into my tent at night as I camp, and who knows what other obstacles I might encounter. Add to that the statement by a guy who would know that I wouldnt even be able to physically carry enough water to sustain me. I wanna prove all of this wrong.
But I won’t.
I was almost convinced to take a different route, up north, through Wyoming, but that is a logistics nightmare as well, and not do-able. Then I was talking to a bike rider named Andrew Statyoo, or Statchoo, and he had ridden through the Indian reservations in northern New Mexico, and felt that while a bit desolate, it was cooler and a good option for me. But…he was on a bicycle, able to cover seventy plus miles a day. Ken Johnson, an old comrade from my school daze/days, is pretty knowledgeable about the area, and has friends who live in this section of the country as well, feels that northern Arizona and New Mexico, while difficult, are a bit easier due to still being part of the plateau that Colorado is on and is cooler. Still a very, very tough way to go, and when I get to southern California I would be near or in Death Valley, where I might be able to catch a ride. Unfortunately, there are massive forest fires in the exact spot where I would be travelling, and there is a good chance that I would not be able to make it through the area. And then there is the Indian situation. It is a sad and pathetic commentary on the state of those poor souls, who were once so noble and proud, but who now are apparently a bunch of drunken louts who mix up their mystique with alcohol, drive around like loaded guns, killing innocent people and animals, and who do not really want intruders on the land that they have been almost forced to live on by the government. A young lady of my acquaintance, who recently spent a year working as a nurse on the “rez”, as the reservation is colloquially known, has stated that my walking through there is a bad idea. There was concern about the drunks, for sure, and also something about an Navajo legend of the Skin Walkers, which is, according to Wikipedia, a type of shapeshifter that turns from human to animal, especially if you look then in the eye. I don’t understand how that concerns me, or is a danger to me, but the young lady in question lived there for a year and I trust her judgment. My friend Steve Ennenga also recently drove through there and told me that the number of crosses along the sides of the roads is unbelievable, each one representing a dead soul, human or animal. It is his opinion that it isn’t safe for me there, and would be the most dangerous place for me to go. I don’t have any other pure options, sadly, so I think I have come up with a solution that might work. And here it is: I will continue to walk westward on route 50, which dead ends in Grand Junction, Colorado, and becomes Interstate 70. From Grand Junction, I will continue westward through Utah, but on a bus or by some other conveyance, stopping where they stop, as in Salt Lake City, and will carry on this way through the deserts, until I reach California. There I will continue on my way to San Francisco, and once there will either stop, or will make a turn north towards Oregon, walking enough miles to make up for the bus rides through the desert. I know it is a compromise of sorts but I do not have a death wish, and while I do trust in the good nature of people, when alcohol and decades of bitterness are mixed in, it’s a volatile and dangerous mix. I really did want to try the reservation route but when “them that know say I better not go”, I don’t go. Hopefully my solution/compromise won’t be too much of a downer for people following me, but it is the most viable option I have, and frankly, after 500 miles of Kansas and eastern Colorado, and heat induced heart palpitations on several occasions, I have had enough hot weather. The added factor of no phone service through much of the area really puts a fine point on it for me. I’m sure some would take me to task a bit but, hey, it’s my walk. Ive come 1600 miles this far and have nothing to prove, and if I wanted to disappear like Everett Ruess, I would just walk away into the canyons and washes , and that would be that. But I don’t want to disappear. I want to finish this thing, write a book about it, move to Colorado ( I really can’t believe that I have never been here before—it seems like the one place I was meant to be) and live out the rest of my life among the sheep, elk and good friends.
So I hope this compromise works for those folks who are supporting me, encouraging me, and enjoying what I am able to send out there in words and images. I thank you all for everything. Truly.
As the song says, ”The road goes on forever…but the party never ends.”
Wait!!! There’s a party??????? Where’s my invite?