A personal and historical exploration of the Bears Ears country and the fight to save a national monument.
The Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah, created by President Obama in 2016 and eviscerated by the Trump administration in 2017, contains more archaeological sites than any other region in the United States. It’s also a spectacularly beautiful landscape, a mosaic of sandstone canyons and bold mesas and buttes. This wilderness, now threatened by oil and gas drilling, unrestricted grazing, and invasion by Jeep and ATV, is at the center of the greatest environmental battle in America since the damming of the Colorado River to create Lake Powell in the 1950s.
In The Bears Ears, acclaimed adventure writer David Roberts takes readers on a tour of his favorite place on earth as he unfolds the rich and contradictory human history of the 1.35 million acres of the Bears Ears domain. Weaving personal memoir with archival research, Roberts sings the praises of the outback he’s explored for the last twenty-five years.
David Roberts is the award-winning author of twenty-nine books about mountaineering, exploration, and anthropology. His most recent publication, Alone on the Wall, was written with world-class rock climber Alex Honnold, whose historic feats were featured in the film Free Solo.
4.5 stars for Robert's penultimate book, published 6 months before his death in August 2021.
I have so enjoyed reading his books and this was no exception. His prose is straight-forward with descriptions of people and places that enables me to 'see' what and who he is talking about. I have a tourist's familiarity with the area, and he led me to places and showed me vistas and historical sites I would never be able to get to. The book has a touch of the memoir to it, as Roberts will occasionally mention his own travels and explorations in the area.
I did wish for maps in the body of the text. (I spent a lot of time on Goggle Maps to make up for that lack). The map at the beginning of the book was fine, but lacked detail. That's the only fault I found with an otherwise fabulous book.
“In recent years, some clever revisionists have turned what was long regarded as the glorious cavalcade of exploration and discovery on its head by arguing that the quest for the unknown is inseparable from the dismal Western tradition of imperialism and conquest. My initial reaction to these critiques was a hearty British “Balderdash!,” followed by the discomforting thought, Maybe there’s something to it after all.”
Yes, there is. What a book if he really reckoned with that idea.
This book needed a better editor so that this apparently venerated author could have created a more worthwhile book that may be his last, and is supposedly a love letter to an area in Utah that has captured the imagination of all and the hearts of so many. The arrogance and bias is really unnecessary; the old white man arguing against scholars and the indigenous people who have a astoundingly higher authority than him on using the term Anasazi, which is an outdated term, and derogatory to those peoples, and justifying it by saying he can’t ask the ancestral Puebloan people so he will call them what he damn wants to. And lengthy arguments about how long the Dine (Navajo) people have been on this land which he turns around in the end, contradicting himself.
Just a shame that he is allowed to have such a prominent voice. He almost comes to a redemption as he realizes that while his “conquering” mentality is an improvement on older explorers using dynamite to blast their way to where they wanted to go, but he still desecrates the land to get to the historic sites, and in the end watches and teaches others to do it.
That said, I have not explored this area much, but it is deeply sacred to many people, indigenous and other, and my love for other sites in Utah is alike. So I was thirsty for all the stories, and feel them all. And deeply respect the indigenous people and other groups who are fighting so hard for this land.
Each time I stare at an Anasazi rock art panel, I ponder this mystery again. And in those moments, as I try to see the world as the ancients might have, my own ego shrinks, or so it seems. It’s what they did that matters, and why—not whether I’m the first or the one-thousandth modern to find the cliff on which the Old Ones let their visions and their stories all hang out.
Newberry and Dimmock, on the other hand, were transported. The former claimed he was witness to “the wildest and most fantastic scenery on the globe. . . . Scattered over the plain were thousands of . . . fantastically formed buttes . . . pyramids, domes, towers, columns, spires, of every conceivable form and size.” Wrote Dimmock, “[L]ooking around there met our eyes such a view as is not to be seen elsewhere on earth.”
Rich though it is, Newspaper Rock has never captivated me. With all its vignettes crowded into a single slab of Wingate sandstone, the panel is just too busy for my liking. It is of course the height of dilettantism, or of cultural myopia, to apply a photo editor’s sneer to a panoply of signs and symbols graven by many different artists across a span of twenty centuries.
For the third time that day, I said, “God, this is a beautiful place.” And for the third time, Jimmy ignored my effusion…I realized that none of my preconceptions about this landscape matched Jimmy’s. His indifference to the canyon’s beauty might have disappointed me, but I sensed how much I had to learn from it. Jimmy saw the Tsegi not so much aesthetically as in moral and pragmatic terms. It was the quality of life that could be lived here that mattered, not the momentary wonder or inspiration of a brief journey through it.
In that unsettling moment, I wondered for the first time: was backpacking a mere upper-class Anglo luxury? Was the very passion for wilderness, as opposed to land to be lived with, a Romantic fixation?
Eurocentric notions of “truth” do not fit well with certain kinds of Native American tolerance of ambiguity.
Yet I never spend time in front of that dazzling exhibit without feeling a queasy mixture of pleasure and vexation. For almost all those ceramic objects were illegally looted over the decades from sites ranging beyond Utah into Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona. That they have been assembled and put on display is the outcome of sensitive negotiations: some are the spoils confiscated from outlaws such as Earl Shumway, some are “on loan” from anonymous Blanding citizens, and some lie in the gray areas in between.
“On Cedar Mesa,” he told me, “the Anasazi were really going their own way. These people were escaping the confines of normative thought.”
It's a love letter and an overview of the recently created (and de-created) national monument in southeastern Utah. But mostly it's a love letter. Roberts has visited the place a few dozens of times and gone on hundreds of hikes. He loves the complete out-of-nowhere-dness of it all, and most especially the hundreds or thousands examples of Anasazi finds that can be made there. The end of the book, where Roberts notes how his recent cancer problems prevent him from visiting as much of the canyon as he'd like, was rather moving.
The controversy over Obama making it a national monument only for Trump to reduce it in size by 85% is always part of the story, but Roberts adds lots of depth. The actual Bears Ears mountains themselves are part of the story, but it's mostly some surrounding land, the Cedar Mesa, where Roberts loves to hike. The fight over the Bears Ears has been going on a long time. The first Mormon settlers in the area had to endure a nightmarish six-month trek to get there, and their struggles reinforce a belief that this is their land, for them to use. The Navajo and other tribes, naturally, disagree, seeing it as their sacred lands. Environmentalists want to preserve it while mining and other industries want to use it. Plenty of locals went pothunting, and federal efforts to try and stop it were so heavy handed that it just further alienated locals from preservation efforts (especially since the arrests led to multiple suicides).
One factor I felt wasn't really resolved on what he thinks should be done with the land. He supports the national monument, but regrets that it'll limit people's ability to forage out there on their own. If it leads to all sorts of tourists coming for easy photo-ops, he also finds that horrifying. Ultimately, he'd like the area to be what he knew it as - a place so far off the grid that almost no one goes there, and thus those who do go there can completely enjoy it's beautiful isolation. Well, OK. I can understand that - but that also means he'd like the place to be used for his own personal interests, which isn't that different from what others want to do - it's just that he has a more niche interest.
Damnit! Why does David Roberts have to write books about topics that interest me?! I rage finished two of his other books. And I think I wrote in a review of one of them “please shoot me in the face if you see me reading any of his books.”
I love most of the books by David Roberts, but not this one. This book seems poorly put together and full of offensive observations. How many times does he start into a topic only to write: “More about that later.”? He crusty curmudgeon insistence on using Anasazi to describe ancient people is now annoying. “Hey you kids—get off my lawn!” And he also refers repeatedly to “abandonment” when depopulation is more apt. After all, he cites multiple periods of habitation (p. 260). Native people insist they didn’t abandon anything and they are still here.
Some of the history is good to know, like how Jacob’s Chair got named. But his refusal to refer to Bears Ears as “sacred” because he doesn’t believe in God (p. 234) is ethnic-centric and he even goes so far as to belittle Indigenous people who talk in this was as suffering from “spiritual gravitas, so disconnected from pragmatic specifics” (p. 232). At least Josh Ewing jumped up to rebut his diatribe (p. 234).
And then there is his obsession with Navajo origin stories. Why does he feel so compelled to brow beat Navajos about how long they have been on the landscape and where they came from? (P. 76). Why does he care? Why is this so important to him? He never says. Yet he can go on later and talk about how Bill Lipe, admittedly a great figure in SW archaeology, has been around “for…ever.” But time is apparently different for Roberts when talking about white people. Indians can’t lay claim to being here “forever.” Prove it with pragmatic specifics.
I felt that this book was rushed together to capitalize on the Bears Ears controversy and really need stronger editing. It seems slap dash and I was disappointed in much of it. Ralph Burillo’s new book on Bears Ears is a much better read, better researched, and better argued. Sorry David. Loved your previous books, but this one fell flat and I struggled to get through it.
It's incredibly frustrating to me that this author is one of the most prominent people to write about a corner of the world that means so much to me. Roberts' writing style is grating and his arrogance is abundant. Refusing to acknowledge both scholarly consensus and the wishes of indigenous people over the use of the name "Anasazi" is a perfect encapsulation of what ruins what should be an excellent history of an oft-overlooked area. And yet I've read two of his books. This is a testament to the power and beauty of southeast Utah and the hold it has over me.
Wonderful history of the bears ears area in utah and the author's extensive adventures in this magical area. My dad and I first started exploring this area in the early 1990s ...some of my fondest memories are of this area...I've wanted to retire to this area to continue my explorations...thank you mr. Robert's for this jewel...
There is a strange, hypocritical undercurrent throughout the book regarding Roberts's own relationship to Native history. Despite trying his hardest to be as politically incorrect as possible, Roberts expresses support for retaining the Bears Ears' national monument status in order to best protect the land and its historical sites from oil interests, miners, pot hunters, and all other ATV-riding ne'er-do-wells. Yet, he credits himself as the first modern person to "discover" several archaeological sites, petroglyphs, and other remnants of Ancestral Puebloan history, and describes the pursuit of discovery as a race and something he hungers for -- as if other peoples' history was laid out for David's entertainment. He makes a feeble attempt to reckon with this moral incongruency in the epilogue, but it falls flat.
Further, he refuses to use the academically accepted term Ancestral Puebloan in favor of the dated, rejected term Anasazi. He includes one footnote where he insists on using this term because he doesn't want to "sanitize the history", and claims to have expanded on this argument in his other books (he didn't say which), so didn't put a drop of effort in explaining his vastly unpopular terminology here.
I don't even care to be the woke police, but these flaws massively detract from Roberts's ethos and resultant messaging I think his book attempts to convey. I'm excited to read other material about Bears Ears so I can recommend them over this one.
As a Utah resident, I have loved my time in many of southern Utah's amazing national parks and monuments, but I had never even heard of Cedar Mesa. I had, of course, heard much about the controversial Bears Ears national monument established by President Obama, then greatly diminished by President Trump. Essentially the Obama monument encompasses most of Cedar Mesa, a 400 square mile mesa in southeastern Utah, sitting at 6,500 feet above a 4,200 ft surrounding country. This height disparity results in a plethora of amazing canyons filled with the dwellings and petroglyphs of ancient Puebloans (Anasazis) whose protection figures largely in the creation of the Bears Ears N.M., and much of the consternation of Trump's 85% reduction of the original monument. Roberts, the author, claims Cedar Mesa is his favorite place in the world to hike, backpack, and explore. Though he lives on the east coast, he has explored these canyons for decades. This loving book is exactly as advertised, "a human history" of the mesa. His enthusiasm for the mesa is infectious; I want so badly to go there now! 3.5 stars Note: As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I must point out that Robert's characterization of the "Mormon" doctrine of the station of Native Americans in God's plan of salvation is grossly misrepresented. From the very beginning, the Church had reached out to attempt to invite Native Americans into the fulness of God's blessings, both in mortality and in the world to come, as fully embraced members of Christ's church.
I’ve read several of Roberts’ books and enjoyed his mix of personal exploration and historical research. This one is special. It’s a homage to his favorite place. Being a non-believer he would be loathe to label it a sacred place but it is.
One can’t help but wonder if it’s his last book. I hope not. I’ve been following him on FB for the past two years and knew of his health issues with cancer. What I did not know was that it wasn’t recent. He’s been at war with it since 2015. During that time he’s still found the energy to write three books.
A good look at the history and cultural forces shaping the debate on The Bears Ears. We meet many characters that personify the myth of the West. Glad I bought it. I drove through Bluff, Utah in 2007 on my way to visit Mesa Verde. I need to return now. Thanks David Roberts for planting the seed.
This is essentially a love letter to the Bears Ears region of southeastern Utah. I finally visited a small patch of that area last year and it was breathtaking. . This book recounts the history of the indigenous people of Utah, the history or Utah settlement, and the fight over the protection of the area. . I'm a member of the predominant church in Utah and it was interesting and enlightening to hear the history of Utah settlement by the pioneers, devoid of the mythology that is often presented in our church culture. . Petroglyphs are some of my favorite things to see, so I wish I had access to a hard copy of this book to see if any pictures are included. I listened to the audiobook from the library.
I have loved anything with the Anasazi and their amazing cliff dwellings since I visited Mesa Verde as a teen. I would have loved more about their history in this book rather than more of the recent stories. I wish the pictures were in color to give a real sense of how amazing this area is! The book left me searching online for images of the places he spoke of, especially the Moki Dugway, one road I know I'll never travel. I hope now that Biden is in office this place will be protected in its entirety.
A fascinating story of what is called The Bears Ears in Utah and it's surroundings. His experiences in the wilderness which David Roberts calls the magical landscape. A Historical Treasure. Thankyou Goodreads for this free book.
I found this very dull. Lots of stories seemingly without a point, and lots of pointers to Roberts's previous stories about Bears Ears. Are the good stories all in his earlier books? Some of the details are fascinating, but they are lost in the hay.
> in 2003 and 2004, the team collected some two thousand potsherds from the surface of the site. Back in the lab, they washed and analyzed the sherds, then, instead of the traditional practice of storing the pieces of broken pots in the drawers of some archive against future study, Liebmann’s team returned every single sherd to the exact spot on the ground from which it had been “borrowed.”
> Congress should designate Cedar Mesa a National Conservation Area, which would provide enhanced protections to the area’s natural and cultural treasures, but without the fanfare and throngs of visitors that often accompany the creation of new monuments or parks.” The problem in 2015 was that only Congress, not the president, could create such an area.
Really enjoyed the practical experience the author brought to the subject. It was a good blend of old west and modern history to contextualize even more ancient history. It gives a good perspective on the issues that face preserving historical sites and why it is important. It does all that while cultivating that sense of childlike wonder that comes from hiking through the woods and exploring around the next corner. Thoughtful and informative.
I have enjoyed David Roberts' prose throughout the years, starting with his early climbing writing (Mountain of My Fear and Moments of Doubt) in the late 1980s. I do love the way he can turn a phrase. The Bears Ears is a "human history of America's most endangered wilderness". The Bears Ears buttes were central to the 2016 national monument designated by President Obama and devastated by its 85% reduction by Trump. It is a topical history rather than chronological covering the Ancestral Puebloan and later native cultures, the mostly confrontational interaction of the whites and the Natives, the Mormon pioneers, the Blanding pothunters, the uranium prospectors, the re-making of Bluff as the "most non-Mormon town in Utah", and cowboys. As he freely admits, this type of topical history was done in the vein of Stegner's Mormon Country. Interspersed into these historical narratives are the stories of Roberts' own explorations of the Bear Ears country - finding and exploring ruins and ancient sites (respectfully and never revealing exact locations). He regrets that his earlier book on the Anasazi (In Search of the Old Ones) was used as a "treasure map" by some readers. He addresses the controversy of the national monument designation, even among "enviros" who would have rather seen it as a "conservation area" rather than a national monument (a conservation area, however, would have required the approval of a Republican-controlled Congress). Most poignant was the telling of the ravages of this cancer on Roberts' adventuring and how it has limited his mobility, but not his love and enjoyment of the Bears Ears wilderness. For those that love the nature and history of Utah, I would highly recommend this book. I enjoyed it and it makes me want to visit Bears Ears as much as I can...but not Blanding.
Bear’s ears is a love letter to the canyon country of Southeast Utah with mostly survey level history and a smattering of personal anecdotes and stories.
I had no clue Roberts was so intricately connected to the people and landscapes around Bears Ears and it shows. As a history teacher and western novice this book was chock full of things I gleefully had to stop reading and look up to help paint a more complete picture of the region. That being said, the book pitches itself as having some sort of say in the Bears Ears debate but this feels like a game of hot potato where he engaged with a piece of the puzzle briefly and quickly moved on without offering any real takeaways. Playing diplomat? Perhaps. He throws his hat in the ring of debate without throwing any real punches.
Nevertheless, Read this for history of the region. This humble midwestern transplant had no idea what level of messy history Utah has regarding Mormons and Indigenous peoples. At the end of the book Roberts offered someone’s estimate that there could be around 100,000 prehistoric sites in Bears Ears alone?? That’s incomprehensible especially to someone from the temperate woodlands back east. That such a landscape exists so flush with connections to the past even factoring in all the looting begs one to walk away with support for the Bears Ears monument. Roberts briefly touches on the Catch-22 that more attention and protection brings to such a delicate and isolated region.
Access to the outdoors and the nature that takes on characterizes much in western states, and Roberts has created a great book to give a more complete picture of what you should know before jumping into a conversation about what to do with the Bears Ears region.
With a cast of thousands (of both people and place names), this tome rambles through a variety of stories and eras of the Bears Ears. I could see myself giving this two stars, but I usually reserve that for books that border on truly bad. This isn't one of those--it's just a book in need of a good editor who wants about half as many words as the author. I listened on an audiobook and eventually trudged to the finish after speeding it up to 120% and committing to it on a lengthy car ride. I was not a fan of the narrator (Danny Campbell), who made a handful of pronunciation errors. I suspect the author was someone who would start an evening with a map of Utah and a warning of "let me tell you a story", and you'd still be listening to that same story a couple of hours later. This book is like a week of those evenings, and good luck trying to keep everybody straight after the second night. After this book, I am trying to decide if I understand more about Bears Ears than I did before. I guess I probably do, but the fact that I'm even asking the question should tell you something. I'm somewhat familiar with the desert southwest--I've been down the other end of the Hole in the Rock Road, for example, and to Natural Bridges, to Lake Powell, to Monument Valley, to Canyon de Chelly, and parts of Canyonlands. In short, near and through Bears Ears, but never really coming to understand and appreciate it. This book presents several hours of stories about the many people who've had an impact on this land. But in a lot of ways, the Bears Ears remains a mystery to me. Arguably, this is exactly the impression I should come away with--it is an infinitely unknowable land full of legends and mysteries.
As a Durango resident for several years I occasionally get out to see area rock art and Ancestral Puebloan sites. In fact, my wife and I are site stewards for two structures in Canyons of the Ancients National Monument. Despite the joy of seeing new sites I continually wrestle with the need to feed my personal curiosity and joy with the realization that exploring places like Bears Ears is not a treasure hunt. We need to limit incursions for most of these sites to survive. There are plenty of sites that are protected and accessible, such as at Canyons of the Ancients. David Roberts provides me with the vicarious solution to this dilemma by documenting his experiences with these remote sites. His thrill is mine and that is the mark of a good memoirist. And maybe one solution for those of us who don't need to notch one more panel or ruin. Thanks, David.
If you are at all intrigued by Southwest archaeology or conservation, this is a fascinating book. Roberts takes us on a history tour of human interactions - especially in the past 150 years - with the landscape of southeastern Utah and surrounding areas. Pot hunters, mineral extractors and tourists have all combined to obfuscate much of the history of the area, most recently when the Trump Administration reduced the size of Bear's Ears by more than half at the behest of ranchers and oil interests. Roberts tells of misguided attempts to amass collections of Indian artifacts, how Antiquities Laws were enacted to prevent wholesale destruction/removal of historic objects from the area, the saga of early pot hunters with no training, and much more. Roberts is an engaging writer. Highly recommended.
After taking my first trip a few years ago to what would eventually become Bears Ears National Monument, I have been fascinated by this stunning part of the West. Author David Roberts does a great job of covering the history, politics, and geography of this amazing landscape that was inhabited by the Anasazi hundreds of years ago.
Roberts is very knowledgeable about the area, having taken dozens of trips there during his lifetime, and he writes with both candor and reverence about a place that, regardless of politics, deserves protection from insensitive and damaging human beings who trample and desecrate sacred sites with impunity.
I'll never get to hike this wilderness nearly as much as Roberts has, but his book let me experience much of it vicariously and reignited my desire to keep exploring it as long as I'm able.
This is a history of exploration and settlement, mostly in Utah, of ancient landscapes, dwellings and artifacts. I recommend it to anyone planning to visit this region. However, I did not find it as interesting as the only other Roberts book I have read, The Lost World of the Old Ones., which had an adventure travel feel to it and was fun to read. In this book, Roberts expresses some regret over having written The Lost World since it inspired many other adventurers to try to find the places he described. Humans, of course, are the biggest threat to preservation of Bears Ears and other beautiful natural and/or historically significant areas. Creating parks and monuments can keep them from being bulldozed. However, the designations do bring more visitors and with that the need to restrict access to some of the most beautiful and fragile areas.
This answered my questions about this National Monument and gave me so much more. I had no idea this area was so filled with history. So many famous people and names that should be famous crop up. I was excited to learn that the amazing place the lovers ran to in Riders of the Purple Sage actually exists. It sparked my imagination as a then 12 year old reader.
The author is a hiker and believer that artifacts should remain in place. However he also listens and tries to understand those who believe differently. He also relates the Mormons' cultural view and also points out the indigenous side of things. His awe of the beautiful terrain shines through. I wish I had visited when I was so close by.
The stories were the kind that are so amazing you want to share them.
The book is part history and part memoir. The author shared many interesting stories about the area and the characters, ones who lived in and respected it, others who tried to conquer it, and some who tried and are trying to save it. The organization of the material was challenging as it took the reader back and forth in time. This author has written many books about his own mountain climbing and adventures; the memoir part felt like the continuation of a conversation started a few books ago. He was facing multiple bouts of cancer toward the end, and sadly passed away in 2021, shortly after publishing this book. His very last book will g be e published in 2022.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Well written, but... problematic in ways I didn't anticipate. Absolutely bizarre that the author insisted on using Anasazi, even though he recognizes that the indigenous Americans who the term refers to despise its usage and have strained to encourage the use of "Ancestral Pueblo” or “Ancestral Puebloan.” Roberts doesn't seem to cotton to that, which... yeah weird. There's an uncomfortable thread of white savior-ism and conqueror mentality. I dunno - its a love letter to a beautiful place that needs to be saved. But it seems like it's perhaps still stuck with one foot in an older, Euro-centric vision.
As a resident of Utah for the majority of my life I thought this book would give me a better understanding of the Bears Ears and why it's such a politically contested area. The book really focused more on the beginnings of southern Utah, the towns established and the history there in. So not exactly what I was looking for but interesting none the less. I know more about Blanding and Bluff, Utah then I ever could want to so there's that. I liked reading about Cedar Mesa and the Anasazi culture since I knew very little.
Loved this book! David is an expert at combining the history of the area with anecdotal stories and his personal experiences. He isn't afraid to share his personal opinions and I applaud him for that. It was enlightening to learn so much about the Bears Ears area and better understand the ancestral value of this land. The Southwest has so much history and cultural significance that many Americans are oblivious to; we needed an author with David's passion, diligence, experience, and insight.
He was truly a master of the Southwest and is missed.