Trials
This post is a testament to the tenacity of the human body, the hardiness of Merrell hiking shoes, and the sturdiness of a Subaru named Martin.
Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/nLWares5SkZRnDRN7
May 26th, 2024 - Dakotas Day 3
We all have trials. When the Ancestral Pueblo people first settled at Mesa Verde in Colorado, they lived on nature’s equivalent of a skyscraper’s roof. The tabletop surface of a mesa is often windy, dry, and temperamental. There may be rich soil atop a mesa, but those who wish to harness it must survive first. The Puebloans toiled under blistering suns and harsh winds to grow squash, beans, and corn. They remained adaptive to survive the difficult elements of the mesa. To modern observers, their most fascinating adaptions lie in the remnants of their villages. Early Pueblo villages featured circular pit houses dug into the mesa. While they may be considered simple by modernity, the pithouses were ingenious. Their semi-subterranean nature insulated them against the mesa’s cruel temperature alterations. Their design included ventilation to accommodate cooking fires. Over time, Puebloan architecture shifted to above-ground villages built from brick. Thick foundation walls and log beams supported these multi-story structures. There were even watchtowers to provide protection over their village. Not ones for waste, the Puebloans converted their old pithouses into kivas. These were underground places of ceremonial and community importance, underscoring the interconnectedness of Pueblo culture. Every Pueblo village had a kiva. The Puebloans also made art, best displayed in masterful pottery and intricate petroglyphs.
Interestingly, historians are not sure why the Puebloans eventually abandoned the mesa top. We can learn much from their petroglyphs and villages, but not all is discernible. The best theory is that conditions became too hot and arid to sustain life on the scorched, windy plain. That’s when the Puebloans of Mesa Verde made a remarkable decision. They moved their village onto the edge of a cliff.
While on tour of the Cliff Palace at Mesa Verde, I kept staring out over the edge of the cliff. It was an awfully big drop down to the canyon bottom. The notch in the sandstone shelf wasn’t all that wide, but the Puebloans had ingeniously used every inch of the space well. Their cliffside village was stacked on itself, utilizing ladders to reach second and third stories. Small tunnels crept between houses to allow access to inner rooms. Against the cliff’s back, they had carved small wells in the stone to catch water seeps. There was no room to grow crops in the narrow alcove, so they carved handholds up the cliff’s face. That’s right. To survive cliff life, the Puebloans had to climb the cliff, every day, to tend their gardens on the mesa above. We climbed the path ourselves. Well aware of the pasty Americans now using the handholds, the park service has installed netted fences around the treacherous trail. These fences were obviously not present when the Puebloans lived on the cliff. Morbidly, I couldn’t help but wonder how many poor people died falling off the cliff after a long day of growing beans in the desert.
Truly, the Ancestral Puebloans were remarkable. Not only were they able to adapt to the changes in their environment, but they did so with incredible mastery. They built their homes so well that they have lasted centuries for us to study today. These masterful villages have traces of a rich, vibrant culture. They weren’t just surviving on the mesa. They thrived.
Thinking back to Mesa Verde, I like to close my eyes and imagine what life would have been like. On a hot summer afternoon, the cliff dwellings would have been cooled by the shade of the sandstone alcove. Cliff swallows would have twittered and danced in a rich blue sky. The white trail of woodsmoke would have curled into the clouds. Did the smell of it intertwine with the pounding thumps of corn being ground by a pestle? Children probably laughed as they chased each other around the ladder of their home. Did a turkey squawk when they ran by it? On a rooftop, I’m sure a mother scolded her barefoot son as he monkeyed around. She probably rolled her eyes to the woman on the next roof, who smiled sympathetically as she rubbed her pregnant belly. Nearby, her husband sang as he applied a new layer of plaster to their home. The thought of it makes me smile. How I wish time machines existed!
I love learning about the lives of other people, especially when you have the perspective of the trials they endured. If the Puebloans could move their homes to a cliff to survive a drought, what can I survive?
On the topic of trials, this blog wouldn’t be complete without an ode to our hiking shoes and our rental car. Shoes first. We’ve had the same pair of Merrell hiking shoes since our honeymoon in 2022. We estimate that we’ve worn at least 300 miles into the sturdy treads. They are still going strong. Is it wise to wear shoes for that long? Probably not, but good shoes are like good jeans. Once you get that pair that fits just right, it’s hard to exchange them for something new. After our rough hike at Black Canyon of the Gunnison the day prior, we expected our muscles and shoes to complain a little. When we later hiked to Corona Arch outside of Moab, Utah (yes, we drove 2 hours from Mesa Verde to Moab), we were surprised to find we were doing fine. We weren’t even sore! Our shoes, like always, plodded along the sandstone with nary a flopping sole or torn canvas. Our good old Merrells.
Our Arizona friends, Mark and Noël, had recommended the Corona Arch hike to us. Since we had already planned another Utah hike on this trip, it was easy to fit in. Corona Arch is a regal sandstone structure situated next to a smaller, cuter arch named Bowtie. The trail is about 3 miles long and full of classic Utah features. Would it be a Utah hike without some footholds in the sandstone and some orange sand?
A Utah experience also wouldn’t be complete without a sketchy dirt road. After Corona Arch, we navigated our rental Subaru Outback into Canyonlands National Park. We have rented so many cars. Some of them, like the Nissan we drove at Rocky Mountain National Park, were complete duds. Others performed surprisingly well. The Subaru was one of them! When we first packed our suitcases in the back of the sturdy grey vehicle, I commented that it was shaped like a hiking shoe. Tyler returned with, “We should name it Martin.” Neither statement made any sense. We’ve found that is a side effect of marrying your best friend.
Martin the Subaru had no idea what we had in store for him.
Poor Martin.
The Shafer Trail in Canyonlands was originally a ranching trail for Mormon pioneer settlers. Sheep and cattle were the first to walk along the winding trail that travels from the mesa top into the canyon. Later, it was used to haul loads of uranium ore into the town of Moab. In the 60s, Canyonlands became a national park, and thus, Shafer Trail became something to do for fun. On the park website, there is a phenomenal picture of a Volkswagen Beetle traversing the rocks of Shafer Trail in 1965. I’ll include the link below. If a Volkswagen Beetle could drive the Shafer Trail, so could Martin the Subaru. So, when most people were settling down for a cozy supper in Moab, Tyler turned Martin’s tires onto the dirt road. Time for a sunset adventure.
To be clear, the Shafer Trail is not a road. It has never been paved, and, because it is down in the canyon, probably washes out a lot. In fact, part of the Shafer Trail is a wash. That’s right, you just drive down a creek bed and hope there isn’t a flash flood.
Shafer Trail is insane.
Trail is wonderful.
The scenery along the trail was unmatched. As we descended 1,500 feet into the canyon, blue shadows stretched over the road. Ahead of us, the canyon glowed golden with the starts of a brilliant desert sunset. Wayyyy down below, the pale ribbon of road curled across the canyon’s floor. We had a long drive ahead of us.
Naturally, a sheep-trail-turned-road was pretty bumpy. Some of it had been graded with gravel, but large boulders still jutted up in places. Martin shook and rocked as Tyler carefully rolled over them. It was slow going. The canyon gently descended into shades of crimson, then purple, as the daylight waned. Just as the sun disappeared behind the mesa, we found the river. The Colorado River has eaten its way through Canyonlands, reflecting the red rocks like a mirror. It was a breathtaking scene. I would have loved to linger at an overlook of the river, but the evening was getting dark fast. On the road again. The Shafer Trail took us past the much-photographed potash ponds of Canyonlands, where we temporarily thought we were going to get arrested by the mining police. A tall chain link fence separated the Shafer Trail from the potash ponds. As Martin rocked and grumbled along the trail, a white pickup truck came peeling towards us from the other side of the fence. Red dust kicked up behind it in an ominous cloud. Stuck on the trail, we had no choice but to keep driving. I hoped we weren’t accidentally trespassing. Do mining operations have their own jails? The truck continued past us, perhaps completing a routine security check around their mining operation. Or maybe it was a routine scare tactic to keep people away from their ponds. It that was the case, it was effective.
We made it back to paved road just as the sky was turning violet. I’m pretty sure Martin let out a groan of relief when he felt the pavement. Brains jiggled to mush, we did the same. We might not have had trials like the Ancestral Puebloans, but the Shafer Trail was rough just the same. We were glad to be back in civilization that night.
Hiking Trails and Tours:
Balcony House Tour
Cliff Palace Tour
Corona and Bowtie Arch trail
Shafer Basin Road: https://maps.app.goo.gl/1vvDhhmVHqAWyvnNA
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