Canyon Country Zephyr page 31

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bage, and prunes. We ate rice, cucumbers, raw potatoes, baked potatoes, and tomatoes. All the things they

say are GOOD for you now. We didn't have pies or cakes or anything sweet, because we couldn't afford it."

After marriage, she graduated from high school, gave birth to a daughter, and headed west to explore deserts, canyons, mountains, and rivers, including the Green, San Juan, and Colorado.

She hiked, climbed, swam, and paddled. She attributes her stamina to good genes.

"You inherit things. I believe you inherit TERRIFIC," she says earnestly. "I don't need glasses and my hearing is good.

I'm always active. I'm Irish and English on my mother's side, French on my father's. My mother used to say, 'That's French and alley cat.'" She laughs delightedly. "Of course, that makes you sturdy, because, anybody knows, animals or otherwise, these are the sturdy ones. Not if you're a thoroughbred, you'd never be sturdy. I like the mutts, I pick up the mutts." She grins.

Georgie always has had pets. Three cats and a dog live in her mobile home in Las Vegas, and she lavishes attention on them.

anybody know the address. I don't NEED anyone, so I'm never lonely.

"My mother taught me to be self-sufficient. She always said, 'We're poor, there's no down.' And she never downed me. She told me to go for it! When I was thinking of going down the Colorado River in a life preserver and people said it couldn't be done, my mother said, 'Go for it! I'm sure you'll make it.'"

The smell of grilled meat floats over to us and Georgie excuses herself to oversee dinner. Hungry boaters have lined up with their cups and plates. Appetites run high on the river.

Later we talk about her daughter Sommona Rose, who was killed at the age of 15. "I named her after a French woman I knew," says Georgie in a loving tone. She describes how she and Sommona Rose did everything together: traveled, hiked, climbed rocks and mountains, even learned to fly together when Georgie trained as a pilot in the U.S. Ferry Command in World War II.

They were riding bicycles on the California coast when a drunk truck driver hit the girl, killing her instantly. The police tracked the driver, but Georgie declined to bring charges. "It wouldn't bring her back," she says quietly.

For a few weeks, she lived in depression. Then she met Harry Aleson, a fellow Sierra Club member and explorer. Aleson showed her slides of his hikes in the canyon country of Arizona and Utah. Georgie was hooked. A new world opened up and she suggested they hike it together. She and Harry became friends, and over the years, they covered many miles. Twice they floated down the Colorado River of the Grand Canyon.

"I was out here on the river 25 years when there was absolutely nobody here," she recalls. "All the people on my trips depended on me, period. There wasn't nobody else. There was no helicopters, there was NOTHING down here. The park rangers were not here. That was before the dams were built. These were long trips, one- and two-week trips."

At 80, she is strong in body and mind. She takes pride in not being emotional. "My mother taught us not to cry. We don't have that emotion. I don't have it about marriage or nothing.

I was never one who had stars in my eyes. I was not one who grew up wantin' or being man-crazy. In fact, the men had to prove theirself to me!

"Oh, sure," she goes on. "I miss the people who've died, like my sister Marie, because we were peas in a pod. But there's no way I was going to cry, because I don't know HOW to cry.

"The Grand Canyon

is my home.

Forty-eight years now."

Her eagle-like eyes blaze.

"I feed 'em and pet 'em and let 'em sit in my lap," she says. "I always turn on the TV for 'em. The cats like to look at TV. Not for me, I don't watch. The first night I'm back from a trip, I stay up to keep 'em company, even though I'd like to go to bed.

"My sister used to accuse me of liking animals better than people, because I RAVED for them first," she goes on quickly.

"My family's all dead: mother, brother, two sisters, and daughter. My father left us early on. My mother never talked agin' him. He was a Frenchman from France and she said he just simply should not have been married, that he was a party guy.

So we didn't know anything about dads. When people today yak all this stuff about 'You should have two parents,' I just laugh, because my mother was so terrific."

She doesn't mention two former husbands. I read in her book, Georgie Clark, Thirty Years of River Running, that in high school, she married Harold White, the father of her daughter.

Later they divorced and she married James Whitey. '"He eventually went his way and I went mine,'" she writes. '"Although I have been married most of my life, I'm afraid I've always been quite independent. I have always lived life my own way, no matter what my husband thought. Of course that's not the way to get along with a man, but then that was the way I have always been.'"

Her animals are her family now. "I like pets really as good as humans. Anyone can benefit from pets," she goes on enthusiastically.

"It's too bad when people don't like animals, because animals, I think, are the BEST thing on earth. When I have a dog, I usually have a yard where he can run free.

"And cats," she exclaims. "I love cats because they will have freedom, even if they starve to death. I always say I'd be like the cats. I'll go sit on a fence and howl, even if I starve to death!" She laughs hard. "Animals treat you just like you treat them. You've gotta have the interest, put them BEFORE you.

Whatever you get, take care of it." She looks fierce.

Georgie is a loner. Except for a couple of good friends, including her office manager, she keeps to herself. "I like to live alone," she says. "I don't even let

"I don't go to funerals.

I don't see funerals at all, because

when people are gone, they're gone.

They're out of it.

You do whatever you want

to do for 'em in lifetime."

"I don't go to funerals. I don't see funerals at all, because when people are gone, they're gone. They're out of it. You do whatever you want to do for 'em in lifetime."

Georgie has been "doing for" people all her life, starting with her older brother and sister. "We were always taught that no matter what, you helped one another and supported one another, good or bad," she says. She's helped Navajo Indians who live in the Grand Canyon. At Christmas, she persuaded friends and businesses to donate food, candy, and clothing, then trucked it herself to the reservations. "I like the Navajo," she says quietly. "I could've been a Navajo, lived as one.

"The Navajo feel the same way I do about life, about nature and sex. If they need it, they do it. That's that. They don't use all this build-up, with fancy dress and undress. This is RIDICULOUS. The Navajos never did such a thing. It flows natural. When I was young, I didn't even think of sex. If I wanted anything, I took it. If I didn't, forget it!" She laughs.

"There's no emotion in sex, there's no nothing. It's like eating. If you need it,

CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE...

New & Re-newed BACKBONE MEMBERS for FEB/MAR

SCOTT THOMPSON Beckley, WV

also:

ERIC PROBASCO

Mt Pleasant, UT finger

HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!

This has been our slowest month for both new & re-newed memberships since we went online, two years ago.

WE NEED YOUR HELP! Check the home page for details on how to support THE Z...

MIKE

WILTSHIRE

Victoria, BC

CANADA

DALE LEE

Sandy, UT funnybone

DAVID GREENBERG Westport, CT finger

PAMELA BINA

St George, UT finger

THANKS!

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	bage, and prunes. We ate rice, cucumbers, raw potatoes, baked potatoes, and tomatoes. All the things they say are GOOD for you now. We didn't have pies or cakes or anything sweet, because we couldn't afford it." After marriage, she graduated from high school, gave birth to a daughter, and headed west to explore deserts, canyons, mountains, and rivers, including the Green, San Juan, and Colorado. She hiked, climbed, swam, and paddled. She attributes her stamina to good genes. "You inherit things. I believe you inherit TERRIFIC," she says earnestly. "I don't need glasses and my hearing is good. I'm always active. I'm Irish and English on my mother's side, French on my father's. My mother used to say, 'That's French and alley cat.'" She laughs delightedly. "Of course, that makes you sturdy, because, anybody knows, animals or otherwise, these are the sturdy ones. Not if you're a thoroughbred, you'd never be sturdy. I like the mutts, I pick up the mutts." She grins. Georgie always has had pets. Three cats and a dog live in her mobile home in Las Vegas, and she lavishes attention on them. anybody know the address. I don't NEED anyone, so I'm never lonely. "My mother taught me to be self-sufficient. She always said, 'We're poor, there's no down.' And she never downed me. She told me to go for it! When I was thinking of going down the Colorado River in a life preserver and people said it couldn't be done, my mother said, 'Go for it! I'm sure you'll make it.'" The smell of grilled meat floats over to us and Georgie excuses herself to oversee dinner. Hungry boaters have lined up with their cups and plates. Appetites run high on the river. Later we talk about her daughter Sommona Rose, who was killed at the age of 15. "I named her after a French woman I knew," says Georgie in a loving tone. She describes how she and Sommona Rose did everything together: traveled, hiked, climbed rocks and mountains, even learned to fly together when Georgie trained as a pilot in the U.S. Ferry Command in World War II. They were riding bicycles on the California coast when a drunk truck driver hit the girl, killing her instantly. The police tracked the driver, but Georgie declined to bring charges. "It wouldn't bring her back," she says quietly. For a few weeks, she lived in depression. Then she met Harry Aleson, a fellow Sierra Club member and explorer. Aleson showed her slides of his hikes in the canyon country of Arizona and Utah. Georgie was hooked. A new world opened up and she suggested they hike it together. She and Harry became friends, and over the years, they covered many miles. Twice they floated down the Colorado River of the Grand Canyon. "I was out here on the river 25 years when there was absolutely nobody here," she recalls. "All the people on my trips depended on me, period. There wasn't nobody else. There was no helicopters, there was NOTHING down here. The park rangers were not here. That was before the dams were built. These were long trips, one- and two-week trips." At 80, she is strong in body and mind. She takes pride in not being emotional. "My mother taught us not to cry. We don't have that emotion. I don't have it about marriage or nothing. I was never one who had stars in my eyes. I was not one who grew up wantin' or being man-crazy. In fact, the men had to prove theirself to me! "Oh, sure," she goes on. "I miss the people who've died, like my sister Marie, because we were peas in a pod. But there's no way I was going to cry, because I don't know HOW to cry. "The Grand Canyon is my home. Forty-eight years now." Her eagle-like eyes blaze. "I feed 'em and pet 'em and let 'em sit in my lap," she says. "I always turn on the TV for 'em. The cats like to look at TV. Not for me, I don't watch. The first night I'm back from a trip, I stay up to keep 'em company, even though I'd like to go to bed. "My sister used to accuse me of liking animals better than people, because I RAVED for them first," she goes on quickly. "My family's all dead: mother, brother, two sisters, and daughter. My father left us early on. My mother never talked agin' him. He was a Frenchman from France and she said he just simply should not have been married, that he was a party guy. So we didn't know anything about dads. When people today yak all this stuff about 'You should have two parents,' I just laugh, because my mother was so terrific." She doesn't mention two former husbands. I read in her book, Georgie Clark, Thirty Years of River Running, that in high school, she married Harold White, the father of her daughter. Later they divorced and she married James Whitey. '"He eventually went his way and I went mine,'" she writes. '"Although I have been married most of my life, I'm afraid I've always been quite independent. I have always lived life my own way, no matter what my husband thought. Of course that's not the way to get along with a man, but then that was the way I have always been.'" Her animals are her family now. "I like pets really as good as humans. Anyone can benefit from pets," she goes on enthusiastically. "It's too bad when people don't like animals, because animals, I think, are the BEST thing on earth. When I have a dog, I usually have a yard where he can run free. "And cats," she exclaims. "I love cats because they will have freedom, even if they starve to death. I always say I'd be like the cats. I'll go sit on a fence and howl, even if I starve to death!" She laughs hard. "Animals treat you just like you treat them. You've gotta have the interest, put them BEFORE you. Whatever you get, take care of it." She looks fierce. Georgie is a loner. Except for a couple of good friends, including her office manager, she keeps to herself. "I like to live alone," she says. "I don't even let "I don't go to funerals. I don't see funerals at all, because when people are gone, they're gone. They're out of it. You do whatever you want to do for 'em in lifetime." "I don't go to funerals. I don't see funerals at all, because when people are gone, they're gone. They're out of it. You do whatever you want to do for 'em in lifetime." Georgie has been "doing for" people all her life, starting with her older brother and sister. "We were always taught that no matter what, you helped one another and supported one another, good or bad," she says. She's helped Navajo Indians who live in the Grand Canyon. At Christmas, she persuaded friends and businesses to donate food, candy, and clothing, then trucked it herself to the reservations. "I like the Navajo," she says quietly. "I could've been a Navajo, lived as one. "The Navajo feel the same way I do about life, about nature and sex. If they need it, they do it. That's that. They don't use all this build-up, with fancy dress and undress. This is RIDICULOUS. The Navajos never did such a thing. It flows natural. When I was young, I didn't even think of sex. If I wanted anything, I took it. If I didn't, forget it!" She laughs. "There's no emotion in sex, there's no nothing. It's like eating. If you need it, CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE... New & Re-newed BACKBONE MEMBERS for FEB/MAR SCOTT THOMPSON Beckley, WV also: ERIC PROBASCO Mt Pleasant, UT finger HELP!!!!!!!!!!!! This has been our slowest month for both new & re-newed memberships since we went online, two years ago. WE NEED YOUR HELP! Check the home page for details on how to support THE Z... MIKE WILTSHIRE Victoria, BC CANADA DALE LEE Sandy, UT funnybone DAVID GREENBERG Westport, CT finger PAMELA BINA St George, UT finger THANKS!

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