Adventure 32: Mesa Verde National Park

The Grand Dad of Cliff Dwellings.

Judy's first three hands this morning totaled sixty-three points, not counting the pegging points. i'm feeling good about the Cortez Open! Needless to say, I was a smelly skunk before I fully woke up. Inauspicious to say the least. After breakfast, (Oatmeal and Costa Rican brewed coffee), we drove to Mesa Verde, a place I've long wanted to visit. We weren't disappointed; in fact, we were awe struck. Judy more than once commented that she couldn't believe she was actually here. Mesa Verde is one of the World Heritage sites and is more amazing than the pictures that were in our old social studies books.  On our hike through Spruce Canyon, whenever we covered terrain that our Forest Service hadn't improved, I found myself imagining the footsteps of people walking the path more than a thousand years ago. Our ranger, Abby Gullick, exuded the passion we've come to expect from our rangers. She was knowledgeable, glib, funny, and she looked really good in her ranger suit. She was able to easily switch into Spanish to answer questions for three Latino ladies in the tour group, and she willingly answered the rest of our questions as well. Her only apparent "off the reservation" opinion was that it was a crime to try to manage the forests with our "Smokey the Bear" fire suppression policy. A devastating fire ravaged the top of the mesa in 2002. Abby said it will take three hundred years for the natural flora to return.  The view today is skeletal trees waving their withered arms under the wind and sky. After our tour with Abby, Judy and I toured the Spruce House on our own and hiked the petroglyph trail in search of native art. The trail was fabulous as it wound just under the mesa edge. We were able to see other less known building structures, which must be in every canyon considering there were over thirty thousand people living in the area as far back as 500 A.D. If I could have seen just one sight on this trip, this would be the one. There are several other housing units in the park, but they are closed for the season. We fortunately got our tour with Abby on the last weekend the Cliff Palace was open. Cliff Palace is an apt name, but it's doubtful the original inhabitants called it that. They were merely a band of eighty or so closely knit Pueblo Indians living and working, loving and wondering, breathing and dying in their own little part of paradise. It's doubtful that we'll ever know why they left, but it's not hard to imagine why they chose to live here in the first place. What is hard is for me to disregard my own cultural bias long enough to put my feet into these folks leggings. As a side note, I found myself taking pictures of the fall foliage. Stunning, but also ominous, as the fall weather will soon put on its winter coat. We will soon beat feet to the flat and humorless plains of the midwest, but fear not. These plains did produce my Hunny Bunny, after all. And semel and pepper nuts, which always make life good, especially today.

 Besides Juniper, there is also Pinion Pine and a breed of Mahogony trees that were insect resistant and served as floor and ceiling beams. You can see them as peeking dots in the distance.

 The canyon falls steeply away from the palace.

 A shot into one of the Kivas, which is a Hopi word. Who knows what the inhabitants actually called these places.

 Like DIYs everywhere, the Indians continually built until 1284 A.D. (Evidence ends then.)

 Judy peeking into one of the square towers, which are like four story apartment buildings.

 What the camera saw when I aimed it up. Petroglyph art on the side wall.

 This breed of oak is prolific. The natives used the acorns in various ways. Not much was wasted in the Pueblo world.

 Judy climbing the last of three ladders out of the Cliff Palace, an altitude gain of about 800 ft.

 A Kiva entrance at the Spruce House. Not sure if it's original or a recreation. Pretty cool either way.

 Another look from the camera as I pointed it inside one of the tall apartments.

 We got to climb down into this Kiva.

 Inside the Kiva, the air vent for the fire and the deflection wall just behind the ladder.

 The beams were interlaced to form the roof for the Kiva.

 The housing groups contain several Kivas. It's unclear whether each family had its own, but we know from modern ancestors that these were places of religious significance. There are nine Kiva pits in the Cliff Palace, and every housing unit has them.

 The petroglyph trail as it wound under the overhang. No complaints from the frickin' sixty-seven year old, but something was squeaking. I think it was her knees.

 Amarillo leaves, a reminder that life is both delicate and short.

 The view down the canyon from the middle of the Cliff Palace.

 Just another natural rock formation. Below, the grooves in the sandstone were evidence of a  tool sharpening station. 

 Way cool, and Yes!, it was worth the hike.

 I know how this guy felt. We wound around, up, under, over, and down the canyon just to see him.

I couldn't photograph the whole panel, but it was a series of figures about ten feet square. I doubt my water colors will last  this long. Maybe I'll start carving reliefs in stone.