Pictographs
Created | Updated Aug 21, 2003
"The last traditional chief built his house there," explained the guide pointing to a heap of charred logs next to a cliff with horses painted on the wall. "Some people didn't like the idea of setting aside this land for a tribal park, so they set fire to the house and burned it to the ground."
"They like the idea now, right?" asked Analiese.
"Yep, they sure do. People change their minds sometimes," answered the guide. "But it's funny sometimes when I bring tourists through here and show them this place and the pictures he made on the rock, they don't seem real interested."
"Maybe he hasn't been dead long enough?"
"You're probably right, child. Come. I want to show you something else they find a whole lot more interesting."
And with that the guide and Analiese mounted their horses and followed the dry wash a mile or two until they came to another big cliff. On the cliff was a whole bunch of pictures painted on or etched into the sandstone.
After they had dismounted, the guide climbed up to the base of the cliff. Analiese followed.
"There," he said. "Lookee there. That's something 'ennit?"
"Yep," replied Analiese. "Somebody was pretty busy, heh?"
"I usually ask the tourist how they think all those pictures got way up there."
"What do they say?"
"Some think the people dropped down on ropes from the top and others think they floated or flew up from the bottom."
"What do you think?"
"Well, I don't know but I think maybe they used ladders or tree trunks with the limbs still attached like that one we passed on the way up here."
"Makes sense. And what do you think they were trying to tell people with all those pictures?"
"The tourists ask that too sometimes. Lookee here."
The guide pointed to a portion of the pictures where a man was standing with a long staff surrounded by rows of corn and deer and mountain sheep and a long squiggly line that reminded Analiese of the dry wash they had just followed.
"What do they make of that do you think?" asked the guide.
"I don't have a clue. What?"
"Mostly they say it's one of the Anasazi gods standing in the center of the world sort of managing things."
"That's sort of a weird interpretation."
"Maybe. But then I show them what the stick's for."
The guide walked over to a small overhang that protected a little shelf in the rock and retrieved a long stick. He then motioned Analiese to follow as he walked back down the slope towards the dry wash where a huge flat topped boulder was half buried.
After searching the surface of the boulder for a few moments he spied something. Carefully he brushed the dirt out of a small hole that had been drilled in the rock, then he placed the stick in the hole.
"There, you see?"
"Yep, how'd you find it?"
"It was in the picture, sort of worn but still kind of recognizable. The archeologist was impressed pretty good too."
"I bet he was," remarked Analiese.
"He wasn't sure where the marks were," continued the guide. "So he hired some astronomer from the University of Boulder or whatever it is to come here and find them."
"And did he?"
"Well, he didn't say exactly but I figured the corn and animals were clues. Well, he spent six months coming out every morning and evening and sometimes during the day too with one of those surveying things and a tape measure.
He watched the shadows the sun made with it and sighted on different peaks or cliffs you can see from here. Then he'd write things in a notebook."
"So did he find anything then?"
"Like I said he didn't say. I found some things though. Things in the land that you can see where the sun comes up or goes down at different seasons. Like if you sight across the stick towards that south peak on Ute Mountain you'll see the sun go down when it's time to harvest the pinenuts. And if you come out after dark you can see different stars over different peaks or cliffs too."
"So maybe all those pictures are like notes people were taking sort of like that astronomer, huh?"
"Maybe, because you can see them pretty clear even from here. Heck you can even see them in the dark. Pretty interesting 'ennit?"
"Yep, pretty interesting. So what did the archeologist say about all this?"
"He's thinking about it. That's all he's saying."
"Well, I hope he doesn't think too much. He might miss something."
The guide chuckled at that.
"I hear ya, Analiese, I hear ya. Seems like sometimes they want to make it fit into some worldwide great big something or other that shows how it relates to what they figure they thought about first."
"Well, they probably did. They're good at thinking about things first don't you think?"
The guide chuckled again.
"Yep, fitting that cliff into it is going to take a good deal of trimming and shaping I think."
"Well, let's hope they don't need no jackhammers."
Analiese pulled the stick out of the hole and handed it back to the guide.
"Did you ask the Elders at the Hopi towns about it?" she inquired.
"Yep, and one of them even visited. He had a lot to say about it, mostly how he thinks it would still work pretty good maybe."
"I can feel the power here," exclaimed Analiese.
"Me too," agreed the guide. "I ask the tourists about that too."
"What do they feel?"
"Don't feel nothing I guess. They look at me kind of funny, like maybe they don't get what I'm asking?"
"Oh well, it's hard to explain, right?"
"I guess I could draw them a picture, couldn't I?"
"Maybe, if you had some crayons to paint by the numbers."
"What? What do you mean by that, Analiese?"
"If you were a tourist, you'd probably figure it out. Numbers tell everything."
"I didn't know that."
"I didn't either, but apparently that's how you figure out things according to some people."
The guide and Analiese then sat down on a old log in the dry wash and ate some jerky and dried berries. A hawk whistled overhead.
"I've seen him before," said the guide.
"Me too," said Analiese.
"Oh yeah? Where?" asked the guide.
"Painted on that cliff of course."
"I shoulda known."
"Yep."
They watched the hawk circle to the northwest, to where the pinenuts were ripening below the Shining Mountain and they admired the power of it, and the wonder too.
Then they rode together back toward the town as the sun dropped below the south peak of Ute Mountain.
"They like the idea now, right?" asked Analiese.
"Yep, they sure do. People change their minds sometimes," answered the guide. "But it's funny sometimes when I bring tourists through here and show them this place and the pictures he made on the rock, they don't seem real interested."
"Maybe he hasn't been dead long enough?"
"You're probably right, child. Come. I want to show you something else they find a whole lot more interesting."
And with that the guide and Analiese mounted their horses and followed the dry wash a mile or two until they came to another big cliff. On the cliff was a whole bunch of pictures painted on or etched into the sandstone.
After they had dismounted, the guide climbed up to the base of the cliff. Analiese followed.
"There," he said. "Lookee there. That's something 'ennit?"
"Yep," replied Analiese. "Somebody was pretty busy, heh?"
"I usually ask the tourist how they think all those pictures got way up there."
"What do they say?"
"Some think the people dropped down on ropes from the top and others think they floated or flew up from the bottom."
"What do you think?"
"Well, I don't know but I think maybe they used ladders or tree trunks with the limbs still attached like that one we passed on the way up here."
"Makes sense. And what do you think they were trying to tell people with all those pictures?"
"The tourists ask that too sometimes. Lookee here."
The guide pointed to a portion of the pictures where a man was standing with a long staff surrounded by rows of corn and deer and mountain sheep and a long squiggly line that reminded Analiese of the dry wash they had just followed.
"What do they make of that do you think?" asked the guide.
"I don't have a clue. What?"
"Mostly they say it's one of the Anasazi gods standing in the center of the world sort of managing things."
"That's sort of a weird interpretation."
"Maybe. But then I show them what the stick's for."
The guide walked over to a small overhang that protected a little shelf in the rock and retrieved a long stick. He then motioned Analiese to follow as he walked back down the slope towards the dry wash where a huge flat topped boulder was half buried.
After searching the surface of the boulder for a few moments he spied something. Carefully he brushed the dirt out of a small hole that had been drilled in the rock, then he placed the stick in the hole.
"There, you see?"
"Yep, how'd you find it?"
"It was in the picture, sort of worn but still kind of recognizable. The archeologist was impressed pretty good too."
"I bet he was," remarked Analiese.
"He wasn't sure where the marks were," continued the guide. "So he hired some astronomer from the University of Boulder or whatever it is to come here and find them."
"And did he?"
"Well, he didn't say exactly but I figured the corn and animals were clues. Well, he spent six months coming out every morning and evening and sometimes during the day too with one of those surveying things and a tape measure.
He watched the shadows the sun made with it and sighted on different peaks or cliffs you can see from here. Then he'd write things in a notebook."
"So did he find anything then?"
"Like I said he didn't say. I found some things though. Things in the land that you can see where the sun comes up or goes down at different seasons. Like if you sight across the stick towards that south peak on Ute Mountain you'll see the sun go down when it's time to harvest the pinenuts. And if you come out after dark you can see different stars over different peaks or cliffs too."
"So maybe all those pictures are like notes people were taking sort of like that astronomer, huh?"
"Maybe, because you can see them pretty clear even from here. Heck you can even see them in the dark. Pretty interesting 'ennit?"
"Yep, pretty interesting. So what did the archeologist say about all this?"
"He's thinking about it. That's all he's saying."
"Well, I hope he doesn't think too much. He might miss something."
The guide chuckled at that.
"I hear ya, Analiese, I hear ya. Seems like sometimes they want to make it fit into some worldwide great big something or other that shows how it relates to what they figure they thought about first."
"Well, they probably did. They're good at thinking about things first don't you think?"
The guide chuckled again.
"Yep, fitting that cliff into it is going to take a good deal of trimming and shaping I think."
"Well, let's hope they don't need no jackhammers."
Analiese pulled the stick out of the hole and handed it back to the guide.
"Did you ask the Elders at the Hopi towns about it?" she inquired.
"Yep, and one of them even visited. He had a lot to say about it, mostly how he thinks it would still work pretty good maybe."
"I can feel the power here," exclaimed Analiese.
"Me too," agreed the guide. "I ask the tourists about that too."
"What do they feel?"
"Don't feel nothing I guess. They look at me kind of funny, like maybe they don't get what I'm asking?"
"Oh well, it's hard to explain, right?"
"I guess I could draw them a picture, couldn't I?"
"Maybe, if you had some crayons to paint by the numbers."
"What? What do you mean by that, Analiese?"
"If you were a tourist, you'd probably figure it out. Numbers tell everything."
"I didn't know that."
"I didn't either, but apparently that's how you figure out things according to some people."
The guide and Analiese then sat down on a old log in the dry wash and ate some jerky and dried berries. A hawk whistled overhead.
"I've seen him before," said the guide.
"Me too," said Analiese.
"Oh yeah? Where?" asked the guide.
"Painted on that cliff of course."
"I shoulda known."
"Yep."
They watched the hawk circle to the northwest, to where the pinenuts were ripening below the Shining Mountain and they admired the power of it, and the wonder too.
Then they rode together back toward the town as the sun dropped below the south peak of Ute Mountain.
