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Scott Thybony's Canyon Commentary: 'No Accidents'

Bruce Dale
/
National Geographic

Science supports the notion that everything happens for a reason. Traditional Paiute Indians also believe that. At least that's what commentator Scott Thybony came to believe after he took part in a Paiute sweat lodge ceremony. In his latest Canyon Commentary, Thybony tells us about an experience that brought science and cultural tradition together. 

Darkness presses close and heavy, thick with heat. Suddenly bursts of steam hiss upward, again and agin, as waves of raw heat fill the sweat lodge. "Water has the power to give life," says Benn Pikyavit, a Paiute elder who wears his hair in tight braids. "It has the power to take life away." With a spring of sagebrush he flicks an infusion of cedar, sweetgrass, and salt from the Grand Canyon on the rocks. The pleasant aroma sharpens the senses as he sings a Ghost Dance song to the strong cadence of drumbeats. "Okay," he finally says, "that's the end of round two."

With two more rounds to go, I'm not sure if I can hold out. Earlier that day I drove to Moccasin, Arizona, with National Geographic photographer Bruce Dale who is doing an article about John Wesley Powell. The one-armed canyon explorer had a long-standing interest in Paiute customs, and Bruce has in mind a certain photo to illustrate the story. Determined to get the shot he needs, the photographer has returned a year after his first attempt. 

Cool night air flows into the chamber as Benn throws back the blanket covering the entrance. Following him, I crawl outside feeling boneless. To get up and walk on wobbly legs becomes an act of will. Taking deep breaths, I look into the starfield curving from horizon to horizon above the domed roof on the lodge. The entrance faces east toward a raised circle of sand serving as an altar. Eagle feathers hang from a staff planted in the center, and a fire burns beyond it. 

Bruce has stationed himself outside, and as I cool down he tells me about a curious wager between Major Powell and another scientists, WJ McGee. The friends had placed a good-natured bet on who was the smartest. In those days, brain size was thought to be an accurate measure of intelligence, and they agreed to have their brains weighed at death to settle the issue. The Major ended up winning by a slight margin, but by then he wasn't around to collect. Nor was McGee around to pay up. And while investigating the story, Bruce made an interesting discovery. He found Powell's pickled brain still sitting on a storage shelf in the Smithsonian, and photographed it for the article.

"Time for round three," Benn announced, and I duck back inside. We sit crowded together as the Paiute calls for the first rock. He reaches out with a pair of antlers to receive the heated stone, glowing molten red like a meteorite just fallen to earth. This is the shot the photographer has traveled so far to get. He crouches by the entrance with his camera raised and clicks away, using only the reflected light of the fire. Benn places the rock in the center of the lodge and says, "Welcome, Grandfather."

Both Powell and his friend would have fit right in at the Paiute sweat since each scientist took delight in understanding other cultures. And they might have agreed with the Paiute elder who now tells us in a calm voice, "Everything happens for a reason. There are no accidents."

The last round ends about midnight after we have sweated for hours, and to my surprise I feel more energized than when we started. Standing by the fire next to Benn, I ask him if suffering is part of the ceremony. "It's all we have," he says. "It's all we have to give to the Creator, to the Earth." The photographer and I head back to the truck and begin the long drive home. 

Scott Thybony has traveled throughout North America on assignments for major magazines, including Smithsonian, Outside, and Men’s Journal. An article for National Geographic magazine was translated into a dozen languages, and his book, Canyon Country, sold hundreds of thousands of copies. He once herded sheep for a Navajo family, having a hogan to call home and all the frybread he could eat. His commentaries are heard regularly on Arizona Public Radio.