Escalante's Dream: On the Trail of the Spanish Discovery of the Southwest

by David Roberts, Robert Fass (Reading)

Famed adventure writer David Roberts retraces the route of the legendary Dom�nguez-Escalante expedition. In July 1776 a pair of Franciscan friars, Francisco Atanasio Dom�nguez and Silvestre V�lez de Escalante, were charged by the governor of New Mexico with discovering a route across the unknown Southwest to the new Spanish colony in California. They had other goals as well, some of them secret: converting the indigenous natives along the way to the true faith, discovering a semi-mythical paradise known as Teguay�, hunting for sources of gold and silver, and paving the way for Spanish settlements from Santa Fe to Monterey. In strict terms, the expedition failed. Running out of food and beset by an early winter, the twelve-man team gave up in what is now western Utah. The retreat to Santa Fe became an ordeal of survival. The men were reduced to eating their own horses while they searched for a crossing of the raging Colorado River in Glen Canyon. Seven months after setting out, Dom�nguez and Escalante staggered back to Santa Fe. Yet in the course of their 1,700-mile voyage, the explorers discovered more land unknown to Europeans than Lewis and Clark would encounter a quarter-century later.

Genres: History, Travel, Nonfiction, Westerns, American History, Adventure, Biography

1 pages, Audio CD

Published March 1, 2021

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name.
See this thread for more information.

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.

Reviews

[Lorna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Escalante's Dream: On the Trail of the Spanish Discovery of the Southwest is a riveting look at the legendary expedition of Franciscan friars, Francisco Atanasio Dominguez and Silvestre Velez de Escalante, in July 1776. In 2017, the author David Roberts and his wife attempted to retrace the steps of the Franciscan priests' journey, as they had been charged by the governor of New Mexico to discover a route previously not explored in the unknown and rugged Southwest to Monterrey, California. Armed with Escalante's journal, Roberts attempted, not only to recreate the world as the explorers had seen it two-hundred forty-one years ago, but to include the hardships and the many unforeseen dangers in this previously unexplored territory. Ultimately the Dominguez-Escalante expedition had to turn back towards Santa Fe, well short of their goals. The parallel adventures are chronicled by David Roberts as he relates his own journey in comparison with the priests' journey. Being from the southwest, I loved all of the history, as well as the geography and beautiful scenery that was explored. This is stunningly beautiful country that leaves one in awe. One can only imagine what it must have been like for Dominguez and Escalante in 1776.

"Just off Highway 84, a cluster of Hispanic towns flourishes today. Aficionados of New Mexico's Spanish heritage have created a must-see drive along State Highway 76 though the old villages northeast of Santa Fe: Chimayo, Cordova, Truchas, Trampas, Penasco."

"A pair of statues of the Virgin Mary, one gazing up in beseechment, the other, hands clasped in prayer, staring at infinity in the west, composed a vignette of both hope and sorrow. Fresh flowers had been inserted in every cranny in the bedrock, and small figurines of the Virgin had been balanced on every available ledge, from which hung rosary beads. . . The cliff dripped with nature's tears."

". . . . the Spaniards reached the Dolores River. . The Padres knew the name of the river from Riviera's expedition. . . Their predecessor must have been in a gloomy mood as he traversed this lovely corner of Colorado, for the full name he gave the stream is Rio de Nuestra Senora de Los Dolores, or River of Our Lady of Sorrows, and the full name of the Animas is Rio de las Animas, or River of Lost Souls."

"If the name Escalante rings any bell in the brain of the casual traveler today, it is the one that peaks in Grand Staircase--Escalante National Monument, the vast federal reserve of canyons, mesas, and streams decreed by President Bill Clinton in 1996--2,937 square miles of backcountry that ought to gladden the heart of the most jaded outdoor aficionado."

[Greatlakesgreenhorn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well, I was a little disappointed by this book. My first David Roberts book, and while it would appear on reading about him that he is a popular author I would have to dig deeper into his catalogue to understand why, and after reading this volume I'm not sure that I want to.

Escalante's Dream finds Roberts in the waning years of his life, sick with cancer, "following" the trail blazed by Fathers Dominguez and Escalante through the Southwest in the 18th century. He is accompanied with his wife and his thoughts.

While other reviews found this to be a well blended travelogue and history I found it quite the opposite. Robert's was trying to write two different books here, and it is apparent to the point that the whole of the narrative loses its cohesiveness. His personal reflections on his life and the D&E expedition are rather unenlightening, where as his coverage of the actual historical expedition is pretty shallow. I'm sure the later pertains to the fact that Escalante's journal was rather bland and uninformative, but in light of that Robert's finds no way to breathe new life into the narrative.

I was annoyed time and time again at how Roberts looks down on and harangues people he meets along the way for not knowing a very forgotten piece of Pre-US history in a little travelled corner of the country. He touts his superior intelligence for knowing the history of the expedition like a cross that is too heavy to bear. David, chill.

All in all the book has some redeeming qualities. There is some great information on some of the tribes and nations of the Southwest. Some fascinating reading about some archaeological sites. Overall, though, I had to slog my way through to the end and found myself wondering if I was reading a dying man's memoirs, or a history on the D&E expedition. I was hoping for the later, but ended up with a jerky intermingling of the two. If you're looking for a history on Dominguez and Escalante you may be better served to look at some of his source materials first.

[Barb in Maryland · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars. Excellent blend of travelogue and history from a gifted writer. I loved it.

One quibble: I have some familiarity with the area, courtesy of various vacations. I will confess that I wanted many more maps in the book. (Google Maps was my reading buddy for this one). The author was very clear in relating where the Dominguez-Escalante group was during the various stages of their trek. He was also clear about where he was as he followed along by car. I needed the maps to help me visualize the big picture. (Well, that and the fact I'm a map nerd).

[Grady · Rating 4 out of 5]

The historical details of the 1776 odyssey of two young Franciscan friars through the desert southwest are interesting - they made a great loop around what is now the Four Corners - but what really makes this book work are the author’s meditations on time, transience, and human limits, all in the shadow of his own experience of terminal cancer. Roberts and his wife Sharon try to follow the route that the priests took with their small company, but not only are many roads and trails blocked on private property, or beyond Roberts’ physical capacity to walk; for much of the route, the details have simply been lost, and are impossible to recreate from the diary of the expedition kept by Escalante, one of the two priests. Without having spent any time in the specific places the Roberts visited on this trip, I doubt I’ll be able to retain much about the locations and tribes, but I will retain the combination of Roberts’ love of this landscape, and his poignant sense that our lives, our perspectives, and our confusions are all fleeting, and will someday be impossible for anyone to reconstruct, and that all we have left is to make a meaningful present.

[John Mason · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another great book by David Roberts. For this one, I enjoyed tracking his progress on Google Earths and was struck by the barrenness of the landscape that D&E traveled through. Very sobering to read of Mr. Roberts diagnosis. All the best to him and his.

[Zachary Elliott · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m disappointed.

I picked up this book wanting subject matter on the expedition of Escalante and Dominguez, instead I got a condescending old man degrading everyone he came in contact with.

—

‘Marked safe from reading Escalante’s Dream’

[Crystal · Rating 2 out of 5]

Expected it to be better. The lack of real documentation of the expedition leaves too much room for speculation. I don't care when and where David Roberts stopped to eat his fancy cheese either

[Brianna · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is the author's lifetime of seemingly boundless mountaineering and substantial southwestern studies that makes a telling of two stories - that of Dominguez and Escalante's 1776 expedition and the author and his wife's trekking of the same by RAV4, hundreds of years later - marvelous and educational, all the same. Some passages are clearly demarcated by the author's disdain for the Franciscan mission and frustrations born out his illness. However, this book provides a clear narrative of Spanish exploration, a thoughtful accounting of some southwestern Native American history, and has left me with a desire to seek out and read more adventure-based literature. I recommend this book to anyone even slightly interested!

[Steven · Rating 4 out of 5]

Roberts, an avid climber, hiker and historian, and his wife retrace by car the route of the Dominguez-Escalante expedition that headed out from Santa Fe to explore the American desert southwest in 1776. Roberts knows his topic well, and uses both a bicentennial report from 1976 and Ecalante's journals as guides across the route.

Recent cancer treatments have left Roberts unable to do as much of the on-the-ground hiking of the actual route than he would like to, but it seems they are able to follow much of it by car. Indeed, I was struck by how many of these places I'd been to and how far apart they were. I was amazed that Dominguez and Escalante were able to cover this area (up to Colorado, over to northern Utah, down to the Grand Canyon and back to Santa Fe) by horseback in just four months. Along the way, Roberts stops to find out from the locals what they know about the expedition. It almost becomes a joke to ask about them at local tourist centers, parks and museums and just get blank stares. It's also interesting to see the stories that have grown up around their visit through the area -- stories that can't possibly be true.

Roberts is in turns admiring and critical of the expedition, especially it's chronicler, Silvestre Vélez de Escalante. Although, as a Franciscan friar he desperately want to convert the natives they meet in the journey, he's fully willing to admit that he appears incapable of doing so and never resorts to the levels of violence that often accompanied such efforts. They didn't end up killing anyone they met, and all of the members of the expedition made it home alive.

Throughout the book, Roberts' love of history and the people and landscapes of the southwest comes shining through, despite the discomfort he feels. To me, it almost felt like a goodbye visit. I hope it's not.

[Swante · Rating 4 out of 5]

I mean, who hasn’t had a bad experience at the Ruby River steak house in Provo?

I enjoyed the book for its scenery and the overall history of the American southwest in 1776. The present day experiences the author begrudgingly endures make him out to be a miserable and rude person; understandably so with his state of cancer. Regardless of his diagnosis, he, much like the Franciscan priests, talks down to locals. Each person he meets and asks questions about the area and their knowledge of D&E leaves him disappointed. At times it’s as if he has the answer and when the local gas station attendant can’t measure up to a Harvard educated professor he droops his head utter defeat.

Lydia would find this book boring.

[George · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very engaging read about a fascination exploration. Roberts is a skilled and insightful writer. I found the mystifications he felt about Franciscan theology tiring after a while and it was evident to me he wasn’t as skilled at understanding the internal logic of foreign cultures as he wanted Dominguez and Escalante to be. This was especially obvious when he missed the boat on Mormons. But his humanity and personality were endearing, and I found the ending very moving. I consider this a very worthwhile read.

[Albert Norton · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was really looking forward to reading this book. It was talked up in a big way in the literary press and it's about a Spanish mission to Pueblo Indians in 1776 in the four corners area of the Southwest, a subject I am very interested in.

It should have been great, but it's not. Almost every sentence is awkward and full of fluff words, in addition to containing pervasive logic problems. The surplusage of verbs, often in the wrong tense, and modifiers modifying nothing, and dangling observations apropos of nothing and passive voice and comically circuitous locutions all inflate the word content but deflate all the life out of the prose. All this while somehow simultaneously leaving out crucial information necessary to make sense of the narrative without stopping to figuratively scratch one's head after almost every sentence.

This isn’t the most egregious example, but here's what I read at the start of chapter 3 on page 57, when I realized I just couldn't continue, as much as I cared about the subject:

"It was midmorning on September 4 when we drove into Dulce, the headquarters of the Jicarilla Apache Nation. On Labor Day all of the government offices were closed, but the Wild Horse Casino was open, its parking lot mostly full."

He jumps from September 4 to Labor Day. Is this supposed to be the same day, or not? If it is, why two incommensurable ways of identifying it? If it’s not, what’s the connection between these two sentences? While you’re on frustrated hold trying to make sense of that, it might occur to you that September 4 is fewer than 7 days into September, and Labor Day is the first Monday in September, so perhaps September 4 was Labor Day in whatever year he's talking about. Are we supposed to stop and go research it from an outside source, in order to make sense of the writing?

If September 4 was in fact Labor Day that year, it makes sense that government offices were closed when they drove into Dulce. Why mention the obvious? He never tells us he has government business in Dulce, and if he did, why would he expect the offices to be open? And why contrast casinos? He never develops that, either. He orphans those half-thoughts and continues:

"The day before, as we passed through Canjilon, Tierra Amarilla, and Los Ojos, the only houses of worship we had seen were Catholic ones, as was the wayside shrine in Los Ojos whose statues of the Virgin were bedecked with flowers and rosary beads."

Hoo boy. “The day before?” That would be Sunday, if you bothered to work this out, but you have no reason to do so until you become frustrated at the random observation concerning houses of worship, and want to try to figure out why he mentions this and why it's pertinent to "the day before." You might not care, though, if like me you've realized it's not you, it's the author. But if you haven't given up yet you might try to solve yet another unintentional puzzle. Houses of worship are relevant to Sunday, in this part of the world, but – follow me closely, here – houses of worship are visible on days other than Sunday.

And it’s “we saw,” not “we had seen.” Moving on, how can a "wayside shrine" be a Catholic house of worship? A building can enshrine something, but it can also be a brothel. A shrine can be located in a building, including a house of worship, but it can also be outside. Indeed, the modifier "wayside" suggests that’s exactly what he’s talking about here, as opposed to a house of worship. And you wouldn't use the possessive "whose" to refer to an inanimate thing like a shrine.

The author goes on to mention there are some other denominations represented in Dulce, but why the mention? No telling. Another fact untethered to a thought, as if this were the most boring game of I Spy imaginable. In the next paragraph, he for some as yet undisclosed reason singles out the Mormon church in Dulce, and then writes:

"All over the West, Indian reservations embrace well-attended churches dedicated to the Mormon version of Christianity. Their presence always bemuses me . . . ."

When I got to this, I left off reading the book for content, and continued only for the amusement (the author would wrongly say "bemusement") of counting the number of howlers per line. First of all, the context is his observation of houses of worship on Indian reservations, but the author has not disclosed that we're actually on an Indian reservation. We're in Dulce, which he said was the "headquarters" of the Jicarilla Apache Nation. Indians (of all people) don't call things "headquarters," but in any event this doesn't necessarily mean Dulce is on the reservation.

What does it mean that Indian reservations "embrace" Mormon churches? If by "reservations" he means the people on reservations – which is not correct but fair enough, I guess, as a colloquial usage -- then what he means is that reservation Indians like Mormon churches. But this could as easily mean reservation Indians like off-reservation Mormon churches, or even Mormon churches "well-attended" by non-Indians.

Maybe, though, we can link the discussion of Mormon churches to on-reservation churches in general by imputing an archaic meaning to the word "embrace." It could mean to enclose or to encircle. His "Indian reservation" would then be a reference not to the Indians on the reservation, but rather to the land itself. But that would mean he's told us nothing about whether Indians are partial to Mormonism, only that some reservations (not necessarily the Jicarilla Apache Nation reservation) have Mormon churches. These are all hints of suggestions of whiffs of potential topics left dangling.

My favorite is this phrase: "Mormon version of Christianity." I'm not interested in debating theology, but this is a pretty tone-deaf remark given the substantial disagreement over whether Mormonism is Christian.

I'm picking on a few sentences for purposes of illustration, but this kind of thing is pervasive, at least up to about page 58, the point at which I closed the book forever so I could hustle it off to Goodwill and get it out of my house.

[Linda · Rating 1 out of 5]

I bought this book because I was interested in the subject matter--very little is written about Escalante's exploration of the Southwest. There is a definite anti-Christian slant to this book--and that is fine--the author is entitled to his opinion as to the intentions of Catholic priests in the 1700s. What is more annoying is the author's condescendence to modern day "locals": "I didn't have the heart to tell" (the local) that he/she was wrong about (usually the founding of a mission). I wanted to read this to learn about Escalante's journey from Santa Fe westward. This book is more bout the author than Escalante. I really did care that the author and his partner had a picnic lunch of Brie and celery sticks on their way to Chama. Please--could we leave out some of the elitism? (Besides, everyone knows that the proper lunch in New Mexico is green chili cheeseburgers). I have two regrets about this book--that I bought it and that I wasted my time reading it. Don't waste yours.

[Jason Wright · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author acknowledges himself as knowledgeable about the southwest and the Dominguez and Escalante expedition. He gives the reader an account as one would expect from someone who grew up in Boulder Colorado and currently lives in Boston Massachusetts. The book is full of haughty, demeaning references to anything Spanish, Caucasian, or Catholic. I truly feel sorry for the author. He acknowledges he struggles with his agnostic worldview and is left with cultural relativism as the only means to evaluate cultures and individuals actions.

[Neal Duncan · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book. The subject of the book is very interesting to me, and I definitely learned a fair amount in the first third of the book that I read.

But this book began to be painful to read. The author goes off topic quite often with rants about things that make me just like him less and less as a person.

When I got to the part about his cancer, and chastising his wife for using GPS I just completely lost interest in finishing the book.

[Socraticgadfly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good but not great overall.

Final verdict is not split, but a three-part rating.

Four stars for an Escalante book, given there’s not a lot to work with. I did learn that Dominguez-Escalante went further north than I knew, not realizing they’d been in the Piceance. Ditto on them going a bit further west and south than I realized before turning away from the idea of California. (Sidebar: Roberts gave me some new hiking ideas.)

Five stars as a travelogue for what it reveals about Roberts.

Three and three-quarters stars, even with the cancer allowance, for the actual revelations.

Overall? Four stars. Some complaints are legit but I can’t three-star it. But, I’ve read enough Roberts to see previous clunkers (the Reuss book, definitely) as well as great stuff; I’m not a blank-check fanboi.

Now, to some actual issues and some pseudo-issues with the book.

First, I’m with many others on the lack of maps. The one frontispiece map is only semi-legible at that size. Rotating it 90 degrees to enlarge it would have been of modest help. Breakout maps of individual sections of the trip (ie, Santa Fe to Durango area, Delores River, etc.) would have been much better.

Second, per one other reviewer, why didn’t he rent an RV? This is where, per Roberts talking about reading between the lines on Escalante’s journal, I start reading between the lines on his book. I think not camping out would have been too much of a mental surrender for Roberts, and so, pain and discomfort be damned, it was a tent! Yes, a RAV4 all wheel drive could get to places a small RV might not, but maybe some of them come with AWD. Alternative two? Since he took time off to hit Bluff and interrupt the trip? More motels.

The RV would be better for allowing open windows for Southwestern aromas, yet shut windows on cooler nights at higher elevations.

Roberts about halfway through references his long through-hike of Comb Ridge with Craig Childs and others. In 2004. Again reading between the lines, I get the feeling that is the last semi-serious hiking he’d done. Remorse lies in the background 13 years later.

That said, I can’t totally blame him. (Me, I just crash in the back of the rental SUV I get for vacation. I can still smell the outdoors much better, and cheaper, than in a motel without the hassle of setting up a tent.)

Third is the irony factor. Roberts attacks the Dominguez-Escalante bicentennial group both for a false exactitude and for occasional pedantism, when he does both himself at times. (That includes originally appearing to state certitude on the source of the naming of the Duchesne River, where Wiki says no such certitude exists, then later caveating.)

Fourth is the hypocrisy factor. As other reviewers have noted, Roberts will know in advance of Indian reservation restrictions on roads, trespassing, travel, etc., but still try to evade them, or refuse to accept the rationale behind him.

Fifth, there are writing issues. Early on, one section came off like a history prof writing a book based on previous monologues and essays who doesn’t do the editing to fit these things together into chapters. Then, there’s bits of highway geography errors. Utah state 46, not a county road, goes east from US 191 south of Moab. US 50, not 550, traverses between Montrose and Grand Junction. Colorado 92, not 90, goes east from Delta. (There's a couple of other road geography issues.)

Sixth, I reject some of his reading between the lines, like his general rejection of the Utes referring to Comanches. Since both are Numic speakers and both presumably part of the migration that also led many Shoshoni eastward from Nevada, it seems quite possible Comanches were still west of the Rockies at this time, though only a minority of them. Roberts later on says these could have been Shoshones, but that then ties with No. 5. Why doesn't he say that the first time he discusses the issue?

Three and four are nothing new to me, having read the majority of Roberts’ books. No. 5 is, and it’s inexcusable. Yes, he had cancer, but his research assistant should have fact-checked. If not, copy editors. (The book publishing world continues to slouch toward Gomorrah.)

AT THE SAME TIME:
This book has gotten some bad reader review press. I had heard about some of the complaints about the book, especially on Roberts’ personal side, when it came out. And, they’re largely not only unwarranted, but some are outright bush.

Take a reviewer who says Roberts made a waitress in Provo cry. Well, that reviewer, obviously deliberately, omits that Roberts asked her “Where the hell’s my food” after waiting TWO HOURS without it, not two hours after getting to the restaurant but TWO HOURS after ordering. I would have walked out without paying long earlier, myself.

Or take reviewers criticizing Roberts on religion. They’re apparently ignorant that in pre-1680 New Mexico, the priests were generally more brutal to Indians than were civil authorities.

I’ve read most of Roberts’ previous books. I’ve been to GSE (which, as he notes, the pair didn’t go through) and Vermillion Cliffs and hiked in both. Just got back from a vacation hiking in the Dominguez Conservation Area on the lower Gunnison (which, as he notes, the pair didn’t go through). Nice place, if you go to the more northerly of the two east-side entries to the wilderness area.

[James Easterson · Rating 3 out of 5]

I felt the story and the writing was fairly fragmented especially in the first half of the book as well as jumping back and forth and using multiple unexplained names for the same people and places. Rather confusing to follow but you get the idea.

[Kim Cabrera · Rating 4 out of 5]

Escalante’s Dream documents the Spanish exploration of the Southwest in 1776 by the Dominguez-Escalante expedition. The expedition was led by two padres, Francisco Atanasio Domínguez and Francisco Vélez de Escalante. Their goal was to find a trail from Sante Fe to Monterey.

The book is written as a narrative of a modern day couple who set out to follow the route used by the padres in 1776. They follow the route in a vehicle as doing it these days on foot would be incredibly difficult, if not impossible due to all the land ownership and access issues they would face. They also chose a vehicular retracing of the route because the author is struggling with the effects of cancer treatment, so it makes way more sense to follow it that way. The author has a copy of the journal kept by the expedition and relies on those explanations to find the route. At times, the journal frustratingly lacks detail, so it is impossible to pin down some of the exact locations. The author and his wife cover distances in hours that took the padres days to cover.

Along the way, we learn many historical facts about the expedition. I found it fascinating since this is not one of the more famous expeditions you find detailed in history books. It wasn’t a large one and there were no wars fought. It was just a group trying to find a route in a desert where they had no idea what lay ahead. The expedition, it turned out, was unprepared for what they would encounter. They brought too little food and too few people. They even ended up eating their own horses because they ran out of food. They were, it seems, hopelessly lost without a clue where they were going. There were no maps, of course. They tried to find local natives to help direct them, but when they did find them, there were language barriers that prevented communication between the groups. There were also some cultural misunderstandings on the part of the Spaniards.

The route was retraced in 1976 as part of Bicentennial events and there are some markers along the way left by the historians of that time. Whether the locations are accurate is questionable due to the lack of detail in the original journal kept by the expedition.

The narrative is part modern-day retelling and part historical facts from the journal. The author encounters many people along the way, some more helpful than others. He did seem, to me anyway, to have an issue with the staff at the visitor centers and information desks where they stopped. If the staff could not answer his questions, he seemed to think they were incompetent. What he may not know is that, most of the people who staff the information desks at public parks are retired volunteers who just do it to help out. You won’t find a historian sitting there answering questions from tourists all day. It’s mostly just retired folks who enjoy helping out and want to be of service. So, I think the author needs to cut those folks some slack. He wrote several times about the lack of knowledge among those staff. Also, he’s got to be aware that this was not a huge or well-known expedition, so people who have detailed knowledge of it are going to be few and far between. As he found while passing through towns with a connection to the expedition, most people these days have no idea what happened at their location in 1776. Not unless they have specifically studied that era. So, expectation vs. reality needs to be addressed there.

I did enjoy this as a travelogue and history lesson. There are some very interesting bits, such as how the Crossing of the Fathers was named, and the etchings on trees and rocks found all these years later. Those were fascinating. At times, the narrative did seem to drag a bit, or veer off too much into modern concerns, but it did get back to the history lessons later. I enjoyed the windows into the life in the native villages the Spaniards encountered. The lack of cultural understanding was expected, but still disturbing to see what they wrote about these encounters in the journal. The places that the Spaniards went were sometimes incredibly inaccessible. Some still are to this day, which is as it should be. There should be places left where people don’t go, that keep their secrets.

If you enjoy historical travelogues, then you will like this book. I recommend it.

[Linda · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've enjoyed many of Roberts' previous books dealing with mountaineering, and two with adventure subjects in the Southwest canyon country. This one was bittersweet as Roberts possibly faces the end of his writing as he continues to struggle with serious cancer and its side effects. In 2017, well enough to travel without rugged hiking or backpacking, he and his wife of 50 years decided they could do a driving trip along the approximate route of 2 Franciscan priests who led a small expedition in 1776 out of the Spanish colony centered in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Loaded with the journals and a route retrace done in 1976, they headed north into Utah, Colorado and back across northern Arizona in a grand and very rugged loop. Roberts always evokes a word picture of the countryside and interweaves his and Sharon's reactions and experiences. I've enjoyed a couple road trips my husband and I have taken through the wild canyon country of this area, so I really enjoyed the armchair experience of this book and used some maps to fix in my own mind the geography. I could relate to his somewhat humorous experience trying to eat in a nice sit-down restaurant in a majority Mormon community is Utah, because we had a comparable experience. Just an older couple eating alone are a bit out of place. I really appreciated his epilogue as much as the chapters,
first because he's able to reflect on 240 year old attitudes, which today rather shock us, and place those attitudes into their own historical period, not ours, and review how recently some thinking about other cultures has evolved. Second, he pays great attention to his wife Sharon, who did not take part in his own great adventures in the outdoors or in his previous books, but had a major role in this one. I intend to find copies of a couple of his other earlier books about the Southwest, as he's obviously very familiar with some of the pueblo/anasazi history of the region and this book reminded me of all that history and archaeology in the area.

[James (JD) Dittes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just two months after the signing of the Declaration of Independence a small party of just over a dozen individuals left Santa Fe. Their stated goal was to forge a path that would connect the capital of Nuevo Mexico with the newly established mission of Monterey on the Pacific Coast.

The roundabout route the party took provided otherwise. The leaders of the expedition, both Franciscan priests, gave up all talk of California and resolutely set about converting the natives and missionarying. Their general route took them northward along the western slope of the Rockies just beyond today's Grand Junction, Colorado, then westward to modern-day Provo, where they (wisely, considering that the treacherous Great Basin and the Sierra Nevada still lay between them and their stated goal) gave up their stated quest and headed south towards near Zion National Park before turning eastward to skirt the northern rim of the Grand Canyon on their way back home.

In that day, it was a journey of much discovery and much danger: slot canyons, parties of raiding Comanche, constant need for food and watering holes. Even in our modern era, much of the territory they roamed remains desolate--but very beautiful.

I read this book to reconnect with a region of the United States that is close to my heart. Roberts's book is an excellent guide, tapping his decades of experience hiking the Southwest in search of Anasazi artifacts and lost vagabonds, and tying insights from a lifetime of adventure into the diaries of the expedition.

I was also surprised by how personal the book was, as it described the longest road trip in a long partnership with his wife, Sharon, and days made more precious after his two-year battle with Stage 4 cancer. The book is a fine balance of the historic, the personal, and the experiences of one of America's foremost adventure writers.

[David Hill · Rating 3 out of 5]

Looking at a 3-star rating, you might not think I enjoyed the book that much. But I had a good time with this one.

The author takes his wife and a rented SUV along the roads that more or less trace the route Dominguez and Escalante traveled 250 years ago.

I have seen the Escalante name in various places in my travels but didn't have any clue who he may have been. Having spent most of my life living in Colorado and Arizona, I've been trying to learn more about the history of the area (mostly Colorado, but the Four Corners states in general) including the early European explorers, the territorial history, and the story of the indigenous peoples who were here for centuries before that.

Escalante's journal isn't that long or detailed, so I admire the author's work in following the route. He didn't do the figuring out alone: he several times mentions the work of a group who did a lot of detective work in the late 1970s who embarked on a similar journey for the bicentennial of D&E's expedition.

Some might be critical of the author putting himself into the story. I didn't read the book to learn about him, but it's okay, really. There are layers in this one: Escalante's journal, the work of the bicentennial team, and the author.

While reading, I kept referring to two additional resources. First, I followed along on a map. I've driven most of the roads the author took (the paved ones, at least). I never did this loop as a single trip, but I have visited many of the places several times, so with the aid of the map I had a pretty good mind's eye view of the terrain. Second, I found a copy of Escalante's journal online and often found myself reading entire entries where the author made excerpts.

If you are interested in the exploration of the old west or are a fan of travelogues, this one might interest you.

[VerJean · Rating 5 out of 5]

Winston and I listened to this "read" to us via the audio book.
I've enjoyed several books by the author, Roberts, and have several more I've started and intend to finish, as well as more that are on my shelf. Devil's Gate (Mormon handcart tragedy) and The Great Pueblo Revolt are favorites.
This book introduces explorers we weren't familiar with. Had wondered about the "Escalante" names in the southwest, but dummy me, thought perhaps they were a descriptive term and not an explorer's name. We'll look forward to looking for / finding some of the places - on our next trip southwest. And many areas/references to that area and it's exploration now have further meaning, as well.
This is a much more personal book - as it is specifically written from the perspective of a road trip to follow the trip as well as possible. Also more personal, as the types of mountain climbing, rugged hiking and extensive exploring are now not possible as Roberts fights cancer. Thus, instead of wondering why he sometimes does not have more in-depth answers on terrain, etc - we are reminded that he must accept physical limitations and is unable to do what he once thought nothing of. Sigh, I guess there is a reminder to all of us . . . .
Nonetheless, he has dedicated decades to exploring the terrains and investigating the history of the southwest and not many have such overall basis of knowledge to share.
Also a different tenor to this volume, since it's also now the story of campng, exploring, traveling with his wife of 5 decades - and a few of those spousal quirks, charms and sometimes annoyances. Ahhh . . the joy of travel . . .

[Alan Kaplan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Escalante's dream is about the Spanish Lewis and Clark. Many Americans do not realize that Spain controlled the American southwest for centuries. From the 1500's until the 1800's and Mexican independence in the 1820's, Spain controlled this huge region. The United States took over this huge territory after the Mexican American war in the 1840's. Escalante and Dominguez were two Spanish padres who wanted to travel from Santa Fe to Monterey in 1776. In fact their journey began on July 4, 1776. Along the way, they wanted to preach and therefore convert the various Indian tribes to Catholicism. What is interesting about this journey is that they had no idea where they were going or how to get there. The American southwest at this point in history was for the most part completely untracked wilderness. Escalante left a diary of his journey, and since then many people have attempted to follow his path which wends from New Mexico thru Colorado, Utah, and Arizona. They successfully returned back to Santa Fe which really was not a success. They did not make it to Monterey and they did not convert any Indians. They really had no idea where they had been what they had even seen. The author of this book attempts to recreate their journey which is really not possible due to highways and strip malls and dams. The landscape has been completely altered by modern civilization. This book is for people who want to learn some pretty esoteric stuff about the southwest. New Mexico, California, and Arizona were under Spanish control much longer than they have been under American sovereignty.

[Mystic Miraflores · Rating 2 out of 5]

This should have been a great book for me to read personally. First of all, I grew up in New Mexico and am familiar with many of the places mentioned in the book. Secondly, I attended the University of New Mexico as an undergrad and worked at the New Mexico Historical Review, where I received an education about the state's history. Finally, during the summer of 2018 my husband and I (we live near Washington DC) took an RV trip to many of the same places mentioned in this book throughout New Mexico, Colorado, Utah and Arizona. However, this book was SO boring. How the author could take such an interesting subject and location and write such a dull, dry, and meandering book is such a huge disappointment! Our RV trip was very exciting and educational--nothing like this book. The author mixed up so many themes in this book, instead of sticking just to one: following in the steps of D&E. Instead, he covered his illness (which could have been another book in itself), his past adventures, other authors and travelers following the same path, etc. And I felt so annoyed at him because every other page, I felt like telling him: "You should have rented an RV!" He was cold or freezing or uncomfortable sleeping in a tent; he had to go to the bathroom in the woods; his wife didn't feel safe sleeping in a tent in the open, he had food concerns, etc. After a while, it was like traveling with a complaining relative and got on my nerves. THEY SHOULD HAVE RENTED AN RV!

[Nancy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Escalante’s Dream: On the Trail of the Spanish Discovery of the Southwest / David Roberts. A great deal of the pleasure of this book was reading it aloud with husband Lee. Another portion of the pleasure was reading another book by David Roberts, perhaps the 15th or 16th (out of thirty or so). And then there was the history intermixed with an account of Roberts’ 2017 trip, with wife Sharon, along the trail of the 1776-77 Domínguez-Escalante Expedition. This Spanish expedition from Santa Fe, New Mexico to, it was hoped, Monterey, California, was led by two Franciscan priests, motivated in large part, by the opportunity to convert Native Americans to Christianity (and, of course, by the consequent political takeover of these peoples and their lands and resources.) Much of the journey was through unexplored territory, for any Europeans. This account is largely based upon the diary/journal of Escalante. We would have appreciated detailed maps. Otherwise, we enjoyed this thoughtful, relatively early narrative of Southwestern encounters and experiences and the thoughtful, modern narrative of an American couple near the end of their adventuring life—all of which is connected by geography and humanity.

[Paul Henry · Rating 2 out of 5]

A travelogue detailing the author and his wife attempting to follow the route two Spanish friars and their team took exploring southwest U.S. in the mid 18th century. Their task as determined by both the church and the provincial government: find a route from Santa Fe to Monterey; look for gold and silver; and convert the "heathen" they met to Christianity. There was a previous exploration team about 10 years previous and the friars relied on a member of that team for pathfinding. The only primary source material is a journal kept by friar Escalante. There was a bicentennial team that also attempted to follow the Spanish explorers route. Both latter-day teams used geographic descriptions in Escalante's journal to attempt to determine routes and campsites. The book has a bibliography but it's not footnoted. Sometimes the author gives credit in the narration, other times not, instead using phraseology like "Archeologists have determined. . ." Some of the writing contains clumsy syntax that I had to re-read to make sense of it. In one case, after re-reading the sentence several times I was still at a loss to make heads or tails of it. Whoever edited the book didn't do the author any favors. To my mind, the author made too much of his health problems experienced during the trip.

[Scott · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 or 3. I can’t decide. Roberts is a good writer, but his and his wife’s quest to follow the trail of 18th century Spanish explorers Domínguez and Escalante is a humorless tour through the southwest. I knew very little about the D and E expedition before reading this book, so I found the historical narrative interesting. Unfortunately, Roberts’s contempt for nearly everyone he meets on the road—especially women—spoils the book. I mean, did he really need to tell us about how he terrorized an eighteen-year-old waitress in Provo? He’s no Tony Horwitz.

Of course, it didn’t help that I realized a quarter of the way into the book that Roberts was the same guy who wrote Devil’s Gate, a book about the 1856 Mormon handcart tragedy. I didn’t like that book either, mainly because of the author’s contemptuous tone. Mormons don’t fare much better in Escalante’s Dream. Roberts prides himself in approaching all historical records and traditions skeptically, but when it comes to believing conspiracy theories about 19th century Mormons, he’s all in.

If there’s any poignancy in this book, it’s in the fact that Roberts is dying from cancer. The last few paragraphs are tender reflections on his life and fifty-year marriage. I wish the book had more heartfelt passages like these.

[litost · Rating 5 out of 5]

Roberts has cancer. As he now thinks of his traverse of Comb Ridge (written-up in Sandstone Spine) as his last backpack, you can see he thinks of this as his last car-camp: he is saying good-bye. The trip traces, more or less, the route of the two Dominican friars, Domínguez and Escalante, who explored the American Southwest in 1776. But it’s really a reminiscence. As he & his wife Sharon tool along in their rental car, he thinks about far more than the Spanish friars. Every place reminds him of its’ history, much of which he has written books about. And every turn in the road reminds him of his personal history: past trips and the friends he made them with.

I owe a debt to Roberts: just as Fred Blackburn introduced him to the Anasazi, Roberts, through his books, introduced me; my Spring trips to the Southwest have become a highlight of my life. I think of Roberts as an old friend I haven’t actually met, and I’m happy to travel with him as he recounts his stories. But I can imagine those without that connection could be turned-off by the digressions and the sections where he comes across as a grumpy old man. Highly recommended for fans of Roberts and the Southwest.

[Wayne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Book 13 of 2022: Escalante's Dream by David Roberts (2019, Norton, 337 p.)

This book, tells 3 different stories: the story of the Dominquez-Escalante 1776 expedition to explore the American Southwest, the story of the Bicentennial Commission that attempted to discern the route the expedition took, and a kind of travel log of Roberts and his wife Sharon as they traverse the 1776 expedition's route.

While I have read Escalante's journal of the expedition, I found Roberts narrative and interpretation of the journals to be very information. Likewise the narrative of the Bicentennial Commission's field work to define the route. Less informative was the travel log aspects, although I did find the descriptions of picnic lunches a bit tedious. As an aging American, I found the descriptions of Roberts' increasing infirmities (due to aggressive cancer) to be enlightening. At the end of his journey, Roberts cancer has returned with a vengeance. Roberts died in 2021 at age 78.

I would recommend this book, mostly for his narrative of the expedition, based on Escalante's journal and historical research.

[Barbara Q · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not my favorite David Roberts book. It was too long, not that much is known about the D and E expedition and part of their trail is now under Lake Powell so the author didn’t have a lot of material for his story. In summary: In 1776 two Franciscan friars and their crew of 10 men traveled counterclockwise in a ragged circled around the Four Corners area, before aborting their goal of mapping a trade route to Monterey from Santa Fe.

It is an important and a neglected part of the history of the SW though and, if nothing else, it describes the absolute fervent desire of the padres to proselytize and convert the indigenes to Christianity. Their naïveté and condescending attitude in this regard are astounding. But, as Roberts notes, this was before cultural relativity was named and used.


If this is your first Roberts book, don’t dismiss his ability to write better, more interesting books. There are several of them.

(Also, the exchanges with his wife seemed a bit forced and awkward to me.)