Best of the Southwest – Canyonlands – Day 10 – Mexican Hat

This was would prove to be a day of non-stop fun and excitement encompassing a world filled with ancient Indians, Mormon Pioneers, modern day Navajos and their scrumptious tacos, river runners, rock art, stoner geology, extreme weather, death-defying roads, and rainbows.

BLANDING

Edge of the Cedars is one of the best Native-American museums in the world and it’s worth spending at least two hours at this amazing place. The Edge is a scientific museum created and curated by reputable archaeologists who have gathered the museum’s artifacts through painstaking and meticulous excavations, not display cases filled with locally looted items without provenance that we had been seeing in all the little museums from Green River to Monticello.

You see, if you don’t know exactly where an artifact came from – and I mean the exact layer of dirt where it was unearthed from – then all you have is a shiny thing. It’s useless from a scientific standpoint, though on the black market, it might be worth a pretty penny. The Edge of the Cedars museum is the real deal, complete with excellent storyboards that explain what you are looking at and what it all really means.

That said, the archaeologists are still playing the “we used to think but now we know” game about many controversial Anasazi mysteries, like what the rock art symbols mean, and why the Anasazi completely abandoned their spectacular cities like Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde by 1300. I still think it was a combination of factors: prolonged drought and the water table dropping, thus making it hard to farm near their homes; depletion of natural resources like wood, forcing them to go further and further afield; competition and warfare; and disease and poor nutrition. All of these factors – and probably some others we don’t know about – created the Perfect Storm.

And then there’s the raging Ancestral Puebloans controversy. The experts can’t even agree what the hell to call the ancient Indians who inhabited the American Southwest.

On one side we have the old school archaeologists and anthropologists who have always used the term Native-American.

In the 70’s, that term went out of vogue and everyone started calling them Anasazi, a term coined by the infamous cowboy pothunter Richard Wetherill in the 1880s, which is actually a Navajo word meaning “ancient ancestor” or “ancient enemy”, depending on who you talk to.

And now, in the Political Correctness Period, the experts have coined the tongue-twisting phrase Ancestral Puebloans because each Pueblo group has their own name. For instance the Hopi refer to their ancestors as the Hisatsinom. But the Acoma and the Laguna don’t want to use a Hopi word.

The museum also tried to tackle the thorny issue of locals from the Blanding area systematically looting Anasazi sites for the past century. They told two very intriguing CSI stories of forensic investigation. The first involving a fellow who was cleverly captured by running a DNA test on the filter from a cigarette he had tossed in the backfill from a site he had looted called House Rock Ruin. The looter was prosecuted under the Archaeological Resource Protection Act of 1979. Another looter was caught and convicted because of his habit of leaving his empty Mountain Dew cans. It is estimated that 80 percent of Indian archaeological sites in America have been looted and more than 90 percent around Blanding.

* Check out my mystery novel “Anasazi Strip” to get a flavor for the pothunting of Anasazi sites on the Colorado Plateau.

https://www.amazon.com/Anasazi-Strip-Steve-Carr-ebook/dp/B00BF1ZTUO

The museum showcased one of the largest pottery collections in the world, along with baskets, ornaments, jewelry, blankets and clothing, ceremonial objects, architecture and masonry styles, weapons and hunting snares, toys and dolls, and miniature pottery items that were probably made by or for children.

The Puebloan Pathways exhibits were organized by time period, starting with the first American Indians, called Paleo-Indians, who followed the land bridge from Siberia after the last Ice Age. This is called the Archaic Period and began 11,000 years ago. (6500BC – 1200BC)

The Basketmaker II Period ran from 1200BC – 500AD

The Basketmaker III Period ran from 500AD – 750AD

The Puebloan I Period ran from 750AD – 900AD

The Puebloan II Period ran from 900 AD – 1100AD

The Puebloan III Period ran from 1100AD – 1300AD

The Pueblo Historic Period ran from 1600 – 1959

They also had some amazing photos of Canyon Country, taken by famous Southwest photographers.

There was a fantastic exhibit featuring items that were found at the pueblo site dating from 850 AD that was excavated where the Edge of the Cedars Museum is located today. This was the genesis for the creation of the museum. And the Richards Perkins Collection of ceremonial and utilitarian pottery in their black display cases is one of the best you will ever see.

After viewing the inside exhibits we went back outside to check out the restored Pueblo. They even had a wooden ladder that we use to climb down into the restored ceremonial Kiva. They also had a very cool sculpture garden with a dancing flutist sporting a very prodigious prick. And there was a dreamy sun sculpture designed to pinpoint the winter and summer solstice.

After roaming around the Kiva and sculpture garden, we headed back inside and perused the extensive Museum Store with its excellent selection of books; jewelry; t-shirts; and Native-American crafts, like healing balms made from native plants and Tewa Tees prayer flags.

One of the neatest things I noticed during our visit to this isolated and forgotten part of Utah was that many of the businesses were now staffed by Native-Americans. Everyone at the Museum was a NA.

BLUFF

The Twin Rocks Cafe is tucked back into the base of an amazing rock formation on the north end of the tiny town of Bluff that sits along the banks of the muddy San Juan River. The restaurant is nestled in the shadow of the towering Twin Rocks. It is a must see place to stop and eat. We recharged our electronics from the electric plugs at each table and caught up on the latest and the greatest with their FREE! Wi-Fi. Do yourself a favor and order the wonderfully tasty Navajo taco. We did!

What immediately jumped out at me was the fact that just like at the Edge of the Cedars Museum in nearby Monticello, Native-Americans staffed most of the businesses in Bluff, and that’s a big change from the old days. It makes perfect sense because Bluff is essentially a Navajo town (owned by white guys). Why shouldn’t the local Indians reap some of the benefits?

After cooling down and refueling, we headed over to the super duper San Juan Co-Operative Company Visitor Center right off US 191 in the middle of town. The cavernous, two floor historic building is the gateway to Bluff Fort which is FREE! This was definitely worth our hour-long stop.

When we walked into the fort we were greeted by several friendly cowboy/cowgirl docents, many related to the first settlers, who oriented us, and then left us be. I hate it when the official greeters follow you around and badger you their scripted nonsense. Inside the fort there were fifteen replica cottonwood log cabins and each cabin was exactly the same, one room with a bed, fireplace and small table, and chairs. There were signs and photos that told the story of each family and each cabin had been lovingly refurbished by their descendants. You gotta love those Mormons! There was also the schoolhouse that had no books at the start, the blacksmith shop, and the church/meeting house.

The fort was not really a fort but rather, a stockade village, with a wooden stake fence to keep in the children and animals. All of the cabins faced inward, showing that they were not concerned about being attacked. The Mormons made a genuine effort to live in peace with the Indians. The Navajos even referred to the Mormons by another word, Gáamalii, in order to differentiate them from the average murdering white man who they called bilagáana.

The fort also had a clever water wheel section where water ran continuously through the various wheels, troughs, and stone sluices, constantly recirculating like an MC Escher drawing.

Other attractions at Fort Bluff included the Craft Center where you could rent period costumes and snap goofy photos of yourself and your crew. There was a spacious gift shop, bathrooms, ice cream, sodas and snacks, and a shady picnic area with tables and seats overlooking the interior of the fort. Fort Bluff is a great place to just chill a spell.

The story of Fort Bluff is the hair-raising story of the San Juan Mission.

After our fun little visit to the Bluff Fort we headed along 3rd East Street for a few blocks past an attractive assortment of sturdy homes, and at the end of the street we followed the signs up the gravel road a short distance to the tidy town cemetery overlooking the bustling metropolis of Bluff. The grave stones included a sad line of little metal crosses marking the last resting place of some indigent World War II veterans – probably Navajos.

On our way back down from the cemetery there was a small kiosk and a narrow path leading to the shattered ruins of a Chacoan Great House.

On the west end of town was the town’s social hub, a convenience store and gas station called K & C’s Trading Post, where we filled up with gas and ice. The next services, other than the San Juan Inn, where we weren’t going on this trip, would be in Hanksville,about 150 miles to the northwest, and Bluff was less expensive.

Tour buses have become the lifeblood of these small Mormon towns which have grown dependent upon the holy touron dollar. The local Mormons and Navajos survive on seasonal tourism and their winters are long and lonely. So, try and spend a few bucks in each town you pass through so the hardworking people who service these stark and magical lands can survive too.

A few miles southwest of Bluff along UT 191 is Sand Island. This is a good place to stop briefly for an up-close with the San Juan River. Feel free to get your feet wet and chill a bit. But the river runs muddy, so it’s not a great place to swim because when you dry off you will feel like a mud monster. Before hitting the river, take the first right and follow the signs a short distance to the rather extensive, but badly vandalized, petroglyph panels along the shiny black, iron-stained sandstone walls to the right that are between 300 and 3,000 years old. There’s a lot going on with this rock art site, but it’s pretty hard to see. Still definitely worth a 15 minute stop before heading down to the river.

MEXICAN HAT

Mexican Hat is a large flat piece of sandstone sitting precariously upon a multi-tiered rock base on the top of a hill that looks like a Mexican Sombrero, hence the name. There is no town. There are no houses. You just follow a wide gravel road to a goofy rock formation in an area of the country where erosion does some very strange things.

There is a small town called Mexican Hat across the San Juan River at the edge of Monument Valley that is home to less than 100 people . But we were not going that far. In fact, this was as far south as we would be venturing on our trip. We had followed US 191 from Green River, Wyoming all the way south to this lonely crossroads (450 miles), and from this point on, we would be heading back north.

GOOSENECKS

A few miles south of Mexican Hat was the turnoff for UT 261 that would take us through the fiery Valley of the Gods. And a few miles later was the turnoff to Goosenecks State Park. From here until Hanksville there would be no Wi-Fi, services, or water. But we were more than compensated because this part of America provides nothing but spectacular views and blazing redrocks.

We were pressed for time and trying to outrace a nasty black storm blowing in from the south. I drove like a demon down the winding paved entrance road and we got to the Goosenecks just as the setting sun was splashing its cathedral light, like bright red and yellow luminous paint, across the deep canyon. We stood on the awe-inspiring rim and stared down into the spectacular gorge where the San Juan River in its more muscular days had carved a series of winding bends through the soft sandstone that rose into the sky like curvy buttes of brown delight, resembling colossal Goosenecks.

As we were leaving, a rainbow band that looked like a barcode suddenly appeared in the sky as lightning flashed on the far side of the river. Night was settling in and we still had to navigate the treacherous Moki Dugway and the sandy road to our campsite at Muley Twist, so it was time to boogie.

MOKI DUGWAY

UT 261 climbed north from the San Juan River through the Valley of the Gods until it came to a thousand-foot-tall battleship wall of imposing red sandstone. Most sensible people would just turn around and go back. But not the Mormons. Where sane people saw an impediment, the Mormons saw opportunity. So they dynamited a series of long straight switchbacks across the shear rock face of the mesa, hauled in some gravel, threw up some road signs, and called it the Moki Dugway (Moki is a made-up white man’s word for “Hopi”). It’s about five miles of white knuckle driving up into the clouds with scary cliff drops on the outside edge. To make it even more interesting, blocks of Kayenta sandstone had dropped from the mesa walls and littered the roadway like land mines, adding just a little more terror to our drive as we dodged the rocks by getting perilously close to the edge. Perhaps this is why UT 261 was featured on the TV show “Death Defying Roads”.

MULEY TWIST

When we got to the top of the Moki Dugway, we turned left onto a wide gravel road. This road went for about five miles and was pretty sandy. In several low spots we could feel our vehicle begin to slowly slide sideways. But I’m a sand road vet and I just maintained our speed at about 30 mph so that we didn’t get stuck and I didn’t overreact. So, we were just fine. At the end of the road we came to Muley Twist, one of the most incredible viewpoints on earth. No matter how many time I see it, it is still a wonder to behold the unbelievable views from this majestic mesa top in the clouds. Standing in the fading twilight from the shear edge of a thousand foot escarpment that looked like it had been cut by god like a piece of wedding cake, we could see four states: Navajo Mountain to our right was in Arizona), Shiprock was straight ahead in New Mexico, to our left were the San Juan Mountains in Colorado, and we were standing in Utah. Amazing!

It looked like the storm was going to hit us. The sun had set and that meant there was nothing to feed the rain, but bad weather likes higher elevation, and that’s where we were standing. It was touch and go for about an hour, and the lightning storm was outstanding, but in the end, it followed the laws of thermodynamics and simply melted away.