A View from the Farm

I moved to the Navajo Reservation located in northeastern Arizona in June 1983, sight unseen, and my first thoughts were about moving back to Iowa as soon as I had the money. The dust was blowing the day I arrived, and the windows in the trailer I would be living in did little to stop it. Many evenings I had to clean a layer of grit off my kitchen table before eating dinner.

Before coming to Arizona, I had never been camping. No Boy Scouts, no weekend family trips, almost no outdoor activities that I looked forward to. Outdoors was chores and fieldwork on the family farm. Working in the summer heat and humidity in Iowa, or the winter cold at the other extreme, can quash the "outdoor spirit" quite thoroughly. It simply wasn't fun. It was work, and we all knew it.

Just prior to leaving Iowa for Arizona, my supervisor, Steve, informed me to be sure to bring my sleeping bag because there was float trip on the San Juan River the weekend after I arrived, and I could go. I was 24-years-old, and I didn't own a sleeping bag. Had never even slept in one. I went out and bought a big heavy bag that was cheap. Steve didn't mention a sleeping pad or ground cloth. I didn't know I needed these, and didn't buy them.

It was a bit warm in my heavy polyester bag on that trip, and a bit hard to sleep on just the sand, but floating down the San Juan River from Sand Island to Mexican Hat was a really, really fun. For perhaps the first time in my life I was actually having fun being outdoors. Hiking, camping, and exploring with friends quickly became my favorite activity away from work.

I've stayed on the Navajo Rez for 26 of the last 28 years (still here), and have very much enjoyed this time and place. There is amazing geology and national-park quality scenery, and it seems there is always something new to photograph. Things are changing though. As certain areas of the reservation are "discovered" by photographers, the "secret" places become well known, and visitation increases significantly. The reservation is not public land, and the local population usually isn't pleased to have it treated as such. As much as I love my photography buddies, I know we're part of a tsunami of bodies and desire that can quickly overrun any place that looks promising for pictures.

This image is from an area that I visited and photographed several years back. There were earthen barriers blocking access the last time I went. Before they were put in place, however, I had a chance to visit again after developing this file for printing. It was in the spring after a winter of very heavy snow, and the colors and textures were all gone; completely washed out by all that melting precipitation percolating through the soft sediments. There was hardly any color left, and I felt lucky to have photographed it before it all leached away.

Of course, the reality was quite different. It just took me awhile to realize that, no, I was wrong. There was still some color here. It hadn't all melted away with the snow. It's what I had done to the colors in making the print that had changed my perception of the place. The original location just seemed very pale by comparison. I had altered things quite a bit in developing the RAW file, and ended up believing the picture was the real thing.

That's a bit hard to admit, but like the changing access to some of my favorite locations on the Rez, dealing with the truth is eventually necessary. Accepting it and moving forward is the only alternative. I still like this image. It reminds of the special places and special times I've had since moving to Arizona, even though it doesn't accurately depict what's really here. So no, it's not real. In fact, most of my pictures aren't. I can only offer that, for an Iowa farm boy, this maybe captures what it feels like to actually enjoy the outdoors.