Tales of lonely trails

In Short

This collection of narratives chronicles various expeditions across the American West, ranging from the quest to locate the remote natural arch of Nonnezoshe to grueling mountain hunts for bear, lion, and deer. Rather than traditional travelogues, these pieces function as personal meditations on the interplay between man and nature. The writing endures because it eschews sentimentality for a raw, visceral honesty about the hardships of the trail and the internal conflicts that arise when one confronts the brutality of the hunt. It remains a definitive portrait of a landscape that demands resilience, respect, and a willingness to face one's own character.

The Story

The journey begins in the vast, arid reaches of the Painted Desert, where the search for the elusive, hidden natural bridge of Nonnezoshe tests the limits of endurance. Guided by local experts like John Wetherill, the party navigates treacherous quicksand and punishing heat, discovering that the West is not merely a backdrop for adventure but a formidable, living entity. The narrative shifts from these initial explorations into the high-altitude forests of Arizona, where the focus turns to the rhythm of the seasons and the cycle of the hunt.

As the seasons transition from the heat of late summer to the biting frosts of September, the focus settles on the camaraderie and the shared trials of men living in the wild. The author details the pursuit of mountain lions and bears, often accompanied by hounds and local trackers whose lives are defined by the terrain. These accounts are punctuated by moments of intense, sometimes violent, exertion—scenes where the line between the hunter and the hunted blurs. In one instance, a difficult, high-stakes lion hunt leads to a profound sense of exhaustion and existential dread, forcing a reckoning with the inherent cruelty of the chase.

The story moves through these experiences with a sense of cyclical return. Whether dealing with the logistical failures of a dishonest cook, the ravages of an influenza epidemic in the camps, or the thrill of tracking game through impenetrable thickets, the author consistently centers on the mental toll of the wilderness. The arc concludes with a shift toward the stark, ultimate desolation of Death Valley. Here, the narrative moves from active hunting to a contemplative stillness. The author reflects on the history of those who perished in the heat, viewing the desert not as a place of mere death, but as a space of profound, infinite silence that forces a man to confront his own soul. The final movement is one of resignation and deep appreciation for the solitude that only such merciless, empty places can provide.

How It Unfolds

The quest for discovery The author recounts the arduous, uncertain journey to find the remote Nonnezoshe natural bridge in Arizona. With guidance from local experts, the party navigates treacherous terrain, recognizing that some corners of the West are so complex they defy a second visit without expert help.

The shift to the hunt The narrative transitions to the high forests where tracking bear and mountain lion becomes the primary focus. The challenges of the landscape, including deep timber, sudden storms, and windfalls, create a constant sense of physical and mental pressure.

The conflict of the chase A series of intense encounters with game reveals the visceral reality of the hunt, including the loss of equipment and the exhaustion of both men and hounds. The author grapples with the morality of his pursuits, particularly after witnessing the death of a "game lion" and the subsequent, lingering distress it causes.

The necessity of retreat Logistical failures, such as the waste of supplies by an untrustworthy guide, force the party to adjust their plans and seek new ways to manage their expeditions. These interruptions highlight the vulnerability of the traveler to the human element, even in the most remote settings.

The final silence The concluding reflections on Death Valley strip away the artifice of the hunt to focus on the desert’s profound, dangerous emptiness. The author concludes that such places, while hostile to the casual visitor, offer a rare, infinite solitude that is essential for self-reflection.

The People

The author acts as the central consciousness of the book, a man who is constantly probing his own motivations for seeking the wild. He is introspective, often questioning why he pursues activities—like hunting—that he finds inherently cruel. His companions, such as the guide John Wetherill and the tracker Copple, provide the necessary expertise and historical context to survive the harsh environment. Wetherill serves as the essential bridge to the landscape, possessing the secret knowledge required to navigate the canyons, while Copple, a man of diverse experiences, represents the archetypal desert survivor whose life is a "mine of information."

The hounds—Old Dan and Tom—are figures of immense importance, serving as the heartbeat of the expeditions. Their devotion to the hunt and their resilience in the face of traps and steep terrain drive the narrative forward. Conflicts arise with minor figures like Isbel, the cook, who represents a breach of the "western way" by acting against the interests of his party. Finally, the author’s son, Romer, appears as a symbol of youth and the continuity of the hunting tradition, his excitement for the trail contrasting with the older, more weary perspective of his father. Each character is defined by their relationship to the land, moving from a position of mastery or curiosity to one of humbled endurance by the journey's end.

In Its Own Voice

The desert beyond Kayenta spread out impressively, bare red flats and plains of sage leading to the rugged vividly-colored and wind-sculptured sandstone heights typical of the Painted Desert of Arizona.

The author describes the initial, imposing landscape during the trek to find the natural bridge.

The dead silence of the canyon seemed to pay tribute to the lion's unquenchable spirit and to the freedom he had earned to the last.

After a difficult struggle in a narrow gorge, the author reflects on the dignity of a mountain lion that has met its end.

What It's Really About

The book is an exploration of the paradox of the modern man in nature. The author seeks the "truth" of the West—a quality defined by its violence, beauty, and absolute indifference to human presence. Underlying the plot is a persistent question regarding the psychology of the hunt: why does the civilized man feel a compulsion to kill, and how does the act of killing fundamentally alter his relationship with the living world? The narrative serves as an argument for the necessity of solitude, suggesting that the "world" of society is too noisy to allow for true self-examination. Ultimately, the book is a study in how the vast, empty spaces of the frontier function as a crucible, stripping away social pretenses and forcing the traveler to confront the raw, often uncomfortable realities of his own nature.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the descriptive, atmospheric prose of the early twentieth century will find much to admire here. The book is an immersive experience; the author possesses a rare ability to render the "violet-hazed ranges" and the "golden light on the peaks" with such clarity that the reader feels the sting of the cold and the exhaustion of the climb. Those who enjoy the intersection of travel writing and philosophical reflection will appreciate the way the author uses the harshness of the American Southwest to probe the human condition.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the period-specific attitudes embedded in the text. The author’s perspectives on hunting, his treatment of the wilderness as a commodity for his "satisfied ambition," and his occasional reliance on the tropes of his time regarding the people of the West are artifacts of a different era. The pace is deliberate, and the language, while precise and warm, reflects the formal, sometimes ornate style of his generation. Despite these challenges, the book rewards the patient reader with its unwavering commitment to the truth of the trail. It captures a version of the American West that is rapidly disappearing, leaving behind a haunting, enduring sense of place that stays with you long after the final page is turned.