February 23, 2004
Who Is Owen Lattimore?
Best travel writer of the twentieth century
At Wu-t'ung Wo-tze we had camped on bare soil cleared by another caravan, pitching our tent over the still-glowing coals of their fire. This caravan could be only a day ahead of us, and must, we knew, be the one which had started from San-t'ang Hu five days before us. Plenty of signs gave the reason of their slow progress; we were now rarely out of sight of camels cast either by them or the caravans just in advance of them. Many of these camels were still living, and by the way they were plated with frozen snow on one side it was plain to see that the earlier caravans had been impeded more by blizzards than by snowfall.
Even when a camel is too numbed and weak to stand, his incredible vitality may keep him living for five or six days, and that under the torture of successive blizzards. They do not get even the cruel mercy of death from the wolves, for, though a wolf will pull down a standing camel, he is daunted by the unnatural sight ofa living camel that lies still and waits. Hungry wolves will wait for days until the camel rolls over on his side in the spasm of death.
Some of the castaways we saw, however, had not so much as stretched out on their sides, but had died huddled with their legs under them and their necks turned back in a posture of agony, showing how they had tried to shield their heads from the wind, frozen as they lay. Those that still lived would turn their heads, their bodies being powerless, to watch our approach; then turn to the front to follow us with their gaze.
I could not shoot them; there was too much at stake, for if I had shot and the weather, say, had turned against us, it would have been attributed to the uneasy ghosts of camels dead by unfitting violence, and blamed on me, and there would have been panic. But I remember the sentry chain of death across the Black Gobi, and thought this worse.
In 1926, Owen Lattimore, and his wife Eleanor, began an unfathomably perilous trip through China, Mongolia, and Central Asia which would be the beginning of a career heralded as one of the twentieth century's most amazing scholar-adventurers, and ultimately, the world's preeminent Sinologist and Mongolist.
January 25, 2004
Yosemite Day 4
(10:00am) Got up at a bit before 7 again and for the second time was the first person to show up for breakfast. I don't know if nobody is eating it or what. The parking lot had just as many cars as when I got back last night from dinner (8:30pm), so I'm guessing the crowd is just late to rise. Surprising, I would have figured they'd all be up at first light to charge into the park. Shortly after I sat down another guy wandered in and started making chit-chat about Carey Stayner, the multiple murderer/handyman from the Cedar Lodge. I waited to see what would come of it, and sure enough, the guy working the kitchen not only new Stayner, but when he was a little kid Stayner had watched him!
After breakfast I drove into the park and stopped at Bridalveil Falls, which proved to be worth the short hike over ice and snow to get to a good viewing point. From there I continued up 41S towards Badger Pass. At the turnoff for Badger I saw a sign for "Yosemite West -- Private Development" in the usual national park white lettering on brown background. I took the turnoff to see what it was about. I'm not really sure what to make of it -- it is a collection of private vacation homes and condominiums. Since it is ostensibly part of the park, what is up with that? How could the park value selling off part of itself? Maybe they are only leased and the park service is the landlord?
