The Great Southwest

Without a camera around my neck, I’m a “ne’er-do-well.” Policemen are fond of an old saying, “If you have to explain what you’re doing in someone’s field on the wrong side of a barbed wire fence, then it’s too late. You’re already in a heap of trouble.” I’m not against asking permission to shoot somewhere but it’s easier to ask for forgiveness when accompanied by a little dog in a plaid sweater.

Photo Story by Collin Brown My italian greyhound, Dan, is a friend to all. People ask if they can take his photo. Now, I’m just a guy walking his dog...no “ne’er-do-wells” here.

Recently, I went on road trip from Los Angeles, California to spend Christmas in Taos, New Mexico with my folks. The most direct route takes 13-14 hours but I managed to do it in...only twelve days! Along the way, I visited Bryce and Zion National Parks and Monument Valley in Utah, as well as the Navajo slot canyons in Page, Arizona. Outside the town of Tropic, Utah (population 508) I found a lonesome barn in a snowy field. It’s also where I met the policeman. There was definitely not a smile hiding beneath his mustache. He kept calling me Seth (not my name), he told me had been following me and knew what I was up to, and that I was in a heap of trouble. “Hold on,” I told him. “I need to shut the car door for my dog.” His hand went to his holster, and peering in the window, the policeman’s tone shifted. “Oh, he’s wearing a cute little sweater,” he said. He was still smiling as he drove off.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived in Kodachrome Basin State Park. Towards the rear of the park, a dangling sign read, ROAD CLOSED. But, lucky for me, half the gate was left open—so in I went. After photographing a rock that looked much less like a sphinx the closer I got I heard a pickup truck. The park ranger slowed down just enough to give my dog and I a friendly wave. The moral of the story: GSQUAD + Ina’s 1969 + littledogplaid-Sweater = No ne’er-do-wells.