A thousand feet of tuff, compressed volcanic ash, created the cliffs around Bandelier. When the ancient volcanoes erupted, cinders and ash rained down, covering 1,500 square miles. From the 10,199-foot level of Cerro Grande Peak, Frijoles Creek drops down 4,000 feet, cutting away the hardened tuff.
"Socialism at its best," I said.
Early pueblo peoples settled here on the outer slope of Valles Caldera in what today is known as Bandelier National Monument. As the early morning sun penetrated the Frijoles Canyon floor, Andy and I meandered along the Main Trail of Bandelier to the heart of the main ancestral Tyuonyi Pueblo and the nearby cliff houses that dated from about 1400 A.D.
"The sun feels wonderful," he said, avoiding snow patches on the edge of the trail. White covered the canyon, except where the Main Trail had been cleared.
"I guess if we lived with the Tyuonyi, I'd have a house down here," I told Andy as he climbed the first ladder to a cliff cavate. "No, I take that back. Their life expectancy was 45, so I'd be dead." I shifted the camera and climbed up behind him. More than 1,000 small cave homes exist in the canyon, most facing south or southeast.
The Ancients were no dummies.
Below the entrance, partial walls of the pueblo created checkerboard squares at the base of the cliff. In the lower rooms, the Ancients stored dried meat, corn, beans and squash. Doors in the roofs kept out rodents and cold wind, and it strengthened the wall construction. An interpretive sign about daily life in Frijoles Canyon around the 1400's read, "Everyone worked together for the good of the community." It sounded like a successful commune to me.
A nuthatch landed near us on a juniper bough.
"They picked a wonderful canyon as home," said Andy. "Life here must have been pretty good--food, water, shelter. They even domesticated dogs and turkeys. Ideal society."
"The sun feels wonderful," he said, avoiding snow patches on the edge of the trail. White covered the canyon, except where the Main Trail had been cleared."I guess if we lived with the Tyuonyi, I'd have a house down here," I told Andy as he climbed the first ladder to a cliff cavate. "No, I take that back. Their life expectancy was 45, so I'd be dead." I shifted the camera and climbed up behind him. More than 1,000 small cave homes exist in the canyon, most facing south or southeast.
The Ancients were no dummies.
Below the entrance, partial walls of the pueblo created checkerboard squares at the base of the cliff. In the lower rooms, the Ancients stored dried meat, corn, beans and squash. Doors in the roofs kept out rodents and cold wind, and it strengthened the wall construction. An interpretive sign about daily life in Frijoles Canyon around the 1400's read, "Everyone worked together for the good of the community." It sounded like a successful commune to me.A nuthatch landed near us on a juniper bough.
"They picked a wonderful canyon as home," said Andy. "Life here must have been pretty good--food, water, shelter. They even domesticated dogs and turkeys. Ideal society."
"Socialism at its best," I said.
Along the ridge top of the Pajarito Plateau, the ancient villages were connected by foot trails. We drove into the Jemez Mountains along the rim of the volcanoes to Valles Caldera. The ancient ring of fire formed a huge Montana grassland crater in New Mexico: flat, wet, poorly drained and wind swept. Buried under a foot of snow, even the Visitor Center was closed.
Route #4 wound along the Jemez River through the canyon for miles of ponderosa and juniper-covered hills and outcroppings of red rocks. "It's amazing more snow doesn't melt with such a bright sun," said Andy.
I remembered coming to Jemez Pueblo years ago with Carol to see the Corn Dance, one of two ceremonies open to the public during the year. A museum display described festooned warriors and maidens in the words of Native American N. Scott Momaday as they wove in rhythmical lines around the plaza, first all the men and then the women: "In them was an unspeakable calm and intensity, the whole rhythm of the turning of the earth, the returning of time upon it forever."
Route #4 wound along the Jemez River through the canyon for miles of ponderosa and juniper-covered hills and outcroppings of red rocks. "It's amazing more snow doesn't melt with such a bright sun," said Andy.
The Walatowa Visitor Center across from Red Rocks Park illustrated the history of the Pueblo of Jemez in the Canon de San Diego, one of 19 New Mexico pueblos in modern times. In the Museum of History and Culture, Andy and I read about the Jemez world-renowned pottery that includes bowls, seed pots, wedding vases, holiday ornaments and storytellers. As Andy and I browsed in the gift shop, Native American music played in the background, the chanting in Towa, the oral dialect of the Jemez, accompanied by drums, rattles and bells.
I remembered coming to Jemez Pueblo years ago with Carol to see the Corn Dance, one of two ceremonies open to the public during the year. A museum display described festooned warriors and maidens in the words of Native American N. Scott Momaday as they wove in rhythmical lines around the plaza, first all the men and then the women: "In them was an unspeakable calm and intensity, the whole rhythm of the turning of the earth, the returning of time upon it forever."
Regrettably, the woven bags and wool pillow case covers with Indian designs in the gift shop had tickets inside that read Made in India.
As we headed back north through the Jemez Mountains, we saw the tracks of what I thought were snow mobiles, cross country skiers and off road vehicles crisscrossing Sedondo Meadow and following Route #4. "This must be a recreation area," I said to Andy.
As we headed back north through the Jemez Mountains, we saw the tracks of what I thought were snow mobiles, cross country skiers and off road vehicles crisscrossing Sedondo Meadow and following Route #4. "This must be a recreation area," I said to Andy.
"They have to be animal trails," he answered. "They crisscross the snow everywhere, and there isn't even a place to park."
Coming back across the Caldera, we stopped to watch a herd of at least 300 elk graze peacefully in the center of the Valles probably a mile away. The binoculars that Tara had brought along to Las Vegas helped in identification. We could actually see the animals munching on Montana grass as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows before it slipped behind the peaks of the Jemez Range.
Coming back across the Caldera, we stopped to watch a herd of at least 300 elk graze peacefully in the center of the Valles probably a mile away. The binoculars that Tara had brought along to Las Vegas helped in identification. We could actually see the animals munching on Montana grass as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows before it slipped behind the peaks of the Jemez Range.
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