Writer and former wilderness guide Michael Engelhard explored remote corners of the Grand Canyon and Colorado Plateau by boat and by foot for more than 20 years. He spoke with KNAU’s Melissa Sevigny about his new book, No Walk in the Park, which argues for the profound value of wild places for the human spirit.
So one that that struck me about this collection of essays is that there’s fair amount of misery that you describe, like dehydration, dislocated shoulders, being out in very remote places and being fairly miserable. I’m curious, what drives you to go explore these hard-to-reach places?
For one thing, it is the misery. It is a good place to test yourself, your stamina, physically, and then also emotionally, mentally. But you suffer more the older you get, and I’m getting to the point where that’s why I stopped guiding basically. I decided that I’ll use the few years I have left for private explorations instead of working myself to the bone. But it’s the price admission, I call it sometimes. The misery is far outdone by the magic and the beauty and the curiosity, too. What draws me back is, I want to know one place or a few places in my life really, really well. A lot of people travel all over the world, tourism here, tourism there. I was like that a little bit as a younger man. Now I want to climb the same mountain a thousand times, not climb a thousand different mountains. And so this coming back and seeing the same place at different seasons, under different weather conditions, even with different people, it’s always something new, it’s always a different place, in a way.
Yeah, let’s talk about some of that magic. Because alongside the misery there’s a great deal of awe and wonder woven into your stories. Maybe describe, what’s the most memorable place, or maybe the most memorable moment you’ve had in these explorations?
Oh, that’s a hard thing. One of the memorable events was during a night hike. My wife and I did a night hike down the Bright Angel Trail…. We did that because it was too hot during the day to hike, that was one reason, and the other reason, I just wanted to do something unusual and see how it affects my sensory perception, because you use a whole different set of senses, and use them differently, at night, of course. Anyway, we’re approaching Indian Garden down there or Havasupai Gardens as it’s now been renamed, and I was lagging behind my wife, and I came upon her when she was stopped in the trail, she was almost shaking with excitement, not necessarily fear, just the thrill of the encounter, and she said, “I just saw a mountain lion.” … We sat down, she told me the encounter… and it was kind of actually really creepy, but it made you really feel alive. That’s what it’s all about when you’re out there, that’s part of the magic. And the misery: it makes you really feel alive. When you’re thirsting for water, and there’s no water for miles around, it’s misery, but yes, it makes you live more intensely.
You wrote about the Grand Canyon, you said, “The canyon and the river that carved it have a way of consuming—or centering—lives.” Which was it for you?
Both, I would say. It’s one of the really few places that I keep coming back, and you can spend a lifetime there and not see a fraction of it….. It’s addictive, definitely. Unless the vagaries of time or accidents stop you, you’ll do that as long as you can.
What do you hope that this book will go out and do in the world? Is this a chronicle of the way things were, or is this a way to inspire people to care more about these places?
What I’d like to achieve with it, is to make people aware of the places that they’re in, and ask them to tread lightly, because this is a very storied pavement that they’re treading on.
Michael Engelhard, thank you so much for speaking with me.
Thank you for having me.
