Saturday, September 11, 2010

Day two (and three and four), Navajo Country


We started across Utah, towards Page Arizona… where we found the Glen Canyon Dam a bridge across the Colorado River, and a Safeway… We walked around the dam visitor center, walked onto the bridge, bought a couple of books, then headed into town…


Apparently the biggest business in Page is storing boats… lots of boats, boats to be used on Lake Powell…


We stopped at the Safeway, a strangely normal Safeway, if all the employees at your local Safeway were Navajos, and all the customers German Tourists… It was especially interesting to watch them decide how big a bottle of Jack Daniels was big enough.… We bought a block of ice and some beer… we are after all, men.


We headed out of town on a reservation (Navajo Reservation) road… past the Navajo Power plant… a huge coal fired power plant, supplying power to much of the arid west. We noticed a large number of whiskey bottles by the side of the road, strange as alcohol is banded on the Rez.


We reached the Navajo National Monument, our goal about 1:00, or maybe 2:00, we are not sure… Utah and Arizona is on Mt time… but Arizona doesn’t recognize daylight savings time… so far part of the year California and Arizona are on the same time, but Utah does so is till an hour different, but the Navaho , located in Arizona does recognize daylight savings time… I am confused…


We arrived… they don’t charge admission at Navajo National monument… we found a camp site… they don’t charge for camping either… They don’t allow fires, but at least its free…


We set up camp, we took a hike, we checked in at the visitor center and were oriented for the hike tomorrow… The park is overrun by German tourists driving rental motor homes… We suspect they have large bottles of Jack Daniels concealed inside.


We cooked dinner… The campground doesn’t allow camp fires but it does allow charcoal fires… I built a fire, we each had a beer… I cooked potatoes in the dutch oven, then grilled steaks… we opened a bottle of wine with dinner… we cleaned up and went to bed.


The next morning, (now Friday, Sept 10th) we cooked breakfast… biscuits in the dutch oven, bacon on the gas stove… then hit the trail for Keet Seel… we were a bit later than suggested, about 9:15 or so… the trail started with a slow drop on a paved road to a lower parking lot, then a steeper drop on a paved road to a red gate… then a steeper drop down trails, switch backs, steps made of wooden timbers, steps cut into rock, more switch backs… then a steep sandy drop as we approached the river…


We passed one hiker on the trail… he caught up to us at the bottom as we stashed extra water for the climb out, and changed into other clothing… we descended the last short drop off to find a group of Navajo cow boys with a small herd of cows… our fellow hiker was headed up stream, the wrong direction… he claimed the Navajos had told him that was the way… We could see the white posts headed the other way… our fellow hiker was quite disagreeable… We headed down stream to the next canyon, and out route upstream to the ruins. We were traveling a bit over 3 miles an hour.


The hike follows the river bottom… its sandy, muddy, and rocky, sometimes at the same time… there was quick sand… not much but it was there, and including it adds a bit of danger to the description of the adventure. We forded the river constantly… We tried to keep our boots dry… mostly we succeeded.


About 5 miles in we reached the water fall… a really nice 30’ tall water fall… we climbed to the top… we continued up the river bed, now fording the river more often… and getting our boots wet… At 8.5 miles we reached the camp ground. The last 2 miles took a full hour.


We continued another half mile or so to the ranger station… Patrick the ranger had seen us walking up and was ready. He asked about any other hikers… we only knew of Mr. Disagreeable… Patrick decided to tour the ruin rather than waiting for him.


We stored our packs in the squirrel locker, grabbed water bottles and headed for the ruin… Upon seeing the site for the first time Richard said, “Oh, Wow.” Patrick said “that’s what I said my first visit.” The site is deceptive. It is a large ruin in a much larger cliff alcove, so it seems smaller at first. We approached from the left, then climbed a 70’ tall ladder up, into the site… There were pot shards everywhere… so many that they seemed planted rather than real scatter. Up in the ruin we looked into buildings, and found more potshards at our feet.


The conversations with Patrick were wonderful. He is Hopi, and the Hopi claim a connection to the site, with three Hopi clans once having occupied it, 700 years ago. His story was the story of the Hopi, and how this and other sites are part of their origin story. He told it with a clarity that was amazing. There were parts of the story he couldn’t and wouldn’t tell… His clan was not one of the clans that claim a connection with this site, and he can’t discuss their stories, for they own them. He could talk about other area tribes, and how their stories. It was the most personally honest interpretation of an Anasazi site than I have heard. We saw petroglyphs, that he didn’t point out… we suspect that they had clan significance, and were therefore not a subject for a Hopi to share with an outsider, but he did point out hand prints, possibly less religious, and more personal. He showed us turkey feather wrapped twine… binding roof beams… an arrow head, tiny, perfect except for the broken tip. We spent a full hour and a half in the ruin, mostly in awe.


Other hikers appeared at the bottom, including Mr. Disagreeable… Two were spending the night… Mr. D was a day hiker like us, and was facing a long hike back… He was difficult, full on complaints… We offered to show him the storage locker… He complained to us that he would be hiking back in the dark…


We changed from boots to sandals for the hike back (we both agree the best decision we would make on the hike) and started off… we were just passing the ranger station when Patrick caught up and told us Mr. D was claiming to have injured himself, and was demanding a ride back.


We left on our return trip, wondering if our favorite hiker would get his way…


On the way down we tried a different route to the water fall… it was higher on the canyon wall in the trees… It is the recommended route in high water or when flash floods threaten… but it has been badly cut by streams crossing it, and the route was a mistake… not a bad mistake, but not the best route.


We regained the river bed at the water fall, and a few minutes later met a white Park Service truck, looking for our best friend. They asked us if we knew where he was. We told them likely an hour behind us. Richard told them he was a “whiner” (we later found out that until they met him in person they thought we meant “wino,” but after meeting him came to understand the true nature of Mr. D’s personality)


As we trudged back down stream, we tried to calculate where we would meet the truck again…


The trip down was slower… we were tired, but having a good time… The truck reappeared about 3 miles down stream. The rangers asked how we were doing, offering a ride, but we had equipment and clothing stashed off their route, so we continued downstream, wondering how Mr. D, aka “the whiner” would be received when he reached the park headquarters…


The trip of the switchbacks was a slog… we were tired… possibly beyond tired… our feet hurt, our legs were dragging, our packs seemingly heavier… (unlikely, as we had each drunk 7 lbs of water or so) We hiked the last 2 miles by flashlight, as darkness fell… we finally reached the car about 9:10, 12 hours after we had left.


Returning to camp we agreed that dinner would consist of a couple of beers and trail mix (with M&M’s) I finished the first beer, but couldn’t finish the second… I was too tired, so I stripped of the damp and dirty clothing, climbed in my sleeping bag and went to bed.


Sleep was not as sound as I would have liked… various pains and aches made themselves known, and the camp ground was noisy, particularly one couple we named the newlyweds, who coupled repeatedly, and loudly… (this brings to mind the phrase “get a room”)


We both slept in a bit… we were stiff, but functional, and little by little aches gave way to the warm sun and the bravado of having hiked something over 19 miles in one day at 55 years of age… I made breakfast, coffee, bacon and biscuits. We took a walk around the camp trying to identify the newlyweds, who strangely had arrived in separate cars… We broke camp, packed the car, and headed for one last visit to the visitor’s center. We found ourselves in conversation with a ranger (the head ranger?) and got the rest of the story on Mr. D… When the radio call came in from Patrick, then knew who he must be, the one hiker who was a jerk the day before during orientation… The Navajo cowboys in the canyon had reported him after he wandered off the wrong way, onto their property…


His joy of getting a ride out ended early when down in the canyon the truck was met by another, carrying two Park police, and a Navajo Tribal police officer… there were discussions… background checks… He was escorted back to his car, then escorted out of the park… there may have been threats about being seen in the vicinity again. The park suspected that he might be a pot hunter scouting… News of his reception and forced exit was welcome… It’s nice to know that occasionally, Karma still rules the world.


We left the park headed North, to Ketyana, and gas, and the road north through Monument Valley, and Mexican Hat.


There were roadside stands where Navajos sell trinkets and rubber tomahawks to tourists… lots of stands, most with only a single vendor or two… the season now coming to a close… there was the new vendor area at the Monument Valley turnoff, where each vendor had a garage size space with a roll up door. We have both done Monument Valley before, so instead we turned up the hill to the west to Goulding’s Trading post, motel, and museum… It was a good choice… the museum, dedicated to the trading post, the early area tours, the Goulding Family, and most of all the many movies made there is small, but full of artifacts… its not very slick, rather more cozy… we enjoyed it… the Trading post, with its jewelry and trinkets, also had really nice Navajo rugs, Katchinas, and higher grade wooden tomahawks…


We left Gouldings and continued towards Mexican Hat, stopping for photos… many of which seemed to include abandoned beer cases and cans… Base on our research Bud Light is the most popular brand on the reservation, with Bud and Coors’s light also found.


We passed through Mexican hat in search of ruins… we were headed for Coom Wash… on the west side of Coom ridge… there were known roads, roads said to be ok for passenger cars, if so, easy for the Escape… but there had been rain two days before, and the roads weren’t passable… the road to the south was really bad… be abandon the effort after fording a couple of streambeds… deep with mud… before we got stuck really good… the road to the north was better, but there was one big mud hole, and a side road to a ruin was impassable…


We returned to Mexican Hat, checked into the motel, showered, bandaged wounds, and headed to dinner at the Swinging steak…


It’s now nearly Midnight, so I will end here for now…

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