Four Corners Part 4: Canyon De Chelly

DAY 5

A good nights sleep at the Hampton Inn. The included breakfast was a winner too. Pre-scrambled egg rondolets brought back memories of college but didn't suck. Still can't find a cup of coffee worth a damn.

We headed out early and stopped next door at the Burger King.



After reading about the place in our Frommers Guide I knew we had to look. You see the place hosts a considerable museum for the WWII Navajo Code Talkers. If you don't know the story it's an incredible one. The short version is that during WWII native speakers of the Navajo language were recruited and deployed to serve as communication channels that were essentially unbreakable by Nazi or Japanese spy efforts. I can just imagine the radio operator taking off his headphones and saying to his lieutenant "what the hell is this?"

The collection housed in the Burger King is impressive. Rich with official documents, memorabilia, posters and the like.



That it's housed in a BK reaches to new heights of absurdity. But there it is.



We headed east on 160 towards the twin rocks then south on 59 through Chilchinbito and Rough Rock. While initially scary looking on the map we had the good word that 59 was in fact "fully paved" and picturesque. Both were true.

We landed at Many Farms and then headed south on 191 to Chinle. I was tingling with excitement. The second most anticipated part of this trip was at our feet. Canyon De Chelly (say "Duh Shay"). We had been warned by the hotel clerk to not be put off by Chinle. It was a rather run down but still serviceable small town. On the other side of town (3 blocks) was the visitors center to Canyon De Chelly. Mitchell signed up for a junior ranger badge which required him to fill out an activity book and collect trash from the park.

I had done copious reading about this place and had a day planned around a rim drive and a hike to the famed White House ruins. Those are the only ruins you can visit or hike within the canyon without a guide. There are many companies that provide tours by large trucks, called Shake and Bakes. That didn't seem so appealing but I really wanted to see some of these ruins close up and virtually the entire canyon can only be visited by driving yourself around the rim or taking such a tour.

Well out of the corner of my eye I noticed two local Navajos with ID badges standing around, shooting the breeze outside the center. I had also recalled reading somewhere that the National Park certifies official guides who can take you in your 4-wheel drive vehicle inside Canyon De Chelly. What I hadn't realized that the rate for such an expedition came at a mere $15/hour!

I also noted that I had a Hummer.

Now I confess some reticence in jumping on this bandwagon. I like to go it alone. I like figuring things out for myself. But...

How often do you get a chance to do something like this. Did I mention I had a Hummer?

5 minutes, and several forms, blood samples and swearing-in ceremonies later we were in the Hummer with Sally Tsegi (named after the canyon, Say-EE) who had been serving as a native guide for more than 10 years. Typical to the Navajos Sally was rather reserved and made little eye contact but was friendly enough. She appeared to be about 65 years old, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with some tasteful and low key turquoise jewelery.

We start off in the mouth of the canyon not knowing what to expect. Sally gives us a couple simple options for visiting CDC. As I am such a fan of Gilligan's Island I wanted to say it but I couldn't do a three hour tour. Too short. I suggest we start with a four hour tour.

[You know it strikes me as I type this what a complex language English can be. Note the spelling of the last three words in the paragraph above. Each identical except for the first letter consonant and yet each pronounced differently. I'm nerdy that way.]

The tour starts a bit roughly as the canyon is incredibly dry and the entrance is an immense dust bowl. The Hummer is sliding all over as we try to find ruts to drive on. Kat doesn't care much for the start but we persevere. Canyon De Chelly is basically shaped like the letter V tipped on its side and is technically two canyons, De Chelly to the south and Del Muerto to the north. We started on the southern route with a plan to loop back to the northern end.

This photo is near the mouth of the canyon, the road had improved by this point.



The canyon walls are quite low at the start, the base of the V, perhaps only 100 feet or so but quickly rise to many hundreds of feet and further down nearly 800 feet off the valley floor. The valley is not very wide, vary from 200 to perhaps 500 feet across. It follows what is now a nearly dry river bed and is densely populated along its edges with non-native trees. More on that later.

Sally told us quite a bit of the history of the area and I'll do my best to recount both the stories she told and the way she told it. There were just countless stories and features of the canyon and ruins that she pointed out.

We quickly arrive at a towering rock. Sally points out some petroglyphs and suggests we jump out for a closer look. She directs our view upwards and then scrambles up the 15 foot base of the rock to point things out more closely.



I'm trying to imagine doing this myself at her age. I'm trying to imagine doing it now. OK then.

Sally was a wonderful guide and regaled us with stories and history of CDC. She would drop pieces of stories throughout the trip and as I write this I'm synopsizing them into a more singular narrative.

On this rock are many different eras of petroglyphs, everything from those done by the "ancients", a term she used interchangeably with "pueblos", to those done by her great, great grandfather to a few done by youngsters today. In this shot amongst the many images you'll see are "running birds, running animals and hunters after deer."



High up on the rock, really nearly worn away with time, was an image of the "humpback flute player" who, when I asked, Sally acknowledged was known by some as Kokopelli. Koko meaning wood (his flute) and pilau for hump (his ubiquitous bag of seeds on his back). Sally's great grandfather, Little Lamb Cap (what he was known for wearing), always warned Sally to stay away from the sound of flute playing as the humpback flute player was infamous for wooing women and giving them children. He had "dozens" of such children.

We saw Newspaper rock, Owls Eyes, Turtle rock, Duck rock, Dog rock (AKA Junction rock), and Frog rock (also know as Old Navajo Woman rock). There are reportedly over 400 ruin sites in CDC. We saw First ruin, Junction ruin, White House ruin, then Ledge ruin, Antelope House ruin, and Standing Cow ruin. More on these later.

Here's Mitchell earning his Junior Ranger badge in front of First Ruin.



Just a little further down was Junction ruin. Sally had another name for this and called Junction rock, Dog rock.



The cliff dwellings structures themselves were built with windows/doors relatively high to the floor so as to keep small children inside. Most dwellings were built with special rooms just for watching for predators and others for storing food and collecting water. The black streaks on the walls are called Nature's Varnish and are places where water will seep down the canyon walls to be collected in bowls.

In the midst of our tour we start to talk about the sad history of the Long Walk. To learn more about this click the link as what I'm recounting is Sally's family's experience. She mentioned Kit Carson and as the day wore on came back to his name several times. Each time she spoke more venomously as she became increasingly comfortable with us as sympathetic listeners.

During the Civil War Colonel Kit Carson was ordered to capture the local Navajos and bring them to Fort Sumner. In the winter of 1863-4 Carson and his men essentially starved the Navajo people out of CDC and there was a famous battle where Carson's men slaughtered what was believed to be roughly 100 people trapped in a cliff cave, now called Massacre Cave. Carson marched roughly 9,000 people about 300 miles. Many died. Many were exposed to new diseases and then died.

As quoted from the above source:

"After New Mexico and Arizona came into the possession of the United States, a series of unsuccessful military expeditions directed against the Navajos culminated in the campaign of 1863. During this year Kit Carson invaded the Navajo country, killed the sheep, burned the cornfields, and took possession of water holes, thereby forcing the surrender of the whole tribe."

About four years later the survivors were allowed to return.

Now Sally said that the leader of the returning people didn't know exactly how to find the canyon again but his god did tell him to listen for the music of the humpback flute player and that's how they would know they have found their "valley" as Sally put it. The the people did hear some music but weren't sure they were in the right place until they came upon this.



If you click through to the closeup below you'll see the humpback flute player, lying on his back, amongst the images just outside the left side of the cave, thus telling the Navajo that this is the place he sleeps. Meaning their home. Also worth noting the two types of hand prints, filled hands and outlined hands. Sally says a filled hand means "my cave, I'm still living here" and an outlined hand means "I'm gone, you may use the cave."



Sally noted that when her people finally did arrive home no one could sleep for an entire month because the valley was filled with the cries of people searching for their lost loved ones.

Somewhere in the trip we touch on the news of a recent kidnapping of a little girl. This prompts Sally to tell us the story of a teenage Navajo girl who was working as a servant for a white family there in CDC. Sally said:

The girl was raped by the white master and was told by her mother that she should give the baby away or kill it as it was never going to be accepted by her family. Frightened to death the girl hid some food over several weeks and then ran away days before the baby was due. She ran deep into the canyon.

She ran for nearly a full day and was exhausted. The baby came that night. Now further exhausted and dehydrated the girl became confused and frightened. She heard soldiers on horseback, searching for her, and was terrified they would find her. She hid from them but her baby was crying and she feared the noise would give her location away. Nearly dead with exhaustion she decided to abandon the baby, leaving it in a bush, and attempt to find help.

This was a decision, Sally said, that many young girls have faced. Sally continued.

She went on and after many hours again heard the soldiers approaching. She was too exhausted to run but hid from the soldiers again. She finally made it back to the family from which she had run. The next day the soldiers appeared at the house. They had found her baby, still alive, and brought her back. The child lived and my grandfather knew the child and heard the story from her husband many years later.


We continued along and passed a beautiful sweeping curved canyon whose ledge literally dropped down almost touching the dirt road. Here in the middle of the curve was a single petroglyph of a white man. One of Sally's family members had enlisted during WWII as a code talker and upon returning visited the canyon and this spot with a friend who asked about the petroglyph of the white man.

"What's that in his hand? A gun?"

"No, a martini."

Thus was named Martini Canyon.



As we drive along there's a group of locals congregated under a tree. Sally waves to them. Two little girls walk up to the car with jewelry. One of them offers a rug for sale that she wove herself. It's pretty but we say no thanks.

Shortly we arrived at White House ruins. They sit near at the bottom of a 400 foot cliff face in a large, curving, high-walled canyon. At the canyons base base there was a small, dry stream bed and a few vendors selling jewelry and snacks. Sally noted that her niece was one of the jewelry makers. We took a stretch, bought a soda and a bracelet or two.

I'm adding a photo that I took the next day from above on the rim top to help orient you. In the photo below you see the tree line sweeping up from the left. It follows the dry stream bed and the dirt road we drove on. We drove up and parked at the end of the tree line. If you look closely you'll see the few tent-covered stands in the copse of trees and the ruins in the cliff just above the canyon floor to the left of the stands.



The ruins are carefully fenced off but you can get quite close.



We headed back to the base of the V and then along the northern canyon, Del Muerto. Along the way Sally proudly spoke of her "grand daughter" who we later discovered was actually the daughter of a friend who left her child with Sally to babysit. The friend never returned and Sally raised the child as her own. Sally noted that her grand daughter learned English early. "It's my fault" she said. "She's really smart. Learned how to count in Navajo at a young age. But now people want her to come and speak about our people all over." Her GD is doing very well in school and going to the U. of Albuquerque this fall. Sally is very proud.

She also noted that her husband left her 2 years ago. She didn't say why at first but we got into a second conversation when I brought up that I had learned most of what I knew about the Navajos by reading Tony Hillerman's mysteries. If you haven't read Hillerman you should. Hillerman's mysteries and sense of place are simply excellent but it's his depictions of the Navajo nation, good parts and bad, that are considered so realistic and sympathetic that he's a hero to the whole tribe and has been recognized by them countless times.

Sally said she had read one of his books, Skinwalkers, and had been too afraid to read any others. Skinwalkers is terrific. I'd recommend starting with that or Thief of Time or Coyote Waits. Or get all three here.

Sally then adds.

"There was a skinwalker that came by my house 3 years ago."

Now this is an incredible revelation as skinwalkers are the Navajo version of evil witches to be feared and reviled. As I understand it the locals are afraid or embarrassed to share such stories with white people so I was thrilled that she was offering to tell this story.

"Amazing! Please tell me all about it."

I was with my husband then. It was late at night. We were asleep with the window open. We usually have the window open in the summer. I woke up to a bad smell. It was so strong. I thought it might be gas but it wasn't. I went to the window to close it and then heard a whistling sound outside. The sound moved and went across the bushes outside towards my neighbors house.

I closed the windows and went and checked the children. It still smelled all around the house but the whistling had moved on down the valley. The next day the smell was gone and I went up at the store and saw my neighbor. I laughed and said 'Hey you stink! You gotta take a bath! And stop whistling at night!' Then he said 'I thought I was the only one who heard the whistling! It went down the valley past my house.'

Well that was... one of them... a skinwalker who visited us. [her tone changes and she laughs] I think maybe he was telling me to be rid of my husband. He hasn't come back since. [laughs] The skinwalker.

[me, stunned, marveling] "Did you do a Sing afterwards?"

(This Hillerman fan knows that skinwalkers are supposed to smell terrible and if one visits you it can make you sick and a traditional Navajo healing Sing would help you recover. Sings are part of Navajo "religious" ceremonies and are used, amongst other things, to cleanse a person or home of evil spirits.)

We did do a sing a few days later.

OK I'm floored! Frankly at this point my head is spinning. This is just an amazing day.

We continue along in the dusty canyon. Splendid sights at every turn.

We see more and more ruins. We came along a section of petroglyphs that were done along a crack in the wall. Almost like a mural. It's the photo right at the top of this blog entry. I call it the Petroglyph Trail.

We stop again at spot where there are a couple stands selling food and jewelry, this time below the Antelope House ruin. We do some stretching. Mitchell has collected a full garbage bag of trash for his Junior Ranger badge.

Tough to get a good shot with the fences protecting the ruins but this one worked.



Mitchell enjoyed some fry bread. I the view.



Sally asks if we want to head back or go a little further. We say further. Good call.

As we were preparing to leave on our next leg I heard what I thought were cow bells. Yep. There are still many families who live in the canyon today.



We go along a little further and Sally says that we're approaching her family's home. OK Sally's family home. Right here.

It's about 2 acres of land, gently fenced in, along the dry creek bed and many non-native trees. There's a slightly more modern hogan, with a door and window, built essentially like a simple log cabin with a shed under some trees. There's a dry well and the family kiva and original hogan just a couple hundred feet across their strip of land.

All of this situated at the base of a 650 foot straight, vertical cliff wass which ends in an enormous, knife-edged corner that looks like a towering face. See the photo below.

We added windows and a door and a stove to the kiva so we could stay there in the colder weather. My brother wanted to move our old hogan and started to. He took the roof off but then he got the cancer and he died before he could finish moving it. I don't know if it will get finished...

This is Sally's family land.



This shot is from the dirt road. The old hogan is the log house with no roof along the bottom/center of the shot. You can see part of the kiva at the base of the cliff on the very left edge of this shot.

Here they are together.



I grew up here. We'd sleep in the hogan during the winters and outside under the cottonwoods in the summer. All these trees around here are new. They seemed to all grow up in the last 50 years or so. When I was a girl they dammed up the river and it blocked all the water. We used to have a river running all year. Now when there is water you can't drink it. It's full of bacteria. You have to bring water in on trucks. We don't really stay here much anymore. It's too hard.

Sally's family home is the Standing Cow ruin. She noted that she used to take tourists into the kiva as she is proud of their home but the park superintendent considered it risky and put an end to it.

Here's a close-up of the kiva. Note the petroglyphs of the straight-back flute players on the wall outside, just above and to the right of the kiva. Straight back flute players were celebrated in her home as they represented her people and were considered less risky for young girls than humpbacked flute players.



Sally noted about the Cow being white. The ancients discovered that if they painted the cliff walls outside buildings with a white clay that it would reflect daylight back into the buildings. Several ruins have large white sections for this purpose and you can see remnants of the painted walls in the shot below. The Cow is the only example where the effect was done both for its utilitarian effect as well as a work of art.

Well we were floored at having this unique opportunity to see Sally's family home but it was time to head back.

Along the way Sally pointed out a few more features. Here's another rock with a face in it, this one called the Man's Face rock.



We got back to the visitors center just as it was closing. I barely knew what to say at this point. Suffice it that Sally got a hefty tip and was greatly appreciative. I told her how we were so appreciative that she shared so much about her family and that it made the experience so much more profound.

Mitchell got his Junior Ranger badge. The park ranger's eyes popped out when he saw all the garbage Mitch had collected.

We said goodbye to Sally and checked into our hotel right at the base of the park, the Thunderbird Lodge. Run by the Navajo nation this is an upscale motel with a very authentic cafeteria attached and literally 60 seconds from the visitors center. Nice digs.

We dropped our bags and were exhausted but noted that there was a terrific sunset going on. We opted for a quick drive along the south rim. Good call.

There are a host of overlook spots along the rims of the canyons here but we went to the end and worked our way back. At the far end of the south rim is Spider Rock Overlook. Climbing out of the car we saw a fellow lurking in the shadows of the nearby brush. Turns out he was one of the dozens of vendors we saw along the ledge rim stops. Nice jewelry but no thanks.

Holy smokes what a view!



That jutting tower of rock is Spiker Rock. It rises over 800 feet off the canyon floor. Just an insane view here.



According to legend, Spider Woman taught the Navajo how to weave and now lives on top of the spire that is covered with white limestone. The legend says the white stuff is the bones of bad children who were carried off by Spider Woman.

This place scores a 9.8 on the Yosemitemajesticviewerometer.

There were other spots along the way back towards the hotel. A storm brewed to the east and the rain began to chase us providing not just one but two rainbows.



We made it back and ate in the cafeteria. Pueblo stew, chicken and terrific Navajo tacos. The cafeteria was filled with locals who knew each other. Very sociable place.

A stop by the hotel office after dinner showed us a rack of about 150 Hillerman books on sale on a large rack. Kelsey was intrigued as I showed her all the titles I had read. She's developing her dad's taste for mysteries.

Later I sat outside and wrote copious notes on this day. The storm just missed us. The evening air was glorious as was the hotel breezeway just outside our door.

Snapper boy here had to get one last great shot in.



Whew what a day!

Bed.

CLICK HERE for the next part of our Four Corners trip.