Just the Gods Hurling Javelins of Lightning Above Mesa Verde
It was better than any light show from Pink Floyd or Genesis.
Day 16: July 8, 1988 Grand Canyon, Arizona to Mesa Verde, Colorado
No cheerful morning sun greeted us.
A dense fog carpeted the ground. Was there even a slight breeze against my shoulder? I retreated to the warm sleeping bag and fell back to sleep to dream of dreamy dreams of slightly older women rangers in sexy brown uniforms.
Alas, my rest was short-lived — Dave woke me with money for the shower. Could I just pocket the $1.50 and lick myself clean like a cat?
The fog had lifted, but the sky remained overcast. We had been blessed with great weather — the only rain, really, was through the Big Horn Mountains in Wyoming.
We were not in a big hurry to leave. After scrambled eggs and bagels, we left Mather Campground by 8:30. We had expected to spend a third night at the Grand Canyon, but since we had seen everything, we decided to leave one day early.
Although I wanted more hiking in the canyon, I thought back to Star Trek and Mr. Spock saying “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”
We rode along the East Rim Drive and stopped at a few more overlooks — Grandview Point — Moran Point — and finally Desert View.
The sky showed blots of blue. Did the day look bright, after all?
As we exited The Grand Canyon, I promised, like Douglass MacArthur, to return to fulfill the Quest — white water raft the Colorado River and hike to the bottom of the canyon. “I shall return!”
The open road was our companion once again
We headed west along Route 64 through Kebab National Forest towards Cameron, Arizona.
The trees and vegetation dwindled as we turn north on Route 89.
Small Native American jewelry stands dotted the road. We had entered The Navajo Reservation. Hand-painted signs stated “Turquoise jewelry, cheap!” “Tax free!” “Look and see!” “Meat! and “Pet wolf!”
The Mom possessed an interest in the word “cheap,” but Noelle cried that the “stands were against the law and the Indians were selling illegal goods!”
Noelle had read something that people were illegally stealing precious rocks from the Grand Canyon and making jewelry. So she deduced that “the Indians” were thieves. We laughed at her.
She sat in the Family Truckster while we browsed the side road displays.
“I won’t be the one to get arrested!” she said. “Look at the sign! Says tax free! It must be illegal!”
Trying to explain things to my sister was quite difficult but I gave an attempt to clarify her misconceptions.
“Do you think the Native Americans are that stupid to place huge signs saying they’re “tax free” without the police finding out? It’s tax free because the state has little jurisdiction here. This is Navajo Land. It is their damn reservation. It’s their rocks. Leave them alone. They’re to survive and make money.”
Needless to say, the dispute over Native American jewelry was ended.
My head against the window, I peered at the scenery and paid no attention to the conversations. My thoughts wandered as endless barren miles passed. The drive was long and hot. I felt tired, but I didn’t fall asleep.
We passed through several small Native American settlements and then stopped at a grocery store named Brashes to stock up on supplies.
Everyone was Native American except for ourselves
I thought is if we were visiting a foreign country. The homes in the various towns were poor and small — some made out of red clay and many, more conventional.
How can anyone live out here in the middle of a hot desert? However, I can understand the Native American philosophy of land. The Native American sense of heritage and history and territory is sacred. While it is still a reservation, it is their land — their home — and their laws.
I drove for a short stretch while The Mom rested.
With hunger creeping in, we searched for a pullover rest area, but there were none. Does the state even take care of the road here? We pulled into a parking lot in a small town and made sandwiches in the red Family Truckster.
Not the most glamorous way to eat lunch, but my stomach didn’t mind. We gassed up at some time forgotten gas station. An old Native American fellow was walking around.
An hour later we came upon the Four Corners Monument
It is the only place in the Union where all for states Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado connect. I recalled being here as a child, but that memory is foggy.
As it turned out, the Navajo Native Americans had taken control of the monument. We had to pay one dollar to a very unpleasant and obnoxious young Native American girl. She sat inside a wooden box, collecting money. Small, Native American gift shops surrounded the monument area.
The Mom snapped a picture of the three of us standing in a different state. We wandered about the shops. The only thing we bought was a snow cone. It was cold on my dry throat.
Two hours later we reached Cortez, Colorado
The scenery had changed drastically. We left the desert behind and entered into the mountains. I’ve heard Colorado is one of the most scenic states. We reached Mesa Verde and secured a campground at Morefield Campground, located in the valley of Mesa Verde National Park.
After much arguing and driving around, we chose a site close to the bathrooms. The Mom made a hardy dinner of tuna casserole and corn.
We didn’t attempt any sightseeing that evening. It was getting late. We were tired and shagged out.
I opened a wine cooler, settled myself on a lounge chair, and read up on the Cliff Dwellings and the Ancient Peoples who once called Mesa Verde home.
Dave and I took a walk and talked about a great many things — the Ultimate Question of the Universe, the Nature of the Human Condition, the Moral Relativity of Good and Evil, and How to Get Women to Fall in Love With You When You Have a Huge Ego, Despite Being Smart and Hugely Hunky.
Shall I write another memoir? The Mostly True Confessions of The Love Life of Wally Chapstick.
Once I spotted a female deer prancing in the shrubbery, all discussion ceased. Three tiny deer followed close behind their mother. What a beautiful sight! It was like The Mom and Company! The entire area was full of deer.
After watching them closely, I decided to throw rocks at Dave’s feet. Dave ran, but Dave counterattacked with more rocks. I finally had to rush him and tackle him to the ground.
Great, mature fun.
Later that evening, we attended a program at the campground amphitheater about the technology of the Anastasia Indians. What I enjoyed more, however, was the light show in the distance. Never before have I witnessed such a magnificent display of lights — streak lightning flashed all over the sky. There was no thunder or rain. Just the gods hurling javelins of lightning.
It was better than any laser show from Pink Floyd or Genesis.
More adventures coming! Look for these stories on The Masterpiece: