Butte Heads

STATES VISITED: Colorado / New Mexico / Arizona / Utah

The Wyman House served one of the best breakfasts ever -- a cheese and green chile frittata, biscuit, and hash browns -- and then Grace and took a walk around Silverton in the cool morning mountain air. This really is a lovely little town, with Wild West flair -- Wyatt Earp once owned a saloon here, where he and his buddy Bat Masterson hung out. Even the "bad" side of town -- the once notorious Blair Street, which in its heyday had a score of brothels and 30-some saloons -- is charming nowadays.








We drove south on the San Juan Scenic Skyway (a wimpy road, compared to that Million Dollar Hellway of yesterday) to Durango. Yet another of these Wild West mining boom towns that's been all slicked up to draw tourists -- but Durango is more of a real town, and we liked it a lot. While Tom and Grace and I went bagel shopping, Bob and Hugh visited the museum of the Silverton and Durango Narrow Gauge Railroad. I kinda wish now we'd been able to work a ride on that train into our schedule.







At Durango we headed west again, bound for Mesa Verde National Park -- another sight that I've written about in a couple of books but never got a chance to visit until now. It seems that you have to drive forever from the gate just to get to the visitor center, winding round and round these scrubby mesas through hidden valleys, climbing ever upward.

Random bit of dialogue on the road up: Grace -- "Why do we have to go see these Indian ruins when you just said that they are the same as the Indian ruins we saw two years ago in New Mexico?" Hugh: "Hold that sass, sister." Bob: "Sass? Is that why you boys call your sister Sasquatch?" Hugh: "Ooh, Grace, you've been lawyered!" Hugh and Tom in chorus: "Oh, dang! Oh, dang! Oh, daaanng!!"

The views from the top, though, are jaw-dropping. While we were gazing out over that valley, Grace and I saw this herd of free-range horses cross the park road, stopping traffic.

We didn't have time to do one of the in-depth ranger tours, but we did drive the Mesa Top Road, where we got to see some ancient pit dwellings, a number of excavated kivas (the Anasazis' central ceremonial rooms), and, viewed from across the canyon, a spectacular line-up of cliff dwellings. The engineering and architectural genius of these peoples is staggering, especially when you consider the tools they had available.


It was such a beautiful blue-sky day, the perfect conditions for seeing these vast canyons and their ancient buildings. And looking around, there was no doubt that we were out of the mountains and into the desert. Gone were the aspens and lodge-pole pines; now we were amidst pinyon and juniper trees (those lovely blue berries, precious source of gin). We saw a lizard skittering around near the path -- a new entry on our wildlife log.

Leaving Mesa Verde mid-afternoon, the race was on to get to Four
Corners. Now the desert was really getting dramatic, with strange buttes and other outcroppings. Down in the southwest corner of Colorado, we crossed the state line and entered Navajo tribal lands, where a monument has been set up at the exact point where Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Arizona meet. Geographers recently recalculated the states' meeting point and have declared that it's somewhere else, about a mile away, but there are no roads to get to that spot -- so we tourists continue to flock to the spot set up in 1912 as the Four Corners Monument.

I'm afraid there are only two possible snapshots to take at this spot -- one where a single individual is posed with one limb in each state (like something out of a game of Twister) or one where each member of a family is standing in a different state. We opted for the latter. Grace is in Arizona, Tom in New Mexico, and Hugh -- colossus that he is -- stands astride Utah and Colorado. So yes, we visited all the states I listed above, but two of them were kinda cheating...

The Navajos are working the Four Corners site for all it's worth -- selling frybread, T-shirts, pottery, jewelry, the works. We did our best to subsidize tribal activities with several purchases.




Then on through more Navajo desert, through tiny town after tiny town, each consisting mostly of a gas station and a trading post. Bob expressed some skepticism about what we'd find at Kayenta, where our reservations were for tonight, but when we got here we were pleasantly surprised. It's a proper town, with an airport and several businesses; they have a Burger King, a McDonald's, a Sonic drive-in -- all the comforts of home.

The Hampton Inn, where we are staying, is actually excellent -- built to look like an adobe, but smartly furnished inside. We ate at the hotel's restaurant and I had a green chile stew that was one of the best things I've eaten this trip. During dinner, a ponytailed man strolled around playing a traditional wooden flute, a soothing sound that was way better than any muzak or jukebox.

After dinner we walked around the Navajo Cultural Center next door, which has models of traditional hogans, a sweat lodge, and a shade lodge. Our walk, however, was cut short when we noticed a jackal roaming around the Burger King parking lot next door. Another new entry on our wildlife log, and a creepy one. Yes, folks, we are in the desert indeed.