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November 08, 2004
Gila Cliff Dwellings
Driving to the Gila National Monument was gorgeous. More of the spiky range, more little mountains, and finally pine forest which reminded me of Montana. I was the only one camping there. Out of two campgrounds, both were empty. They are essentially a series of tenting slots up against a parking lot, so I have no choice but to pull up a slice of parking lot and hunker down.
The Gila cliff dwellings were totally incredible. The rangers were knowledgable and friendly, I think this is because they are volunteers and don't get the crowds the way some do (ahem, Carlsbad, cough cough, Great Smokies ahem). A pleasant hike up the canyon led to the cliffs where long ago folks had built some very beautiful housing of stones and mortar. These areas kept them warm, dry, and safe from predators and attackers. They were rather luxurious; windows, ladders, storage rooms, terraces, paths, etc.
A feeling of real tragedy overcame me while considering the fate of these peoples' accumulated knowledge. I was thinking about what living in an area like this would do to your mindset. The majesty of the canyon and river below being the main sights you would see each morning and evening... The quiet whispering wind and coyotes being the main sounds at night. I wondered a bit what kind of world would we have if people living this kind of life made decisions. I guess we will never know, since they are long gone.
Petroglyphs always give me an eerie feeling, and there were plenty in this area. I talked a while with a ranger about the technique of powdering up hematite (an iron-rich rock available in abundance) and using a blowgun to spread it out, like an airbrush.
It was a lot of fun to run into a little pack of javelinas, or collared peccaries. They were running around whistling at each other and really cracking me up. I guess when you are alone in the wilderness for a while, all kinds of things become hilarious. These little guys were so earnest and serious in their hunting and rooting, but as they ran, their tiny little legs didn't look like they could keep up, so they had an awkward trot.
One thing I noticed in New Mexico... on the small roads, everyone waved. Nebraska is the only other state where this practice is implemented as thoroughly.
Stopping in Silver City, I asked a young fellow about the best Mexican food in town, and he pointed me to a place where his mom used to work. I can't say its the best, because it was all I had, but it was excellent.
Later in the day, a truckstop shower renewed my spirits (and probably those of anyone I did encounter).
Posted by dokodemo at November 8, 2004 12:18 PM