I slept in that trailer long ago, spent a winter sitting by a roaring wood stove and sneaking peeks at Playboy magazines in the shed nearby. That shed collapsed long ago, it’s green shingled roof now covering worm eaten books and all those pretty girls and who knows what other once-upon-a-time treasures. I can see the old freezer where once we stashed the butchered remains of a cow hit by a car and left on the side of the road to die. There is a box of old hand guns in there as well as several rifles. More piles of rotting clothes, twisted leather shoes, canning jars with rusted lids, several suitcases, a leather satchel so aged and weather beaten it disintegrated in my hand when I tried to pick it up.

The ground around the shed is littered with washing machines, stoves, row boats, lawn mowers, metal chairs, a swing set, ladders, and tools of every kind. There are metal garage doors, a pile of sheet-metal roofing strips, rolls of aluminum wire and steel cable and enough automotive parts to build a whole, if somewhat weird looking, car, as if the eight or nine rusted hulks I’ve so far found in this Floridian jungle weren’t enough junk cars already.

Not far from the shed, the all but buried remains of another out building becomes one with the earth. I slaughtered rabbits and cleaned catfish there long ago. From what I can see of it now, it looks as though my mother may have converted it to a small green house. Numerous panes of glass, rows of red clay pots merge into the darkness beneath a thick canopy of green. I’m told she planted the giant Magnolia tree that stretches skyward amidst the tall Pines and Oaks draped in Spanish Moss and I’ve noticed other plants growing wild amongst the dense ground cover that I suspect aren’t natural to this area. She was into growing things, my Ma. That’s one of the few things I know about her.

There’s 30,000 square feet to this property, nearly an acre of land. What I’ve described above sits on maybe a quarter of that. The grand tour continues in a couple of days. Y’all come back now, ya hear?

In geologic time, the volcanic eruptions in this area are fairly recent, occurring during the last three million years. The most recent of these were late enough to have impacted early humans occupying the area, an occupation that goes back to about 10,000 BC, and creating some interesting legends.

Hot, black lava-blood flowed from the eyes of the angry KauBat’. His sons, the Twins, had blinded their father to punish him for his ruthless gambling. He had wagered with their people until they were destitute.

Now the Twins watched awestruck as the foul liquid poured from KauBat’s eyesockets, chasing them home to the pueblo where they were born. The mass of lava curled into deep ravines and wide canyons. Heat waves wore paths into the sky and singed the feathers of birds flying overhead. The curious raven flew too close and was instantly turned the color of charcoal.

The kachina’s thick lava-blood destroyed all that lay in its path. As it cooled, it solidified into serpentine ropes and cresting waves of black rock. Eons of rain and snow had little effect on the frozen lava-stone.

El Malpais as it is today was created by lava flows pouring from some thirty volcanoes and more than eighty vents and spatter cones. This is some serious rock strewn about and you wouldn’t think anything could grow here and yet life has a way of overcoming all obstacles. On the surface you’ll find aspen, pinyon and juniper growing alongside towering ponderosa and Douglas fir.

Cactus and Lichen of all sorts thrive here as well.

But the land is harsh and not everything survives.

As the lava flowed from what is known as the Bandera Crater, it was confined to channels created by older lava flows and, as the outer layer cooled and hardened, this flow created a miles long lava tube system. Seventeen miles, in fact, one of the longest in the Continental United States. Over the years, portions of these tubes collapsed forming rubble strewn ravines with the occasional lava bridge across them.

In some places the lava flow cut deep into the earth creating lava tube caves. Two of the most spectacular caves at El Malpais are Big Skylight Cave and Four Windows Cave located in the Big Tubes area. Caving is a serious business and should always be approached in a serious manner. Hardhats, flashlights, signaling devices, gloves and a first aid kit are a must. A complete lack of claustrophobia is also helpful. Below we see the inadequately attired author of this post making a graceful entrance into Four Windows Cave.

The microenvironments inside these caves are very delicate. Light flowing into Four Windows Cave has created an area where spiders, mites, crickets and other small critters flourish in a garden of mossy green.

Venturing further into the cave can give new meaning to ‘things that go bump in the night’. Here you’ll find blind crickets, bats and other assorted critters that have adapted to a lightless world. You probably won’t see them, of course, but you sure can hear them if you venture in far enough. The next two pics were taken deep inside Junction Cave in the El Calderon area. The first is with benefit of a camera flash. The second shows what the cave really looks like to the human eye. It should be noted that the author’s screams did not echo.

Along the eastern edge of El Malpais, towering sandstone bluffs rise above the valley of lava stone. The Sandstone Bluffs consist of gently dipping, Jurassic and Cretaceous-age sandstone that crops out along the eastern flank of the Cebollita Mesa.

Summer monsoonal thunderstorms create pools in the sandstone, called tinajas, that host spadefoot toads tadpoles, tadpole shrimp, fairy shrimp, and aquatic insects.

I got here late in the day and had little chance to do much more than scamper over a small portion of what this area has to offer. I’ll have to save the rest for another time.

Technorati Tags: El Malpais National Monument, El Malpais, New Mexico

The multi-storied structures in the canyon were built more than a thousand years ago by the Anasazis, the ancestors of Pueblo Indians. The earliest of these structures, Pueblo Bonito and Una Vita, were started around 850 AD while those such as Kin Kletso, Wijiji and Tsin Kletzin were begun as late as 1100 A.D. By 1250 A.D. the buildings were abandoned and everyone was gone, leaving behind a grand mystery for archeologists and anthropologists to chew on and argue over.

The Chacoans quarried the stone for their Great Houses from nearby cliffs. During the early construction periods, 850 – 1100 A.D., they used the harder, darker, tabular stone found in thinly bedded sheets atop the cliffs. Note the fine core and veneer masonry work used in the construction of these earlier structures, some of which reached five stories. During the later construction period, 1100 – 1150 A.D., they switched to a softer, tan-colored sandstone from the lower walls of the canyon. If you look carefully at the pic below, an example of the earlier building technique, you might notice an ancient Chacoan peeking through the window. Or not.

In this next pic you can see the two different styles side by side. The main wall is in the earlier style while the shorter walls are from the later period. The speculation is that in later years the main wall began to lean and later Chacoan people built buttresses, in the later style, to stabilize it.

Kivas are an important part of the Chacoan (and Puebloan) culture and can be found in nearly every community. The kivas are round, subterranean structures used for religious worship. Kivas had a low masonry bench around the base of the room, raised floor vaults, a raised firebox and deflector, pits for seating wooden or masonry roof support pillars and an antechamber and entryway at plaza level. The Great Kivas often contained a set of wall niches possibly used for offerings and sacred objects.

You’re not suppose to actually get this close to a kiva but I had to save a beetle I saw crawling around in that aluminum tub in the kiva at Casa Rinconada. And no, the tub is not original to the structure.

The Chocoans were into their rock art or Petroglyphs, as they’re called. You’ll find these all over the southwest. There are those that refer to them as ancient graffiti but that, of course, will bring looks of consternation from some folks.

In the pics below, note the stylistic difference between ancient man and modern. So as not to confuse, modern man is wearing a hat.

The spiral was a real big deal symbol all over the Southwest. Anywhere you find Petroglyphs, you’ll find spirals.

Another thing you’ll find all over Chaco are pot shards. You’re not suppose to collect these things and all the good stuff was long ago hauled away. But it’s ok to photograph them. The pieces in this pic are a thousand years old.

As is true across the Southwest, the wind is almost a constant thing, creating strange and wondrous sculptures.

There are a number of archeoastronomical markers at Chaco Canyon, the most famous being the Sun Dagger found high atop Fajada Butte. Three vertical slabs of sandstone, which fell from the top of the butte centuries ago, are aligned in such a way that a thin dagger of sunlight pierces the cliff at noon each day. The Anasazis carved two spirals into the rock and at approximately noon on the summer solstice, the light of the Sun Dagger falls on the middle of the larger spiral. At the winter solstice, two shafts of light bracket the outer edges of that same spiral. At the spring and autumn equinoxes, a smaller shaft of light bisects the smaller spiral. See the Hoodoo at the top left of the butte? The sandstone slabs and etched spirals are just to the right of that. I would love to go up and actually see this but the butte is closed to the public.

I really enjoyed exploring Chaco Canyon and plan to go back again as some of the features are quite a hike and I didn’t have enough time to visit them all. As for my earlier remark about the SUV, all I can say is I simply do not understand why people think they are so safe. The thing was huge, a pain in the ass to drive, got lousy gas mileage and at every little puff of wind I felt like the whole damn thing was going to roll over on its back. I just wish my Altima could handle the road to Chaco but that thing has a clearance that could clip the top of an ants head and no way would it make it over the road leading into the canyon.

Technorati Tags: Chaco, Chaco Canyon, Anasazi, Pueblo Indians, New Mexico

Between the Bisti and the De-Na-Zin Wilderness to the east, the Badlands (Bisti means Badlands in Navajo) occupy 38,381 acres of some of the most bizarre country you can imagine. Sloping hills of red, gray and black, windswept passages, hoodoos and weird rock formation abound. Once the bed of an ancient sea, when the water receded, prehistoric animals made Bisti their home. When the last of the water disappeared, a 1,400-foot-thick layer of jumbled sandstone, mudstone, shale, and coal lay undisturbed for 50 million years. The receding of the last ice age left behind exposed fossils and eroded the rock into fantastic hoodoos. Today, the ground is soft and yielding, covered in multi-colored rocks, petrified wood and the bone and tooth fragments of the enormous beasts that once roamed this land.

Here is something you don’t see too often, or for too long, in the Badlands: Water.

Precipitation in the Bisti area averages a mere eight inches a year, and usually comes in July and August when temperatures rise to melting highs. When a downpour does occur, the soil, typically baked to ceramic hardness by the sun, softens into a slippery, yielding substance. The last time I was here in late fall, the ground was as hard and dry as the bones you find scattered about. New Mexico saw some heavy spring rain the week before I made this latest trip and the water had cut deep channels and turned the ground into shoe sucking mush.

If you’re not into serious quiet, the Bisti might get on your nerves. There ain’t a whole lot of life here beyond some plants and a handful of lizards, snakes, tarantulas, and scorpions. There aren’t even birds flying overhead most time. About the only tracks you ever see are those of other humans and the occasional dog or horse.

The wind blows almost constantly across the Badlands resulting in some bizarre twisting of plants and strange rock formations.

Sometimes the wind can get quite creative.

And, after a long day of hiking, there’s nothing like a comfy chair to relax in.

Quarai, along with Abo and Gran Quivira, are part of the Salinas Pueblo Missions which the Spanish more or less forced down the throats of the Tiwa Indians back in 17th century. The original name for the area was Kuah-aye. The Spanish mission at Quarai was built in 1629 and abandoned for lack of water around 1671. The Tiwa Indians had been around the area since the 1300s.

Quarai is about 30+ miles south of Albuquerque, 8+ miles north of the town of Mountainair. It was, as I expected, deserted when I got there. There is something profoundly peaceful about being in the ruins when no other humans are present. After walking the trails for a bit, meandering through the house blocks and visiting the Kiva, I settled in the main part of the old church and played my flute.

I just started playing the flute a couple of weeks back so I’m not all that good at it yet. Did a rousing rendition of Mary Had A Little Lamb, though. I have that tune down! Since I had my practice book with me, I played a couple of traditional native style melodies as well. They didn’t sound too bad. Hopefully next year will find my playing improved.