The Spirit of Edward Abbey Returns to Navajo National Monument - 2008

The Spirit of Edward Abbey Returns to Navajo National Monument

On June 1, 2008, I decamped from the idyllic Navajo National Monument in Northeast Arizona and headed for Simi Valley, California.  Before leaving the monument, I reflected on Edward Abbey’s words in his classic book about Arches National Monument, Desert Solitaire, first published in 1968. At the time, Abbey decried what he saw as the destruction of primitive areas throughout the Southwest, as many of them opened to automobile tourism. Here are his words:

"Navajo National Monument. A small, fragile, hidden place containing two of the most beautiful cliff dwellings in the Southwest – Keet Seel and Betatakin. This park will be difficult to protect under heavy visitation, and for years it was understood that it would be preserved in a primitive way so as to screen out those tourists unwilling to drive their cars over some twenty miles of dirt road. No longer so: the road has been paved, the campground enlarged and modernized and the old magic destroyed."

Times change, people change, but upon his death in 1989 at the age of 62, Abbey’s consciousness on earth evolved no more. Abbey was primarily a naturalist, with a gift for description of our North American deserts and woodlands. Secondarily, as an anarchist and anarcho-communist, he waxed poetic on fighting the federal government, as exemplified by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), The National Park Service (NPS) and the Department of Interior (DOI) in general. Although his greatest anarchistic act up to that point was to pull up some road survey stakes at Arches National Park in Utah, Abbey often gets credit as the inspiration for such troglodytic and destructive groups as the Earth Liberation Front (ELF).

The dominant energies of the 1960s coalesced around protest, as exemplified by the movement against the Vietnam War and the "tree-spikers" in the Northern California Redwoods. It was an age of "pushing against", whose legacy haunts us still. Self-righteous and well-meaning protesters may burn an animal science laboratory only to find that that they burned the wrong laboratory. Extreme "Right to Lifers" see no irony in their active support for a "Death Penalty".   

I sat quietly that morning in the campground that Abbey saw as a modern abomination and opened up a channel to his non-physical consciousness. Feeling that he was stuck in a near-Earth realm by the angst and anger he still felt at the time of his death, I asked him to accompany me in a tour of the area. Although there was no verbal or visible communication between us, I allowed him to see the place as I saw and loved it.

Bypassing the small visitors’ center, we walked along the crudely paved pathway towards the Betatakin (ledge house) Ruin, less than a mile away. In a desire to protect these fragile cliff dwellings, the NPS placed its only Betatakin viewpoint several hundred yards away on the opposite side of the canyon. Signs admonish visitors not to make loud noises, as Betatakin’s natural amphitheater amplifies sound waves. The loud voice of a careless visitor could weaken or destroy parts of the well-preserved pre-Puebloan settlement.

Navajo National Monument is a misnomer, honoring the fact that early non-natives who studied it associated its ruins with the Navajo Nation, within which its boundaries lie. There are, however, no Navajo ruins at Navajo National Monument. Craig Childs, in his book House of Rain identifies the early occupants as the "Kayenta Anasazi". Abandoned as these sites were, around 1300 CE, after as little as fifty years of occupation, Betatakin and Keet Seel rank with Mesa Verde and Hovenweep as last redoubts of a vanishing culture. The spring-fed relict forests in the monument’s canyons attest to the general drying of a once abundant environment, thus contributing to the brevity of human occupation in the area.

Returning on foot to what Abbey denigrated as a modern campground, we found its thirty spaces nicely sited on a 7300 ft. elevation mesa that offers spectacular sunset views. The spaces accommodate trailers of up to thirty feet, but the larger fifth-wheel and Class-A RVs must go elsewhere. There was water available, but no store, showers or sanitary dump. Having lived in a trailer home less than thirty feet in length for his two summer seasons in Arches National Park, I smiled at the thought that Abbey might wish to deny others a brief but similar pleasure in this beautiful place.

As I drove away from the campground, I reflected on the term "arrested decay", first coined to describe the preservation activities at Bodie, a ghost town in the high desert of California. The NPS has arrested the decay of the ruins at Navajo National Monument largely by limiting direct access to the sites. From the visitors’ center to the roads, trails and campgrounds at Navajo National Monument, the NPS seems to have listened to Edward Abbey’s ghost. Once established in the 1960s, these improvements have changed little, if at all in the past forty years.

I find myself in agreement with Abbey on one thing. Despite its supposed ruination in his time, as I departed I secretly hoped that this serene and beautiful place would enjoy its current state of arrested decay long into the future.

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By James McGillis at 04:51 PM | Environment | Comments (0) | Link

Chaco Canyon 2008 - Camping at a Place of Sand and Rain

On Wednesday, May 21, 2008, I hooked up my travel trailer and drove from Homolovi Ruins near Winslow, Arizona to Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, via Interstate I-40 and Gallup, New Mexico.  During my transit, a cold front swept over the High Southwest deserts of Arizona and New Mexico, providing a forty mile per hour tailwind to my highway travels.  Although I ate dust and sand every time I got out of my truck, the good news was that I got excellent gas mileage.  As I approached my destination, the temperature dropped from 100 degrees f. to 65 degrees f.

 

Chaco Culture National Historical Park, my destination, is located over thirty miles off the nearest paved highway, regardless of which road you travel to get there.  If you are seeking an “off the grid” experience, with no mobile telephone, broadcast TV or electrical services, Chaco might be the place for you.  Gallup, New Mexico is the nearest city, almost 60 miles to the south, so the night sky is as dark as what I experienced camping at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

 

Besides the allure of peace, quiet and solitude away from our over-amped contemporary culture, Chaco Canyon, lies at the nexus of an ancient and long vanished Pre-Puebloan culture, popularly known as the Anasazi.

 

Having visited Chaco Canyon the previous autumn, I wanted to see and experience its stark beauty again, this time in the spring.

 

Winter and summer are the long seasons in the high deserts of New Mexico, with spring and fall often last only a few weeks.  As I blew in to Chaco, along with the dust of a desert sandstorm, spring appeared to be over. Shriveled spring flowers along the roadside foretold of the coming dry season.  Or so I thought at the time. Before I could set up camp, the weather had changed to colder and wetter.

 

From the west and south, clouds quickly began to build.  Soon I saw virga, hanging like a veil in the sky, with rain clouds following not far behind.  By the time I unhooked, leveled and secured my coach, the rains started in earnest. The sound of rain on the roof of my coach did not let up that evening, and lasting well into the night. If you plan to camp at Chaco Canyon, be sure to add good rain gear to your list. 

 

As I made my way to the visitors’ center the next morning, it was a cold and breezy 43f degrees. After paying my user fees, I sought a recommendation for a short hike. I did not wear foul weather gear, so in the event of a downpour, I wanted easy access to my truck. The friendly volunteer in the old visitors center suggested the Una Vida ruins hike. Its trail started from the parking lot where my truck already stood. 

 

Taking the volunteer's advice, I shared the short path to the ruins with a friendly couple, but saw no one else in the area until my return, an hour later.  Looking back down from above, a north-facing masonry wall at Una Vida intrigued me.  It appeared to have a face on it, as created by its symmetrical windows and door.  To me, it looked like the face of the world's largest Hopi Indian kachina (or katsina) doll.

 

Above the Una Vida ruin (Una Vida means “one life” in Spanish), sheltered by a stone overhang, was a collection of well-preserved Indian petroglyphs.  They stood out well for my camera in the morning light.  Similar enigmatic rock etchings abound throughout the High Southwest.  Because of their protected location, few acts of defacement or vandalism were evident here.

 

Upon returning to  my campsite, I walked among the ruins of an ancient farmhouse, which lay beneath the overhang of a cliff, less than fifty yards away.  Simply by readjusting my gaze to look for telltale signs, there too, I found ancient Indian rock art.

 

To my surprise, I came upon what appeared to be a face staring out at me from the canyon wall. This little character had sorrowful, yet knowing eyes. Splashed with ancient red ochre, Cracks and crevices above and around his eyes evidenced a large cranium made no sound and never moved.  Still, his eyes followed me wherever I moved throughout his rocky domain.

 

Having traveled as much as I have in the southwestern US, I have learned to keep an eye out for the spirits that dwell in these canyons.  Like the Egyptian carvings of the Pharaonic Period, were these silent sentinels formerly human? Or are they representations of non-physical spirits trying desperately to gain the attention of those humans who pass by their yearning, yet immobile countenances? 

 

Such is this place, Chaco Canyon, where people are rare, ancestral Puebloan spirits abound and history lays enigmatically all around, even within the public campground.

 

From Chaco Canyon to Moab, Utah would entail two hundred sixty-one miles of driving, and it was time to go.

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By James McGillis at 01:31 PM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link

 

Chaco Canyon, New Mexico Memories 2007

After two days “off the grid” at Chaco Culture National Historical Park, I reemerged into my normal “wired” lifestyle. As of this writing, I am in Taos, New Mexico, where I will attend the Quantum Leap Celebration. The Celebration starts later today and will extend across the next two days.

 

If you visit Chaco Canyon, you will find its geographical features as interesting as its ancient culture. The Pre-Puebloan “Chaco Culture” is on of the great mysteries of the past millennium. In the high and dry Canyonlands of Northwestern New Mexico, native cultures rose and fell between 600 CE and 1250 CE. During that time, the populous built masonry buildings of great elegance and unique architectural style. 

 

These “great houses” or “great kivas” flourished throughout the Four Corners area (Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah). Then, in the thirteenth century AD, the high culture of Chaco disbanded, with evidence of deconstruction and destruction by the Anasazi, who originally built these huge structures.  As they disbanded, possibly heading south to greener valleys, their Great Disappearance became one of the enduring mysteries of humankind. When they were done with Chaco Canyon, the ancients set fire to many roof timbers and toppled many walls. It was as if they did not want anyone, including themselves to settle again in that place.

 

Everyone loves a mystery. Why else would people flock to this desolate and long-deserted place? We all want to know who they were, what they were doing here and where they went. To learn more about this now vanished culture, I suggest reading “ House of Rain: Tracking a Vanished Civilization Across the American Southwest”, by author Craig Childs. With scholarly detail and down-home story telling, Craig brings ancient sandstone haunts back to life.

 

While in Chaco, I sought out the least-visited great house, known as Kin Klizhin, which is nine miles out a 4-wheel-drive road. On the road, the only living things I saw were birds and a herd of elk. When I arrived at the Kin Klizhin Ruin, the visitors’ register indicated that I was the first person to visit there in the past six days. With no mobile telephone, no radio and no sounds other than the wind, I spent a couple of peaceful hours there.  Occasionally, I ducked behind ruined walls, seeking shade from the hot afternoon sun.

 

Sometimes, our lives feel overfilled with actions and activities. Although there is apparent loneliness to places like Kin Klizhin, I found it ironic that it was once a “welcoming center” for the Chaco Canyon Culture. For the fast-walking Pre-Puebloans, Kin Klizhin was less than one day away from the combination Mecca, Las Vegas, World’s Fair, Vatican, Angkor Watt, Taj Mahal, which we now call Chaco Canyon.

 

Why did they come to Chaco Canyon? Why did they leave? These questions are simple, but definitive answers continue to elude us. From my perspective, I believe that a unique, but inexplicable group consciousness arose then in the Four Corners, centering itself in Chaco Canyon. With its celestial aspects, geographical features and ancient cultural alignments, we look forward to our next visit.

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Flame-Out in Phoenix, Arizona 2007

Thursday was my day for both old and new energies. After a morning appointment in Phoenix, I returned to my coach in Black Canyon City, ready to move on... or so I thought.

The predicted high temperature in Phoenix that day was 109 degrees, so I had left the air-conditioning in my coach set at 80 degrees. Upon my return, I sat comfortably in my coach. As the day progressed, the temperatures outside were rising, thus putting greater strain on my A/C.

Around Noon, my A/C faltered briefly, but I was obliviously unconcerned. Ten minutes later, the machine seized, causing a flash fire in the controller box above my head. After flipping off the circuit breaker, I could still hear crackling sounds for another thirty seconds. Then smoke poured out of one of the A/C vents. “Not good”, I said to myself. Since it was time to get out of Phoenix anyway, I called ahead to the RV repair shop in Flagstaff and arranged for a diagnosis of my problem later that day.

When I arrived at Flagstaff, the elevation of 7000 feet made for a pleasant 82-degree air temperature. The friendly staff at the RV repair facility quickly diagnosed my problem. “Catastrophic meltdown of the controller box”, caused by an unknown failure in the A/C unit was the story. “We have a new one in stock and can install it this afternoon for $825”, the service manager said. “Let’s do it”, I said.

While waiting for the installation, I spent an hour with a pleasant British couple who were waiting for a toilet-repair on their rented Cruise America RV. They were plying their way across America on Old Route 66, wherever they could find it. Among other things I learned, gasoline in Great Britain is the equivalent of $20 per gallon and that in the south of England, you cannot water your yard with a garden hose.

By seven PM, I was ready to start out on the 177-mile trip east on I-40, to Gallup, New Mexico. Arriving at the USA RV Park here at 10:45 PM MDT, the owner had graciously waited for me in the office until I appeared.

If we represent Old Energy through fossil fuels, central air-conditioning, mobile telephones and plug-in electrical, Thursday was my Old Energy day. The only New Energy I could find was in the help that people provided me, good company as I waited for my coach and acceptance of that which I could not change.

At noon today, I will start out for Chaco Culture National Historical Park (www.nps.gov/chcu/), in Northwestern New Mexico. If Phoenix, Flagstaff and Gallup are Old Energy, “on the grid” cities, Chaco Canyon is a New Energy, “off the grid” place. For the next two days and nights, I will be where no mobile telephone or wireless internet connection dares to go. I will be visiting ruins of “pre-Puebloan”, “Anasazi” or “pre-Columbian” cultures, depending on which description you might like to use. From 600 AD through 1200 AD, Chaco Canyon was the premier human cultural center in Western North America.

Tonight, one hundred miles form the nearest large city, I will stargaze with the “local” telescopic community on a near-moonless night. After two nights in Chaco Canyon, I will “emerge” from the land of ancient cultures and make my way to Taos, New Mexico on Sunday, September 16. Until then, please accept my offering of Happy New Energy to you.

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