Drive from Holbrook, AZ to Mesa Verde, CO
Hubble Trading Post National Historic Site, Canyon de Chelly National Monument
Time constraints meant that we bypassed Second Mesa and Window Rock, much to our disappointment. We did, however, explore the Hubble Trading Post National Historic Site in Ganado, Arizona. The trading post looked to be left (or restored) to much of its original glory, full of large wooden beams and crisscrossing logs, creaking floors and dark backrooms. The array of Navajo crafts on display was amazing. I was especially in awe of the sand artwork. It was incredible to think that such intricate patterns and designs could be created by deftly painting on glue and placing layer upon layer of colored sand. What patience!
In another room we saw a woman seated in the middle of the floor gracefully weaving a stunning blanket on her loom. Every single strand had to be painstakingly threaded in a particular fashion so as to further the overall design (known only to the weaver, contained only in her mind), and then was gently wedged down using a special tool resembling a hair comb. The rhythmic thum of her comb was soothing and her pace unflagging. The only time she paused was to gesture to the other side of the blanket or to check her text messages.Mesa Verde was calling our name, so we unfortunately could not give Canyon de Chelly National Monument the time it warranted. With the small window of time we could afford, however, I was quite able to fall promptly in love with its glory.
The footage and pictures we had glimpsed of Canyon de Chelly, sacred homeland of the Navajo, were certainly awe-inspiring, but thus far all we had actually seen of note was a friendly and adorable dog in the parking lot of the visitor center.
We were in a rush and feeling the pressure of reaching our campsite before too late, as it would impact the next day and affect our time at Mesa Verde, mingled with regrets about missing certain fascinating places of Navajo and Hopi history and culture. We were very conscious of the limited daylight we had left at our disposal.
The crowds had dispersed and we had the park to ourselves just as the sun was preparing to set. We begrudgingly navigated the twists and turns of the road, stopping at the large empty parking lot at an overlook. A short trek and I stopped dead. We had quite suddenly come to the edge of the canyon, an elegant gaping chasm in the earth, filled with greenery and life. The layers of the rocks, the colors of the canyon, the serenity of its beauty—pictures could not and did not do the sight justice. Everywhere I looked I saw more beauty: in the line of a cliff, the striation of the sediments, the lushness of the flora.
Well worth it. Canyon de Chelly blew my mind. Here was a piece of the stereotypical southwest that I was actually viewing with my very own eyes in real life. Here was my introduction to the beauty stashed away in this portion of the country.
I expected to feel dizzy from the depths below my feet, but instead I was exhilarated.
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