It’s been over a week now; the sun is low; the sky is faded; I’m
tired. The post I so looked forward to
writing remains undone, scattered notes gathered as we made our way across the
Navajo Nation for Marci’s Grandma’s second 90th Birthday. The weekend was just what I’d hoped for, but
as is so often the case when writing travelogues, no matter how brief, by the
time the trip is over, you’re too tired to record what went down, and then the
next morning real life sets in and before you know it, the journey is seeping
into your unconscious like desert rain sponged up by parched ground. Sure, it will spring up again, triggered by
another thought or memory, but what good does that do now. For now that memory is dry, cracked,
fragmented, curling up, and flaking away into the hot wind.
Recovery takes work, energy I’m not sure I have right
now. I think I’ll post a few of the
better notes that I do have, a few photos, perhaps fill in some holes and call
it good. It won’t be the work I
envisioned, but it won’t be totally gone either.
Notes exist when either Rio or Marci was driving. They don’t exist from when I was driving for
obvious reasons. But photos snapped
through dirty windows help. As we only
had the weekend and 956 miles to cover, there simply wasn’t time to stop
and compose, either the photographs or the writing. It truly is a journal written on the run.
Since we left Dry Creek as the sun was setting Friday night, I begin the record the next morning as we were leaving Page, Arizona.
Since we left Dry Creek as the sun was setting Friday night, I begin the record the next morning as we were leaving Page, Arizona.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
9:40 a.m.
9:40 a.m.
Page: Gateway to the
Navajo Nation. Antelope Canyon, a
narrow, slight-undulating narrow groove gouged in the gently slope slanting
down toward Glenn Canyon and Lake Powell.
From the highway, it is almost imperceptible, not much wider that a
narrow wash or sidewalk. But inside, it
is a cathedral of light, among one of the most photographed spots on planet
earth.
I know this road as well as the back of hand, but just like
I don’t know the names of the countless creases in my aging hand, I can name
very few of the folds, creases and scars of this weathered land. This is because I’m Bilagáana, and as much as
this space pulls my heart-strings, it belongs the Diné, who do know the name
and history of every dimple and pock mark, many having tó, or water, as part
of the name, water being so essential in this high desert of sand,
monolithic stone and juniper.
 |
| One of the many stone monuments for which I don't know the name, U.S. 98. |
10:19 a.m.
Grasslands are more a part of red-rock country then you
would think. High-open spaces of gold
dotted with scattered Juniper, and with just a little elevation climb, the
juniper thicken to dark clumpy forest.
Pinion join. Then a drop—the land
falls away in forested folds towards the knees of Black Mesa, a long line of
clouds trailing along the top. Crossroads
Trading Post: Saturday is flea market
day, the heart and soul of the Navajo economy.
Too bad we don’t have the time to stop for mutton stew. Damn, I haven’t had mutton in such a long
time. I can’t wait to eat at the
birthday gathering.
10:33 a.m.
I love how often stone is at the surface here: not rock
piles, but massive whale-backs of bedrock.
Sometimes they rise out of horizon like enormous sea-monsters arching
their back, but just as often they remain mostly submerged in the sand, a crest
of rippled rock forming a broad, low hill.
I’ve always wanted to build a Villa Savoy-like home in such a place, a
white ship floating above red, rippled stone on concrete pilasters. There’d be no grass to water, just cool,
slick undulating stone to walk across in bare feet in the morning—a beach house
on a frozen beach. Wonderful!
 |
| A whale-back hill near Tsegi Canyon, U.S. 160 |
11:00 a.m.
Between Tsegi Canyon and Kayenta. Rock is the drumbeat of this land: monoclines,
anticlines, volcanic plugs, monuments, buttes, swells.
Photographs and After-the-Fact Narrative
It was probably 11:30 when we pulled into the Chevron in Kayenta. Kayenta is the cleanest, most prosperous of the large Navajo towns (Kayenta, Tuba City, Chinle, Shiprock and Windowrock). I don't know if that is because it is the gateway to Monument Valley (and therefore receives more tourists dollars) or because it has a unique, more autonomous government than the other large towns, or most likely, a combination of both.
That may take some explanation. Politically speaking, as well as traditionally speaking, there are no towns on the Navajo Reservation. Unlike the Hopi, Navajo have never gathered in towns. In the past, there were no villages. Instead, there were clusters of extended family units.
Most of the reservation is still that way. Towns are few and far in between, but there are lots of clusters of homes on family lease sites in between. It's not near as rural as it seems. There just aren't many towns.
And again, I use the term "town" loosely. Politically, with the exception of Kayenta, there are no towns. Even Windowrock, the capital, is not a town. Instead, power is held at the chapter level (the equivalent of a county government), and what appear to be towns are no more than incidental proximity of families, which leads to the need for schools, hospitals, which then fuels a local economy, such as gas stations and grocery stores.
However, these communities have no autonomy from the chapter and have no power to self-regulate, such as establishing taxes, raising bonds, deciding zoning or promoting tourism.
Kayenta is the exception. With a population of 5,189, it has the only municipal-style government within the Navajo Nation and has a 5-member elected town board which hires a township manager (Wikipedia). It officially became a township April 30, 1997 for a five-year-trial after 17 years of planing. In the 2003, Kayenta obtained official permanent status as a municipality (Kayenta Township).
From appearances, it seems to have worked. Though still a long, spread out strip along the highway, like the other large Navajo Communities, it is cleaner and looks more prosperous, even on the backstreets. Of course, as Monument Valley is only twenty-five miles away and is one of the most photographed spots on earth, it would have a more robust economy with or without township status. Still, Chinle has Canyon de Chelly National Park and is not near as vibrant as Kayenta so I tend to think local control has a positive impact.
 |
| Cliff faces headed east of Anasazi Inn and Tsegi Canyon on U.S. 160 |
Photographs and After-the-Fact Narrative
It was probably 11:30 when we pulled into the Chevron in Kayenta. Kayenta is the cleanest, most prosperous of the large Navajo towns (Kayenta, Tuba City, Chinle, Shiprock and Windowrock). I don't know if that is because it is the gateway to Monument Valley (and therefore receives more tourists dollars) or because it has a unique, more autonomous government than the other large towns, or most likely, a combination of both.
That may take some explanation. Politically speaking, as well as traditionally speaking, there are no towns on the Navajo Reservation. Unlike the Hopi, Navajo have never gathered in towns. In the past, there were no villages. Instead, there were clusters of extended family units.
Most of the reservation is still that way. Towns are few and far in between, but there are lots of clusters of homes on family lease sites in between. It's not near as rural as it seems. There just aren't many towns.
And again, I use the term "town" loosely. Politically, with the exception of Kayenta, there are no towns. Even Windowrock, the capital, is not a town. Instead, power is held at the chapter level (the equivalent of a county government), and what appear to be towns are no more than incidental proximity of families, which leads to the need for schools, hospitals, which then fuels a local economy, such as gas stations and grocery stores.
However, these communities have no autonomy from the chapter and have no power to self-regulate, such as establishing taxes, raising bonds, deciding zoning or promoting tourism.
Kayenta is the exception. With a population of 5,189, it has the only municipal-style government within the Navajo Nation and has a 5-member elected town board which hires a township manager (Wikipedia). It officially became a township April 30, 1997 for a five-year-trial after 17 years of planing. In the 2003, Kayenta obtained official permanent status as a municipality (Kayenta Township).
From appearances, it seems to have worked. Though still a long, spread out strip along the highway, like the other large Navajo Communities, it is cleaner and looks more prosperous, even on the backstreets. Of course, as Monument Valley is only twenty-five miles away and is one of the most photographed spots on earth, it would have a more robust economy with or without township status. Still, Chinle has Canyon de Chelly National Park and is not near as vibrant as Kayenta so I tend to think local control has a positive impact.
 |
| Church Rock, a volcanic plug about 5 1/2 miles east of Kayenta on U.S. 160 is one of the many rock monuments in the Kayenta area. |
Your post is beautifully written. It is hard to believe you were tired. I could never composed anything as nice under those conditions. Although I sometimes get it right, I have very little range. I remain an artist that sometimes writes. I envy your sense of knowing what to do. Beautiful!
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