"Thompson's investigative chops are impressive." — SIERRA MAGAZINE San Juan County, Utah, contains some of the most spectacular landscapes in the world , rich in natural wonders and Indigenous culture and history. But it's also long been plagued with racism, bitterness, and politics as twisted as the beckoning canyons. In 2017, en route to the Valley of the Gods with his spouse, a Colorado man closed the gate on a corral. Two weeks later, the couple was facing felony charges. Award–winning journalist Jonathan P. Thompson places the case in its fraught historical context and—alongside personal stories from a life shaped by slickrock and sagebrush—shows why this corner of the western United States has been at the center of the American public lands wars for over a century. “A highly readable account of the origins of the ‘Sagebrush Rebellion’ and its connections to the ongoing battle over Bears Ears National Monument as well as the Native American-led push for voting rights in the area. …It’s Thompson’s ability to capture some of that diversity that makes Sagebrush Empire a must-read for anyone who shares his love of the land and his fascination with San Juan County’s storied history.” — SALT LAKE TRIBUNE "Equal parts piercing investigative journalism and exquisite narrative, Sagebrush Empire delivers brilliant insight into the conflicting identity of the changing American West." — EVAN SCHERTZ, Maria's Bookshop “This book is as gritty as the Southwest itself. Readers will get a glimpse behind the glamour of redrock country, behind the vistas that take your breath away, and learn about the ongoing conflicts between the people who make this area their home. Thompson pulls you into a story that exposes some hard truths about the locals, politicians, and land laws of the West. In narrative style, with well-researched facts, this book reveals the depths to which people will go to protect the things they hold important.” —AMY MCCLELLAND, Bright Side Bookshop Praise for Jonathan P. Thompson: “Thompson’s investigative chops are impressive." — SIERRA MAGAZINE “Thompson weaves his skills of investigative journalism and factual verification with the empowering tools and devices of a novelist.” — THE UTAH REVIEW JONATHAN P. THOMPSON has been an environmental journalist focusing on the American West since he signed on as reporter and photographer at the Silverton Standard & the Miner newspaper in 1996. He has worked and written for High Country News for over a decade, and his work has appeared in numerous other outlets. He is the author of River of Lost Souls: The Science, Politics, and Greed behind the Gold King Mine Disaster. He and his wife, Wendy, and daughters Lydia and Elena split their time between Colorado and Bulgaria. Chapter One Gategate When you are in the Valley of the Gods, the name doesn't quite equate. The landscape in this part of southeastern Utah appears mostly flat, broken only by a few landforms sticking up in the distance, and bounded on one side by a band of cliffs made up of various hues of pink and beige. From the Valley the cliffs look unnaturally small, as do the landforms, perhaps an optical illusion resulting from the vastness of the flats and the sky. It is only when you are atop that band of cliffs, otherwise known as the south edge of Cedar Mesa, that you can really see the Valley of the Gods. The illusion from below is shattered, and the sheer scale of the Valley becomes clear, particularly on stormy days, when clouds rush across the sky like galleons atop a sea the color of dried blood, and light plays upon the Kodachrome serpent of earth and stone known, anticlimactically, as the Raplee Anticline. Rose Chilcoat and Mark Franklin were down in the Valley of the Gods in April 2017 when their lives took a surreal turn, as well, pulling them into an interminable legal quagmire that still hadn't ended three years later, in March 2020, when I sat down with them in their home in Durango to talk about it. Or, rather, we would talk around that fateful day, since they had yet to give depositions in the most recent phase of the legal tussle, and therefore couldn't talk about the case, itself. (Details about the case itself come from court documents and post–deposition interviews with Chilcoat and Franklin). Our interview took place in the early days of the coronavirus, when toilet paper and hand sanitizer were hard to find, but businesses were still open, no one was wearing a mask, and some folks still shook hands in greeting. We had no clue what was coming, or that had we waited another week, the in–person interview would have been relegated to our computer screens. As it was, when I entered their house they immediately scooted some hand–sanitizer in my direction and we awkwardly elbow–bumped rather than shake hands or hug. Rose was in a wheelchair, a crocheted blanket over her legs, thanks to a brutal ski accident, but her powerful presence was undimmed. Mark is shorter than R