7/24/12:
A damp morning on Roaring Forks Road.
I’d woken up earlier than usual; the stream beside my tent and the
dampness of the air were unusual sensations.
The sky had cleared somewhat, no worries there. I put on many more clothes than usual
(Trixy’s thermometer later told me it was 39 degrees) and began the morning
processes: breakfast, ablutions, qi gong, and packing. My tent was hopelessly wet, but I presumed it
would dry rapidly as I headed down and west into drier country.
Yes,
just short of Telluride I’d reached the north-easternmost corner of my trip;
now I had the better part of a week to return to California. Still many sites to visit.
But
first a gentle drive down a muddy road.
Plenty of traction; this route was well built, well drained. Left and west-southwest onto Route 145
towards Dolores. I had hopes of coffee,
but the town was still very quiet at 7:30 am.
Well, I was in the Paradox Basin: sediments shed off the Ancestral
Rockies.
My
first stop was the Anasazi Heritage Center in Dolores. This BLM facility is a museum, research
center, and the information source for Canyons of the Ancients National
Monument. Canyons of the Ancients
sounded pretty amazing; it has 6,000 known archeology sites, which seems at
best an estimate. Topographically this
density made sense: the Monument comprises most of a pair of large drainages
without extreme relief like at Navajo or Canyon de Chelly: probably plenty of
sites for living and farming.
The
Monument was largely inaccessible to Trixy.
Just as well: the great houses and other sites that had been excavated
for research purposes had been backfilled to preserve them. Little to see, I had read. I thus planned to skim the southern margin and
call it good, en route to Hovenweep National Monument: my real goal for the
morning.
Guidebooks
recommended the Center. I was digging
archeology enough to visit. I arrived at
8:15 am; the Center opened at 9. No
worries, I used Trixy as a platform to dry the various parts of my tent, and
sat in the shade (it was now 85 degrees) pondering my future route. Good to have a rare bit of time not in
motion.
The
parking lot gradually accumulated a variety of large American vehicles. Even though Dolores is within maybe 20 miles
of Mesa Verde National Park, it seemed to be off the main tourist route. That is, no Europeans appeared.
I
enjoyed the Center’s permanent exhibits immensely. Wall panels provided a good chronology
Puebloan and pre-Puebloan migrations and settlement. These were matched by artifact displays. Somehow, I’d missed or ignored these at
earlier stops. I was most impressed by a
deductive presentation addressing the wide range of pottery sizes found in the
ruins, such as cups that could hold a teaspoon to ones that would contain a
pint or more: all the same shape. The
best explanation, based on cultural analogy, was that the smaller pieces were
made by children: training for “adult” work.
A neat connection. The pottery designs
on Mesa Verde work fascinated me; the painted black geometries on white clay
were beautiful. If I had been in an
acquiring mode the museum store – good reproductions - would have been a threat. Another exhibit documented rescue excavations
near Dolores triggered by reservoir construction; a hard effort to survey ahead
of rising water. Hmm, I wonder if this
provided rationale and/or a dowry for the Center’s construction. No worries, it was a true asset to the
community.
The
route past Canyon of the Ancients led through Cortez. I needed ice, Trixy needed fuel. Cortez seemed big enough for coffee. Via my guidebook, I visited The Silver Bean,
an Airstream trailer converted into a coffee bar. Easy recognize by the white picket fence,
flamingos, and astroturf yard in front. A
good dark roast.
Two
towns were enough for one day. Thus,
further west on Montezuma County Road G and Indian Route 5068 towards
Hovenweep. Road G traced the floor of
McElmo Canyon, cutting downsection through Jurassic rocks: the Junction Creek
Sandstone and Morrison Formation. More
terrestrial muds and sands; elsewhere the Morrison is particularly known for
its abundance of dinosaur fossils. Saw a
few of those in Montana about thirty years ago. We called it “The Doors” Formation, which our
instructors did not understand.
McElmo
was not a deep canyon, but plenty of intermittent cliffs of aeolian sand gave a
sense of being enclosed. The drainage
was on the same scale as those in Canyons of the Ancients; there looked to be
enough relief to avoid summer heat, plenty of loose rock for building (and mud
for mortar), as well as flat land for agriculture.
Fun
driving, a windy and uncrowded road. Hmmm,
I intermittently heard a grinding noise coming from under Trixy. I stopped.
Nothing caught on any of the plastic or metal bits on her
underside. I revved the engine: no
correlation. I drove slowly: the noise
continued slowly, so it was something with the wheels. Stopped again; looked again. Nothing obviously caught. Well, I had not tried reversing. This produced an immediate clunk. Going forward again, the noise was
absent. That was too easy. In my relief I drove away without looking for
the whatever that was temporarily attached.
Hovenweep
National Monument: late morning, 96 degrees.
The weather forecast I had heard approaching Dolores promised a pair of
relatively monsoon-free days. This was
coming true. Hovenweep includes seven
isolated sites. The visitor-accessible
area was the largest: the Square Tower group, in the aptly named Little Ruin
Canyon. This small not too deep drainage
housed seven distinct ruins on its rim or within, constructed between the 10th
and 12th centuries. They were
clustered around the head of the Canyon; supposedly this reflected increasing
arid conditions leading up to the late 13th century
megadrought.
I
stopped at the VC, got good orientation from the ranger, and charged out to the
two mile loop trail around and through the Canyon. My first thought was: damn, it’s hot. I had plenty of water and sunscreen, so not a
problem. My second was: bugger, I wish I
were here at sunrise and sunset. It was
clear that the Ruin Canyon structures would have excellent light. Oh well, at least I had two hours. I wanted to get to Natural Bridges National
Monument for overnight.
 |
| Hovenweep National Monument, Utah: note the structures built into the large boulder on the right. |
Hike
and photograph, repeat until water depleted.
I meet a couple dozen other visitors on the trail; mostly families,
mostly Americans. Proportional to the
remoteness of the locality again, I supposed.
Like
McElmo on the morning drive, Little Ruin Canyon was relatively shallow: maybe 150
feet deep, cut into the Dakota Sandstone and the underlying Burro Canyon
Formation. The accessible ruins were
concentrated around a pair of tributaries near the head of the canyon. These included a check dam, so I bet that the
Dakota, being a porous sandstone, had a bunch of springs or seeps when the
Puebloans lived here.
 |
| Hovenweep National Monument, Utah, unnamed ruin near Tower Point |
The
trail guide did not quite correspond to the posted stops. This made me stop and actually look at the
Canyon. I also picked up the tip that
collapsed ruins could be spotted as piles and debris fields of book-sized platy
buildings stones. This was a “duh”
moment; as I looked around the drainage these clast concentrations were quite
obvious. Anomalous particles: the rest
of the sediment in the drainages was sand, mud, or house-sized boulders.
The
architecture and siting of these structures was different. The structures on the rim were multi-room
“houses” for lack of an accurate term, up to four stories high. Unlike the one large structure at Betatakin
or Aztec Ruins, here several isolated houses dotted the rim. At least one of these shows evidence of
astronomical alignment. That was cool
enough, but then there were the structures below the within the canyon. At Betatakin and Canyon de Chelly, the
builders had adapted their work to the irregular shape of the alcoves where
they worked. Here, this approach was
taken to an extreme. Structures perched
on top of large rocks, and were built around and into the crevices between
them. One structure stood by itself: a
multi-story tower with a pinnacle-like aspect ratio. Although square –sided, the walls gradually
spiraled with height. Crazy. I made well over 100 photographs, again ruing
the high sun. Well, it was a challenge
to work with.
Back
to the VC and a few minutes of cooling my core temperature. I had a question for the ranger: the brochure
and stops featured the same motif, a bird, which I assumed was something local
like a raven: was I right? Not even
close: the motif is interpreted as a macaw, based on feather and bones found
here and at other sites. Someone kept
birds here. Wow, more evidence of trade
and travel: like cocoa, macaws are from well south of the current border. The ranger clearly enjoyed surprising people
with this information. I would too.
Lunch
on a picnic table, then to the road.
Trixy was noiseless. I tried to
wrap my brain around the Hovenweep site.
The small portion I saw just felt different. While some of this was the geography and
geology, but the abundance and spacing of such small complex structures did not
seem like the usual habitation. Moreover,
the rim structures were visible from a distance; all the other ruins I’d seen
were concealed. I’d need to do more
reading before more speculation, lacking adequate understanding of Hovenweep’s
place in Puebloan time and space.
Trixy
and I jogged west on Routes 401, 461, 5099, 414, and 262. A final transect of the Navajo Reservation,
past Hatch Trading Post. There were
quite a number of such attractions, holdovers from the initial American
conquest, which seem to serve as a mix of tourist attraction and actual
store. Not being in search of curios of
any quality, I did not stop at any.
North
on Route 163 to Blanding: my first Mormon town on this trip, manifest in the
number of solid brick structures, the expected temple with six steeples and the
extremely wide streets. Residential
roads were easily four lanes wide.
Another fluids stop, then west on Route 95 to Natural Bridges.
If
you have read The Monkey Wrench Gang,
Route 95 should sound familiar. It
crosses Comb Wash and Comb Ridge, a lovely monocline in the Navajo Sandstone,
which was the site of destruction of lot of road construction equipment. I felt both interested and guilty driving the
route, which did pierce through beautiful and otherwise desolate country. A faster way to across the upper end of Lake
Powell was needed, I assume.
Route
95 also passed near a number of Puebloan ruins.
I don't know the overall density of sites here, but the topographic
relief was similar to Hovenweep; maybe this was a factor. I wasn't hot enough, so I stopped at Butler
Wash Ruins. A 101 degree hike over
sandstone slickrock: no worries, at least it was light colored. Butler Wash is a 12th century
site, in an alcove setting similar to Betatakin, but a lot smaller as visible
from the overlook. The Navajo Sandstone
created deeper canyons with steeper rims than at Hovenweep. Several kivas and storage rooms tucked into
an area well above the drainage floor. A
seep dripped directly down into the Ruin, and another was near the viewing
area. If the hydrology was similar when
Butler Wash was occupied, there would have been abundant water. I swatted mosquitoes and tried to capture
images of the slickrock. Hard in mid
afternoon.
 |
| Butler Wash Ruins, Utah: note seep above structures. |
 |
| Butler Wash area: stream in Navajo Sandstone slickrock. |
Butler
Wash Ruins was my last Puebloan stop.
Investigating these sites and their history added an unplanned dimension
to my trip, which I enjoyed. I moved too
fast to build a coherent archeological space/time map; I was content to absorb
the bits of information that washed over me.
I've thus tried to limit my observations in these posts to what I could
see directly, learn from park rangers and interpretation, and infer from
them. Hopefully I don't sound like I know
what I am talking about - yet.
I
pulled into Natural Bridges by 3:30. It
was 98 degrees. I had worried a bit that
its small campground would be full, as I was getting back onto the main
attractions of the Colorado Plateau route.
I drove the camping. Bugger,
pretty populated, but a decent spot near the entrance with only one neighbor
through the trees. No one was around. I parked Trixy for a 15 hour rest, set up my
tent, and took a nap.
I
woke up in a pool of sweat on my Thermarest; noise outside. My neighbors were back. A family with several rambunctious children
across the way; I was never sure how many.
A couple of college students next door; they seemed quiet and much more
interested in each other than anything else.
An RV shoehorned into the space across the road: English accents from
within. The rent-an-RV approach seems
popular with foreign visitors; I passed such vehicles of all sizes on this
trip, rented by domestic outfits that I’d never heard of before. Seems practical, but not speedy.
Downtime:
I sorted gear, rehydrated, backed up photographs, read up on upcoming travel,
ate dinner, and tried to pretend I was alone.
This was my first night near people on the trip; a necessary choice as
it had water and wasn’t reservation land.
No complaints, just adjustment. I
anticipated a similar setting the next night in Capitol Reef National
Park.
Sunset,
finally cooler. The monument map
suggested that the three bridges accessible from the loop road: Sipapu,
Kachina, and Owachomo, would be more photogenic in the morning. I didn’t need an excuse to relax. I lolled.
The big family across the way trooped off. I assumed they were going to a ranger
program, but then noticed that all were carrying towels and toothbrushes. I guess that running water in the VC
bathrooms was worth a mile walk.
7/25/12:
6 am. The campground was dead
quiet. I’d woken up early, not the first
occurrence. Well, time to go for a
run. The Monument is at ~6,500 feet; I
wanted to do at least four miles. Best
option: go out the loop road. A lovely
run; I made it as far as Sipapu Bridge and its overlooks, and resisted the
temptation to circuit. I was quite
distracted by the slickrock exposures of Cedar Mesa Sandstone (Permian, I was
going down section); amazed that yet more aeolian deposits weren’t getting
boring. I didn’t bring fluids, and it
was getting warm. I returned via the VC,
startling the maintenance crew when I ran into the bathroom for a rinse.
The
campground was beginning to wake. The small
children were up, poking their father (?) where he slept alone in a
hammock. Breakfast and off to see the bridges
of Natural Bridges. I was happy to get
out early, before the expected heat, while the sights were empty.
Trixy
and I retraced my run to Sipapu Bridge.
While eating breakfast, I’d watched an RV lumber out of the campground,
thinking, they must have a ways to go today.
Wrong: I came across the RV at the first scenic pullout: a German
family. They were having what was clearly
a very proper breakfast - tablecloth, china, flowers on the table, etc - in the
parking lot next to their RV. Goodonem. While this seemed stereotypically Teutonic,
what bemused me was the location. The
parking lot had no view other than the road.
I would have made a bowl of fruit, yogurt, granola and supplements and
had contemplation at the Bridge while I ate.
I
took a healthy look at each bridge. They
were very large and robust structures, but in the morning light, they
underwhelmed. Sipapu and Kachina were shadowed. Hard for photography, and this uninspired me
to make the short access trails to get under them. But it was also appearance. The Cedar Mesa Sandstone is essentially
flat-lying; the bridges thus have very linear tops, which did not stand out
against the surrounding sedimentary layers.
 |
| Sipapu Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah |
 |
| Kachina Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah |
That
said, the abundance of bridges in such small area is remarkable. The park interpretation gave an explanation
of bridge formation, related to the various streams in the White Canyon
drainage system cutting tight meander beds and then piercing the resulting
goosenecks to form the bridges. This is
basic but old school geomorphology. I
assume the particular lithology of the Cedar Mesa and landslides were also
important. I also wondered if there was
a newer explanation that particularly explained why the streams cut so quickly
through the rock. A rapid phase of
vertical erosion must have been necessary to get the relief needed to make
bridges. Something else to research;
likely tied to the most recent uplift of the Colorado Plateau.
 |
| Owachomo Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah |
 |
| Sun behind Owachomo Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah |
 |
| Flakes of Cedar Mesa Sandstone, near Owachomo Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah |
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