Tag Archives: desert

The Skinwalkers of Colorado Deserts

Text:

“Just tell me everything you know about skin walkers.”

Interviewee: “I have friends who would go camping a lot in the desert in, like, places around Telluride, and were genuinely scared of them. Some people, like some, are not friends, but people I knew would cuss you out if you said the word “skinwalk” and be like, why are you saying that?”

“Just saying it summons them?”

Interviewee: “Yeah. And they’re supposedly, like, some sort of mythical creature that’s in the wilderness and, like, this area.”

“The deserts of Telluride?”

Interviewee: “No, if you drive like 2 hours outside Telluride (a town in Colorado) you’d be in a desert.”

“And that’s Colorado?”

Interviewee: “Yeah.”

“And they are only in deserts?”

Interviewee: “Just like campgrounds, I feel like.”

“What do they look like?”

Interviewee: “They’re, like, very tall. They live on ranches. They’re like shape-shifting, witches, and they can transform into wolves and coyotes. Like people say they see them in the form of like a coyote, like they’ll be driving a car and they’ll be something, and then they’ll be driving a car in pitch black and they’ll see something running next to their car and it’ll slowly morph into something else. It’ll morph in and out to all fours, like a wolf or something. The skinwalker will then follow the car.”

“Do you have any specific stories that your friends have said?”

Interviewee: “No.”

“Have you ever been scared of them while camping?”

Interviewee: “No.”

“Have your parents?”

Interviewee: “Not to my knowledge.”

“So, if you say their name, does it summon them?”

Interviewee: “I’m not sure.”

“Why can’t you speak it?”

Interviewee: “I think maybe, like, people don’t like to just hear about them because they believe in them, and if you speak their name, it reminds them of the concept.”

“So did kids at your high school believe in them?”

Interviewee: “Yes. But it’s more like adults believe in it.”

“Really?”

Interviewee: “Yeah, like, *insert friend’s name*, you might have met. He’s scared of them.”

“Really? Does he go camping a lot?”

Interviewee: “Yeah. He thinks that they’re gonna try to kill him and eat him.”

Context:

The informant grew up and lives in Colorado. He is familiar with camping in the area, as he would camp with his father and brother a lot growing up.

The interviewee recounts what he and his friends have heard about skinwalkers in desert and campground areas in Colorado. The story reflects a mix of local beliefs, especially among adults and camping communities.

Analysis:

This is an example of a legend in belief-based folklore. Skinwalkers are described as shape-shifting witches that can take the form of wolves, coyotes, or humans, and are associated with fear and danger. The taboo against speaking their name reflects a magic superstition, where naming a supernatural being is believed to summon or draw attention from it.

The legend regulates behavior in wilderness areas, keeping people alert, cautious, and respectful of the land. While high school students might treat it as a scary story, adults and frequent campers treat the skinwalker as a serious potential threat. The legend blends supernatural fear with practical warnings about the wilderness, creating a shared cultural narrative within the community.

Mud Night

Folklore:
Holding a Mud Night where a desert, called mud, is served and enjoyed by the family.

Context:
Informant described a tradition from her grandma who held Mud Nights. The night would be delineated through the desert served, mud. Informant described Mud as a chocolate pudding like desert with oreo cookies crushed on top. Also, she noted that looking up mud on the internet to describe the desert, but found they didn’t look similar with the photos found online. The night was special to the informant’s mother who experienced it throughout her childhood and even into adult years, mentioning she returned home during college for some of these events. Informant experienced a few as a young child. The informant noted even though they didn’t particularly like the desert the thing that was special about the Mud Nights were the gathering of the family. Talking with the informant they noted there wasn’t a clear knowledge on who started the tradition.

Analysis:
The celebration seems to be used as a experience from elder to child to help create a shared experience for the family. With the history and variation, it is a special celebration to bring connection between the elders and the youth. Informant noted it was specifically a tradition her grandmother stewarded and continued. It emphasized the importance of family and communicated values of care and joy with its members and participants.

Never Cross Over Train Tracks Into The Desert

Text: You should never cross over train tracks into the desert, especially at night.

Context: My roommate X, a current USC student, grew up in Arizona and recounted to me that when they were 12 they first learned this saying from other kids. They were playing with friends one night and a Nerf bullet was shot too far, landing on the other side of the nearby train tracks. X went to get the bullet and the other kids stopped them with the warning that they should never cross over the tracks into the desert. The kids said “it’s gone now” and explained that X would be “gone” too if they crossed. X heard the saying multiple times while living in Arizona, highlighting first hand accounts of others hearing the voices of loved ones who aren’t present or seeing glowing eyes in the dark. Each account of what was or could be on the other side was different but the message was consistently that you should not cross train tracks into the wilderness.

Interpretation: Upon hearing this, I immediately thought that this saying seems like a warning for children about the dangers of the Arizona wilderness or potentially just train safety. X’s story supported this because they mentioned it was common for children in the area to play near train tracks and the desert so it would make sense for parents to make up a reason as to why their children shouldn’t be near the train tracks. However, as we continued discussing, X made it clear that they heard the accounts of voices and glowing eyes at a much older age from adults who wholeheartedly believed what they saw. As seemingly a memorate, I think this saying could stem from the Native communities of Arizona because the reports of voices reminds me of Skinwalkers or spirits. The train tracks could represent the barrier between the danger/supernatural and safety/civilization.

Bitten by a Black Widow… on his Genitals

Nationality: American
Age: 53
Occupation: Electrician for SoCal Edison
Residence: Palmdale, CA
Performance Date: 4/4/23
Primary Language: English

Context

My father has been an electrician for SoCal Edison for the past two decades. His job involves traveling around the Southern California desert inspecting isolated electrical substations. He is an avid oral storyteller, and his stories often come from the blue-collar line of work that he finds himself in. This is one of such stories about his good work friend who suffered a black widow bite to his testicles while using a porta potty in one of these desert stations. A white man leathered by the sun, my father colors the story by imitating the Mexican accent of his friend, including certain Mexican Spanish slang terms like “cabrón.” This is a story I’ve heard many times, but it didn’t fail to make me cry with laughter during this recording. The story has become a legend among electricians in Southern California, which is what made me think of it for this archive. He told me this story over dinner at my family home in this particular iteration.

Text

SS: The Legend of Hector the Electrician. They were working out at a, at a facility. He had another guy with him. And we were, we had a crew of about eight people, ten people. And they were working together, and I was working somewhere else with somebody else. And they were out in the middle of the desert. And if we work safely for a month, we get a safety lunch, paid [for us to go] out to lunch somewhere. And so I had just gotten to Home Depot for something. I was sitting the parking lot, getting ready to leave. And I get a call from Hector.

SS: And he says, “Hey, cabrón. Just forget about the safety lunch this month.” I said, “What did you do?” And he goes, “Okay, I got bit by a spider.”

SS: And I said, that’s the first question, right? “Where’d you get bit?” He said, “In the balls.” And I said, “No, come on. Just stop messing with me. Tell me what happened.”

SS: “[Imitating his friend] No, cabrón, it’s true!” And I started laughing so hard. I couldn’t drive, I had to stop. I was laughing so hard. And he says “It’s not funny!” Yes, I’m still laughing, and I said, “Well, how’d you know it was a spider? I guess both you and that spider felt a little prick.”

SS: So he was working with this other guy. And his, this guy’s name was Roberto. And he said, “Well, I was lucky I had Roberto along to suck out the poison.” ‘Berto’s in the background saying, “Hell no, that’s not true!” So anyway, he went into an outhouse and sat down on the outhouse in the middle of this dusty desert and there was a black widow spider up underneath–up underneath the toilet rim–barely. Black widow spiders don’t like being ‘teabagged.’ So he did it and he got bit. So we got pictures of him being carried off of an ambulance with a big-big-bag of ice on his balls on a gurney, so, and he was off for a couple days. And then the jokes started flying around, about, because we all knew his wife, about, you know, what happens now, you know? Instead of shooting, you know, [explicit gesture] when he’s, when they’re like getting intimate now, is he like, sticking on the walls? [laughter]

SS: And, and, so you know, it was a good laugh and then and then when he came back, we got his hard hat, we put spiders on it, we put like spider webs all over his desk and everything else. And and and we just, we just made it all up.

SS: So he came back, and kind of a full circle to the story: Sometime later, I was working with a different group of people and I was working in this office and there was these contractors. They’re doing something entirely different–but electrical–and we were talking about, you know, different things we’ve seen, you know, rattlesnakes and things, you know, these guys work outside in the field also. And one of the guys was just sitting there eating lunch and one of those contractors I’d never met before says, “[imitating] There’s this legend about this guy out in the desert that got bit in the balls by a black widow spider. But it’s probably an old wive’s tale.”

SS: And I go, “So let me tell you a story!” [laughter] So that’s a story of Hector and the black widow spider.

Analysis

I chose to include this story in the archive because it is direct evidence of how a true story can become legend. This is indeed a true story; my father works directly with Hector, and I have been over to his house–which is in my neighborhood–for pool parties many times. But the story had the perfect makings to become legend among SoCal Edison electricians and contractors.

The environment, subject, and folklore group are key in understanding the spread of this story as legend. Electricians and contractors in Southern California often come into contact with dangerous wildlife like rattlesnakes and black widow spiders regularly, especially when they are working out in the isolated desert. Thus, the fear of being bitten by a venomous spider is something that resonates among this group, and the idea of being bitten in the testicles is something that is particularly fantastical. It is so fantastical, in fact, that it escaped the boundaries of “fact,” separating from its original subject to become a “wive’s tale.” Instead, the subject becomes a nondescript male electrician, someone who can easily be identified with among the folk group that shares the legend. The legend itself might serve as a warning to electricians who find themselves using porta potties in remote locations to always check under the seat before sitting down.

Arizona Desert Metaphor

Nationality: American
Age: 21
Occupation: Student
Residence: Pheonix, Arizona
Performance Date: 25 April 2018
Primary Language: English

Subject: Folk expression.

Collection: “It’s hotter than a snake’s ass in a wagon rut.”

Background Info: K. Cowdery is 21 years old and a junior Narrative Studies major at the University of Southern California. She grew up in Phoenix, Arizona and now resides in Los Angeles where she attends school.

Context: My friend shared this piece of folklore while joking about odd things the generation over than us say. She heard this from her father’s friend (who is in his late 50’s) and is a cattle rancher. Essentially, in the desert after it rains, the cars and wagons make deep ruts in the road that then harden and crack once the weather gets warm again. Since the ruts get hotter than the surrounding area, snakes like to lay down in the rut to get warm. Since a snake’s butt is located on their stomach is, they are absorbing the heat from the rut and surrounding dessert through their butt.

Analysis: This metaphor capitalizes on a knowledge of and interaction with desert weather and the fauna that calls it home. While someone not from the desert can understand that the simile is used to communicate that it is hot outside, only people who have experienced and forced to live in this kind of heat can call upon a sense memory of Arizona summers where temperatures have been recorded about 110 degrees, giving it extra meaning to those from this specific place. It is logical that the expression is used by cattle ranchers because their occupation requires them to spend a lot of time outside in the elements, encountering both heat and snakes. For those most familiar with these elements of the desert landscape, this phrase allows them to relate about the oppressive conditions of their home, strengthening a sense of belonging to the place and defining what it means to be of that place. Lastly, the metaphor includes an element of humor for the teller and the listener, using the amusing nature of the metaphor to help appease the weight of the oppressive heat.