My Dream Fort Was Once an Active Metropolis 800 years ago

Did I need a kiva to answer my prayers and to keep my beverage steady?

Day 17: July 9, 1988 Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado

The Mom stirred early.

Her slippers gently rocked the pop-up camper back-and-forth. In a soft whisper, I heard her tell Sister Noelle softly that she was going to take “Chapstick to the cleaners.”

What? Was I dreaming? Or did I hear something incorrectly? I peeped from the tan curtain and saw The Mom with the broken pink laundry basket, heading for the campground laundromat. Whoa — that was close. Perhaps The Family was getting tired of Wally Chapstick and never facing the camera for dramatic reasons only known to yours truly, dear reader.

Did I dream, again, of slightly older women rangers in brown uniforms who knew all about the Ways of Nature? I think so — since I was still asleep as The Mom was surprised to see us all in bed.

The Mom boiled water for hot oatmeal while we cleaned and refreshed ourselves. I smiled at the sun and sniffed my pits. Not bad. Maybe just a dollop of cologne rather than a lengthy shower.

The Mom surprised us with the Drink of Astronauts — Orange Tang! Out of this world! Three hearty glasses saved the banality of the oatmeal.

I was ready to explore the Cliff Dwellings

The Far View Visitor Center at Mesa Verde was not far — the road there was steep, narrow, and twisty. The shoulder was two feet at its widest. Then a drop of several hundred feet to the forested valley floor. It was rather a nasty little road. The speed limit was no higher than 25 mph.

Jerks exist everywhere — even outside of New Jersey — and this one jerk was following too close to the Family Aardvark Van — the red Ford Aerostar. It was a misnomer because there wasn’t anything faintly star-like about the van. Neither was it aerodynamic — or had the ability to fly. Anyway. This jerk in a red Camero tried to pass us on a curve and a steep grade — and I was like — this jerk will get us all killed!

Then, from behind a bend, a white food delivery truck — a Pepsi truck — not a Coke one — appeared, and the Camero had nowhere to go. Crash into the Pepsi truck head-on or turn off the road — over the edge. So the jerk crashed through the guardrail and careened over the side of the cliff.

Smoke soon rose and twisted to heaven — like a soul released from a huge fire — like the Ancestral Pueblo people must have made centuries ago.

Tragic — truly tragic, but one less jerk, right? Did the jerk have kids? Have a wife? Girlfriend? Would his mom shed tears? Would a coworker now get a promotion? Why was he in such a rush to waste life like that?

Well, perhaps I’m the jerk who just fantasized about that jerk tailgater. The Mom pulled over, and he passed. We never saw him again.

Sorry for lying, dear reader!

The visitor center was similar to all the others

We walked around the center and saw several exhibits. There were two major mesas in the park — Chapin Mesa and Wetherill Mesa. That morning we made for the larger Chapin Mesa.

The sun was bright — duh, and warm — duh, but a slight breeze made the day comfortable.

We arrived at Balcony House Cliff Dwelling at a quarter after 10. We were fortunate to catch the ranger-guided tour at 10:30.

Only fifty people were allowed down into the ancient dwellings at one time.

The ranger let us down a long flight of steel stairs, along a very steep, almost vertical cliff. The group gathered by an overhanging alcove. There was one attractive girl in the group — but maybe too young.

At 19, such living sights can make Cliff Dwellings seem dead and uninteresting.

The ranger — not sexy, but nice and informative — gave instructions on how to climb the 32-foot ladder into the confines of the Ancient Ruins. The place was incredible — 800-year-old stones still in perfect place after years of silence and erosion, still preserved for study observation and wonder of North America's first inhabitants — well, long before the destruction of The White Man.

The ranger told us about Balcony House

As I listened carefully, I wondered about the ruins. (video link). A mysterious aura surrounded the place — as the souls of the Ancestral Pueblo people still went about the mundane activities that we still do today — wash clothes, cook dinner, and bathe. I heard faint whispers of the Ancestral Pueblo people carried on the winds of the valley — wondering who was this dude who calls himself Wally Chapstick? Shouldn’t he lose a little weight?

At Balcony House, the ranger dude pointed down to a large hole in the middle of the dwelling called a kiva. It was perfectly round and several feet deep. It was used for religious ceremonies.

Of course, humanoids being primitive, no women were allowed in the kiva.

Were women too busy washing clothes and taking care of the children and having affairs whose husbands in the kiva-hole liked politics and religion more than marriage and sex?

Despite this, the Ancestral Pueblo people were highly advanced

They built their homes underneath cliffs as protection from Nature. I imagined the overhanging cliffs to be one big awning to keep the rain, snow, and ice at bay, and the houses nice and cool in the shade. Not bad.

The ranger dude asked, “Does anyone know what the small holes in the ground of the kiva are used for?”

Brother David walked forward and before I could crack a joke to make the attractive girl laugh — David replied in a cocky and superior manner, “It represents a symbolic opening to the underworld.”

The ranger praised David for his knowledge. “You’re right!” Well, Dave is a Disciple of Dudeism, so good for Dave for stepping into the intellectual limelight, stealing the attention for himself of that cute girl.

I knew the answer, of course, as a Spiritual Dude, but I was gonna say that the holes were used to hold one alcoholic beverage — for comic relief.

The group of fifty had to crawl on hands and knees through a tight tunnel

I was worried that The Mom wouldn’t be able to fit through — not that she is a woman large — but she managed. Would she need a little “push from behind” — from the Ranger Dude, not me — as she reminded me of Winnie the Pooh when he gets stuck in the rabbit hole?

We climbed another ladder and then proceeded up the steep cliff to the top. I walked out — imagining living in this other time. Were the people, then, happier? More at peace? Did they even have a word for happiness?

Cliff Palace was our next destination. We were able to explore this dwelling without a ranger. It was a good distance, but well worth the walk.

Cliff Palace was incredible far larger than Balcony House

Cliff Palace possessed many tiny houses and kivas and towers — all made from stone. This Native American Metropolis was once home to thousands. The lousy tourists — these crowds — took away from the moment, but one quickly blacks out any or all disturbances — except, of course, when a rather attractive girl or a sexy ranger passes by.

Afterwards, we ate lunch at the museum restaurant at Spruce Tree House. I munched down a nutritious hotdog and fries while Noelle scarfed down a beef burger and Dave and The Mom packed away a huge baked potato with cheese, ham, and bacon. Was I the only one thinking healthy?

The museum had many exhibits about the Ancestral Pueblo people, such as pottery baskets, weapons, and various tools.

While the museum was informative, the tour clock was tick tick ticking. We still had much to see before dinner. We planned to visit Spruce Street house, again a steep walk into a fertile green valley. There were that many dwellings in the park?

The Mom reached for her camera in the back of the van. As she closed the door, I thought, “Mom doesn’t have her keys.”

I wanted to ask her if she had them on her before she slammed the door, but I kept my mouth shut. As we walked away from the Aardvark Van, The Mom felt her pockets. Yes — she had locked them inside the car!

Why didn’t I say anything? The Dude Force was telling me. I sensed a disturbance in the Dude Force. I was angry at myself, too, for having left my set of keys back at the camper.

Two rangers tried to break through the car window. The Mom told us to see Spruce Tree House. She would stay behind with the rangers.

Spruce Tree House was interesting, of course. This particular cliff dwelling had a reconstructed kiva with an actual roof of wood and a six-foot ladder leading down. One by one we wandered inside. It was stuffy and dusty with little air. A beam of light penetrated a single hole in the roof. We headed back.

How was The Mom and The Key Situation going?

The Mom was upset and told us the story

The Rangers forced the keyhole loose — a piece of lock dropped inside the van so the passenger side door keyhole was broken. It needed to be taped over so it wouldn’t fall out. The Mom was upset — really upset. The Family Truckster could not be locked.

All she wanted was a drive back to the camper to get the other set of keys. Oh well! Shit happens. That didn’t help matters any.

There were Ancestral Pueblo people who lived at the top of the mesa in stone houses that were partly underground. Not as exciting, but still interesting.

Point Look Out was next along the Park Loop

Sun Temple was never completed. It is believed they left the area and moved south towards the Rio Grande River. The area went through a severe drought. It was never finished. The temple — was going to be used as a brothel — no sorry — as a place for religious practices.

Far View House was far larger — 18 rooms and chambers. It was used as an actual house at the time of the birth of Christ. Many large kivas in rooms had small doorways leading to hallway passages.

It seemed just like playing in forts as a child with my Uncle Ron. We used to make forts out of card tables and sheets and call the “The Main Place.”

I would make forts like this with blankets and sofa cushions and tables. Sometimes, the sheet fort took up the entire rec room back home.

We headed back to the campground — it was late

And we were hungry.

Our last stop was the observation tower a top one of the peaks in Mesa Verde. We took the inclined path. The sky was clear and richly blue for miles. We could see in every direction — mountain ranges that encircled the region, climbing heights well above 14,000 feet with snowcaps.

I heard a high pitched scream from my sister. A snake had slithered into the underbrush. Dave stood by her. I watched it sneak quickly by. A ranger found the snake and grabbed it with “snake grabbers.”

It was a large black constrictor — harmless to humans but deadly to rats.

The Mom prepared a dinner of Dak canned ham, cheese and macaroni, and leftover string beans

There was another ranger program at the campground called “Spirit Past and Spirit Present.” Although it was not as enjoyable as the night before, the program concerned problems arising due to “tourist overload.”

Before we all went to bed, Dave, Noelle, myself sat at the picnic table and philosophized about nature and heaven and jerky people. I reclined in a lounge chair, enjoying a refreshing wine cooler.

By ten, the air was chilly, but beautiful sleeping weather. All I thought about while I did my thing in the bathroom was sipping tea in the covers of my sleeping bag, closing my eyes, and dreaming of young smart ranger women wandering lost in the forest with just a brown jacket as a covering.

I am again, dear reader, only 19 years old.

More adventures coming! Look for these stories on The Masterpiece:

Day 14: Never the Same Sunset Twice at The Grand Canyon

Day 15: The Mom Saves Her Son From a Horrible Death on Bright Angel Trail

Day 16: Just the Gods Hurling Javelins of Lightning Above Mesa Verde