For cold Arizona nights Goyathlay would wrap up in a fine woolen blanket woven by the near cousins of the Apache people the Dine', aka Navahos.I was a litle boy living in Scottsdale and one day we drove out into the desert past the Salt river looking at property. It was the year when many cattle died of a fast moving strain of Hoof and Mouth and we saw countless corpses along the road. My mother rolled up the windows and announced we would never buy land there. I think it's now covered by tract homes and malls. Our pink, hemi engined Chrysler station wagon suddenly overheated and we pulled into the shade of a green paloverde tree, shade being relative.My father found the fan belt had snapped and slowly poured water from the flaxen desert bag into the radiator.About that time a Apache indian cowboy rode up on a skewbald horse. I was quickly in deep theological turmoil about who's side he would be on playing cowboys and indians.He walked off the road and returned with long fibrous leaves to weave an expediant fanbelt. We drove @ 20 MPH to the nearest gas station and found they were sold out. My father wheeled the car north for Scottsdale and headed home. Some idiot blew past us in an Olds 88 rocket on a blind curve, and my father, an early exponent of roadrage punched the hemie. We blew past the Olds at a safe and sane 100 MPH past bloated cows, land I would never inherit and our cowboy waving his hat overhead and making his horse pop up. Next morning the garage had to buy a new hacksaw blade to get that cactus fanbelt off for a superior rubber one that would wear out soon enough in the desert heat. This started my long association with ethnobotony and knwing what people used before we dug up dead dinosaurs to run our cars and dress in.