The Trading Post and Art Gallery at Cow Springs, Arizona Return to Their Sandstone Origins
After witnessing the disappearance of Black Mesa Mine,
I wondered what else might be fading away within sacred Navajo and
Hopi lands. Thirty miles south of Black Mesa, for almost a century, Cow Springs Trading Post
survived and prospered. The documented history of Cow Springs is
spotty, at best. Most references to the place are in footnotes or old
field-notes. Around 1970, when the last Cow Springs Trading Post closed,
the place began its slow-motion disappearance.
In
1983, U.S. Geological Survey Bulletin 27 stated, “The unusual light
gray Entrada Sandstone in the area was named Cow Springs Sandstone by
Harshbarger and others in 1951. They described it as, “a
cross-stratified bleached sandstone that lies between the Entrada
Sandstone and Dakota Formation”. It is entirely older than the Morrison
Formation and the Romana Sandstone, found elsewhere in the Colorado Plateau.”
The Cow Springs sandstone occupies a considerable interval in the Jurassic Stratigraphic Period. The Jurassic period existed long before the Tertiary Stratigraphic Period,
when most of earth’s coal deposits appeared. At more than 150 million
years in age, Cow Springs occupies an ancient place in geologic history.
The earliest historical mention of Cow Springs involves the Spaniard, Vizcarra, during his 1823 campaign. In an obvious reference to the nearby Elephant's Feet pillars, Vizcarra and his compatriots named Cow Springs Wash "El Arroyo de los Pilares".
For almost one hundred fifty years after Vizcarra's visit, Cow Springs
disappeared from historical consciousness. Decades later, perhaps in
the early twentieth century, someone again documented the existence of
the place. “East of the sandhills, bordering Red Valley runs Cow Springs Canyon and Wash. Up this canyon from the springs, George McAdams set up a summer and fall trading camp 1882”.
During a brief period when Indian trader J. L. Hubbell Jr. owned it in the 1930s,
Joe Isaac managed the Cow Springs Trading Post. Son of Joe Isaac,
Lawrence Isaac Sr., ran the coalmine at Cow Springs from the 1930s
until the 1950s. According to Geological Survey Professional Paper, Volume 521,
the mine operated on coal-rich Black Mesa, seven miles east of Cow
Springs. By the 1970s, coal extraction attributed to the old Peabody Western Coal Company would come to dominate the economies of both the Navajo and the Hopi tribes.
In 1889, David, George, William, Charles, and Edward Babbitt established the Babbitt Brothers Trading Company
in Flagstaff, Arizona. Later, they owned a series of trading posts and
other businesses in the northern part of the state. Babbitt's
Wholesale, Inc. and the Babbitt family have been distributors of
Pendleton blankets and accessories across the Southwest for more than
one hundred twenty years. Some of the best-known Babbitt posts were
located at Tuba City, Willow Springs, Canyon Diablo, Cedar Ridge,
Tolchaco, Indian Wells and the ancient town of Oraibi.
Notably absent from that list is the Cow Springs Trading Post, first operated by the Babbitt's in 1895. “So by the time I became involved in our trading operations,
it was already becoming a dying part of our family’s business. From
the time I started in the business, we had five trading posts. Today,
1999, we are down to only two—Tuba City and Red Lake. We closed down
Cedar Ridge Trading Post, we closed down Cow Springs Trading Post” -
Jim Babbitt, Babbitt Brothers Trading Co. oral history.
On August 14, 1938, there were recorded bird sightings at “Cow Springs Lake”,
which was not far from a similar sighting at Red Lake (now Tonalea,
elevation 5010) in Coconino County, Arizona. Red Lake was another old
trading post site, just south of the Elephant's Feet pillars on U.S.
Highway 160. At that site today, there is a general store, which
provides Pepsi and hay bales to local residents. Today, there is no
flowing water at Cow Springs, nor is there much of a lake at Red Lake.
Only a seasonal pond, which stands south of the highway at Tonalea,
hints at Red Lake's historical status as a year-around lake. With the
long-term drying of the local climate, Red Lake disappears into a dusty
plain. Now, Cow Springs Lake faces the prospect of a similar fate.
At the crossroads of Begashibito (Béégashi Bito'), or Cow Springs, and the old road to Shonto, is the possible location for "Luke Smith's store". Even in the early
days, traders looked to create catchy names for their trading posts.
Begashibito plus Shonto morphed into the new Navajo word. In a larger
version of the circa 1929 image (above right) on this page,
“Begashonto” appears on the sign in front of the store.
In the early 1960s, highway engineers realigned old Arizona 264. The new U.S. Highway 160
bypassed the tiny hamlet of Cow Springs, thus forcing relocation of
the old Cow Springs Trading Post. Even with its prominent new location
on a busier highway, the trading post did not survive for long. Today, a
pole-sign, some graffiti covered walls and a stone-topped chimney are
all that remain. With its business lifespan cut short, there are no
published pictures of the Highway 160 Cow Springs Trading Post while in
operation.
With its imposing pole sign declaring “Standard Oil Products”, the ruin helps break the monotony along that stretch of highway. In
2009, I stopped at the Cow Springs Trading Post. Until they changed
corporate colors in the 1960s, the old Standard Oil Company of
California utilized white lettering on a brown background for signage
on their west coast service stations. After decades exposed to sun,
rain and wind, large portions of brown and white paint now fly away.
Like the stratification record for the Cow Springs Sandstone, layers of
paint intermingle as they erode through paint and primer. Completing a cycle, in 2013 the original words “Cow” and “Post” reasserted themselves at either end of the sign.
In the 1960s, improved highways and reliable automobiles meant that motorists
had greater range and options. With its unusual name and remote
location, tourists often bypassed places like Cow Canyon Trading Post.
They might, however be attracted to an iconic brand name, like
“Standard Oil Products”, thus stopping there for fuel and provisions.
Even today, the size, height and immensity of the Cow Springs sign
create an imposing sight. Only the height of its steel poles has
prevented untold repainting with graffiti art.
At various times over the years, I have stopped to investigate the
ruins of Cow Springs Trading Post. By the time I first stopped in 2007,
there was no roof and various partition walls were missing. There were
no signs of a fire, so someone may have removed
and repurposed the roof beams elsewhere. Also absent was almost any form
of scrap lumber. Known for its cold winter nights, local residents may have collected and burned any scraps of wood remaining at Cow Springs.
Despite the derelict nature of the building, a spray painted
combination of angst-ridden poetry and high art filled various panels.
With each subsequent visit, more holes appeared in the walls.
Successively, additional hits of graffiti obscured or defaced many of
the more artistic panels. Additional sections of block wall tumbled,
some with their artwork still intact. In one case, wall art became
floor art.
In order to topple walls or make new holes, ad hoc wrecking crews
employed sledgehammers. With less space to express new poetry and art,
the hope and pride expressed in the early artwork later turned taciturn
and reticent. Visionary sights
of a Navajo warrior and a Golden Eagle disappeared under gang-style
monikers and random bursts of paint. In a stroke of spontaneous irony, a
spray-paint cartoonist used several of the holes to elucidate facial
features in his characters. Dystopian anger at the human condition ran
through several muddled poems.
Just when artistic expression at Cow Springs reached an all-time low, a
new artist with a new medium arrived on the scene. Almost overnight, he
covered several walls with his wheat-paste photo murals. Hailing from
Inscription House, elsewhere on the Navajo Reservation, that artist
goes by the name of Jetsonorama.
He selects photos from his collection, enlarges them at a print shop,
and then cuts them out on his kitchen floor. Utilizing wheat paste - a
mixture of Bluebird flour (favored by Navajo
grandmas), sugar and water - he attaches them, pane by pane, to places
like the Cow Springs Trading Post. His photo murals echo life on the
land, almost as fleeting in the wind and weather as the moments
captured in the photos themselves.
Although not a Native American, Jetsonorama is the only permanent
physician at an Indian Health Service's clinic. In his blog and
elsewhere Jetsonorama said,
“I’m trying to present especially positive images of the Navajo on the
reservation - to inject an element of beauty, an element of surprise
and an element, hopefully, of pride." From the first moment I saw
Jetsonorama’s Cow Springs work, it inspired me. His photo murals can
be vibrant on one visit and completely gone on the next. In July 2013,
when I last visited Cow Springs, not a trace of Jetsonorama’s original
work had survived.
Although I have no problem visiting the ruins of Cow Springs Trading
Post during the day, I would not stop at night. Apparently, a few
latter-day graffiti artists still frequent the place, along with the
ad hoc wrecking crews. Recent poetic evidence tells me that Cow Springs
is now a hangout for the “down and out” or disaffected. Once, Cow
Springs supported vibrant trade. Later, it supported highway art. With
one wall after another now falling to ruin, soon the site shall support
nothing more than spirits and pre-ancestral memories.
By James McGillis at 03:47 PM | Environment | Comments (0) | Link
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