Fajada Butte after the Great Snow of 1986, or was it 1987? Photo by M. Severson

I am an archaeologist who has lived in the desert for almost 50 years so let me start off by clearing the air: I hate snow!

Yes, I know it looks pretty on the mountains, like the powdered sugar you sprinkle on your French toast. And, yes, it is magical to stand out amid the whispering of light flakes spiraling gently from the gray blanketed sky.

After that delightful experience is over, I want it gone!

I doubt there is an archaeologist worth his trowel that likes the idea of snow covering the ground but part of my ‘curmudgeon-y’ attitude comes from my years as a tour guide.

And one of my first trips to Chaco Canyon came the day after a major snowstorm.

If you live in or have visited in the southwestern United States and are interested in Indian culture, or ruins, or rock art, or hiking and you haven’t been to Chaco; shame on you! First reported to the United States government in the mid-1800s, Chaco is the heartbeat of prehistoric archaeology in the southwest. The small sampling of photos that I have included here barely begin to convey the vast array of fascinating places to see in this World Heritage site.

Fajada Butte, sans snow, is the site of the solstice marking Sun Dagger it is seen here from the ruins of Una Vida. The park headquarters is to center left. Photo by M. Severson

The park was first established back in the early 1900s and originally included only the massive 800-room Pueblo Bonito. Gradually more of the current park was added until it included all the major ruins and dozens of outlying prehistoric communities and resources. 1)

Originally access to the canyon was only by two primitive roads. However, today you can drive nearly any vehicle into the park by way of the “Pueblo Pintado” road coming either from Bloomfield or Cuba, New Mexico. 2)

Photograph of fine chaco style masonry technique from Pueblo Pintado. Amazingly enough after creating these painstakingly beautiful stoneworks they coated it all with plaster so it was never seen. Photo by M. Severson

Ah, you say but what was that I said about about snow?

Okay, I better fess-up. Back in the day, and I’m talking mid-80s here, I decided to begin offering tours of archaeological sites and Indian reservations as part of the Community Outreach program at Pima Community College in Tucson. I am also trained as an educator and it just seemed a natural outgrowth of my various careers to visit the places I liked to go and take others with me. It became the perfect second job.

In scheduling my first tour into Chaco however, I made the mistake of setting it in February.

I live and work mostly in Tucson, Arizona in the great Sonoran desert. It is hot. We received a dusting of snow this winter and also last year but that is an infrequent occurrence at best.

Chaco Canyon though is 40 miles from anywhere in northwestern New Mexico. True it is located in a desert but it is the Great Basin; a high, cold desert.

In February they get SNOW! The day we were scheduled to leave Tucson a massive storm had settled over the Four Corners area.

Choosing discretion for once, we waited a day longer before leaving to head north. When I got there I saw that it had been quite a storm. Snow blanketed everything. Realizing that the south road into Chaco was definitely the worse of the two main routes available to me, I chose to enter the canyon from the north. In those days, from the north you could select either the road at the Blanco Trading Post or the one at the Nageezi Trading Post as both eventually hooked up to the Park Service road and the canyon. In good weather I always chose Blanco to go in and Nageezi to return so that we would get a different look coming and going.

Blanco it was.

Corner doorways are an interesting feature in Chacoan towns. This one is at Pueblo Bonito. Photo by M. Severson

Turning off NM 44 I was surprised to see that no one had as yet driven on the gravel road once it passed the trading post buildings. The snow covered it uniformly though I could vaguely see the outlines of the ruts. I was not too concerned, I had driven the road many times, I was in a high clearance vehicle and it was only 25 miles to the park. The proverbial piece of cake — ice cream cake!

In very short order I realized the road beneath the snow was frozen solid, if I drove over 10 miles an hour the van would begin to fish-tale and slide off the road into the ditches on either side. Two and a half hours and several badly bitten fingernails later, we arrived at the park entrance where I faced my next crisis.

The old park service road into the canyon was cut down through the sandstone talus and was about one and one third lanes wide. If someone was leaving by way of this road, which was still frozen; and we happened to meet . . . well, I didn’t really want to think on it further, I had come this far — down I went.

I, of course, shared very little of this with the people in my charge, though I had casually mentioned earlier that usually it took only about forty-five minutes to reach the Visitor’s Center once we left the highway; they couldn’t help but notice the time discrepancy.

My luck held, we arrived at the Visitor’s Center in one piece and amazingly enough we were the only sightseers at that hour and for much of that day. Who would’ve thought?

Everyone loved the canyon’s picturesque sandstone walls topped all in white. The sun came out, the trails drained and it was a chilly but wonderful day.

Yes that is a person emerging from the rocks! One highlight of any trip to Chaco canyon should be hiking up the cliff walls to the overlooks. The views are magnificent. Photo by M. Severson

Later as we were leaving the Visitor Center to return to our motel in Farmington, I happened to mention how bad the Blanco road had been. The Park Service ranger behind the desk laughed and replied, “Oh Blanco, nobody uses ‘that’ road in the winter!”

Here is a view of Pueblo Bonito from the overlook. Photo by M. Severson

OK then, in leaving I would use Nageezi. In retrospect I guess it was the right decision, the Nageezi road was not frozen . . . it was mud! Two and a half hours later I was thrilled to see pavement!

Today you will probably have no such adventures arriving safely at Chaco but if I were you, my trips would be confined to spring and summer.

1) http://www.nps.gov/chcu/index.htm

2) from the Park Service Guide: The preferred and recommended access route to the park is from the north, via US 550 (formerly NM 44) and County Road (CR) 7900, and CR 7950.

At Penasco Blanco, there are several great kivas, one specifically, is separated from the main ruin and actually lies across the park service fence in what is likely Navajo Reservation or BLM land. (What? Yes, of course I jumped the fence, shhhh don’t tell the Park Service or they may not rehire me.) In a future post I will spend more time on Penasco Blanco and all the wonders there but the clear relationship of a disassociated great kiva intended to serve as a gathering place for outlying smaller communities cannot be ignored. Casa Rinconada, the largest great kiva in Chaco Canyon would be another similar example of an isolated great kiva that comes to mind.

View inside the excavated great kiva of Casa Rinconada on the south side of Chaco Canyon. Pueblo Bonito lies across the wash in the distance at far left and Chettro Ketl in the center right distance, east of Bonito. View to the NE. Photo by M. Severson

This perspective is from the northern overhang, the lower of the two pictograph panels, showing a perspective of the size of the masks and their location. Notice the desert varnish coating the rocks that indicates that there has been water running down the rocks. This contributes to the general greater wear on the pictographs of the lower panel. The view is generally to the southwest. Photo by M. Severson

Finding the array of petroglyphs covering the naturally varnished panels above the site gave life to the ruin, showing much of the thought and dreams of the people who had dwelt there nearly a thousand years before. We walked along that high trail, scouring every flat surface for more rock art. Finally as I worked my way east, it seemed that the finding of the panels was at an end. But the trail went on around the corner and continued around to the east facing bluff. Could there be more glyphs? I had to know.

As I clambered through a notch formed by sandstone boulders that had tumbled down from above I looked up and stopped. I am sure my breathing literally stopped for a moment as I saw things I could not have imagined would be waiting there.

This is the upper panel, the first one you see as you come around the corner and climb between the rocks. There is little or no varnish on these rocks indicating this one is better protected from the elements. Photo by M. Severson

Spread out before me, larger than life and in vivid natural colors were masks, kok’ko masks. Animals, human representations and imaginary creatures surrounded me, wrapped around a slightly concave panel protected by a overhanging roof of stone. Beyond lay another array of masks that were slightly more exposed and so somewhat more weathered and yet nonetheless impressive in their stoic display.

My personal favorite, an ogre that I imagine is asking children if they are listening to their parents. Photo by M. Severson

Shalakos, ogres, animals masks, Comanches and other masks vied with each other for my attention as I sat down on a handy rock and at my leisure simply surveyed the amazing tableau. After perusing the pictographs for a time I began to notice evidence of other drawings that appeared more weathered and older than these. It set me to wondering if there were older paintings that had been replaced and also how long these panels may have been used. Thinking back to Penasco Blanco, anyone who has hiked that trail and seen the numerous petroglyphs that adorn the sandstone walls along the way can only begin to wonder at the lost art — the pictographs that once were left by the ancestral puebloan people in celebration of their lives and religious beliefs.

Various masks from the northern panel show more wear than those on the higher, more protected southern panel. Photo by M. Severson

From the southern panel a Shalako mask to the left. Photo by M. Severson

Notice the figure that stands to the right of this scary creature. To me, with its overall shape and posture, it appears to be a faint representation of another Shalako. This could indicate that these paintings are not a single work of one artist but a compendium of many over a longer period of time. Photo by M. Severson