Acoma
Our first stop was Acoma, (Ac'a-ma). The area has been inhabited for some 2,000 years and is the home of Sky City that is known as the oldest inhabited community in the United States. A small settlement that was built about 1100 A.D atop a butte that rises 370 feet above the high desert floor. Included in the community is San Esteban del Rey Mission and Convent, begun in 1629. Built of adobe with pinon pine vigas (the distinctive roof beams that you see jut from the side of the buildings in the southwest) under the direction of the Franciscan Friar Juan Ramirez, it was the Acamo people who built the magnificent 22,000 square foot compound that was completed in 1640.

Now a Save America’s Treasures Site, it includes a cemetery that has been in use so long that there are 40 feet of overlaid graves going back to the origin of the mission. Still in use for dignitaries only, the cemetery is surrounded by an adobe wall and upon the wall are a series of faces also made of adobe that the elements erode through the year. But each face is renewed every year in September by the children of the community.

Standing there surrounded by the spirits of long ago and being able to see for miles in every direction does something to your heart and soul. The feeling becomes more and more familiar as you travel the desert stopping at the ruins of the ancient civilizations. You marvel at the tenacity of the people that have gone before, at the their ability to build a city on top of their part of the world and sustain it for not years, but centuries.

Spending the night at the Sky City Hotel and Casino about ten miles from the site, I enjoyed not only a wonderful dinner and a spacious room, but went into the casino, found a nickel slot machine, put ten dollars in it, played for three hours and came out with $30! I was indeed a happy camper.

None of the reservations allow alcohol and you may not bring it in even in your luggage. If you carry some, leave it locked in your car trunk or whatever conveyance you’re traveling in.

El Morro
Ever onward to El Morro, a National Monument once described as On the main east-west trail, dating from antiquity, rises a great sandstone promontory with a pool of water at its base. According to the excellent brochure put out by the National Park Service, it is said there are over 2,000 petroglyphs inscribed on the sandstone walls dating back to the Zuni ancestors Anasazi who called the cliff the A’ts’ina or places of writings on the rock to about 1200 AD. Every passer-by -- Spanish explorers and gold seekers -- along with later soldiers and mapmakers of our new territory continued drawing until it was prohibited in 1906.

That night in the brief period between waking and full sleep, I knew the meanings of a couple of the petroglyphs; the spiral indicated our Milky Way Galaxy and the saw-toothed line showed mountains. I dreamt of ancient people and their indecipherable language and awoke knowing my brilliant idea of the spiral and line were a result of wishful thinking. One of the petroglyphs did tickle me though. A tailless animal with wheels for feet. I have a bird like that, done by my then three-year-old granddaughter. Who knows, perhaps she had an atavistic memory still lurking in her newest memory.

Dinner at Earl’s, a down home southwest style restaurant, was where I acquired something I’d coveted since living in Arizona as a child, a beautiful silver and turquoise concho belt. The local Native Americans are allowed to set up tables on the porch of the restaurant and one at a time show their handcrafted items to the guests, like a fashion show in the fancy restaurants in the east. If a diner wishes to purchase they may but this is not a bazaar where you are hassled and hustled. The artisan is willing to share but he/she know their works need no sales pitch as the quality and reasonable price tags are all that is needed. The food is good, too.

The next day I found my way to the Cultural Center of Gallup, a Project of the Southwest Indian Foundation that also has a beautiful art gallery. One of the highlights is a larger than life bronze sculpture of one of the famous World War II Windtalkers, the Navajo masters of code. The director, Kent Hodges, said the center is the repository for the archives of the Windtalkers. There is plenty of beautiful art in the gallery and in the gift shop on the first floor. I did get in a bit of shopping while there, too, but I missed the walking tour led by a 78-year-old lady born and raised in Gallup. I had about funned my self to death and needed a rest.

Farmington
The following morning it was on to the town of Farmington, stopping off on the way at the famous Hogback Trading Post that has an outstanding selection of beautiful hand crafted silver and turquoise jewelry and hand woven Navajo rugs by some of today’s best weavers. There is also an interesting small private museum on the second floor. If you’re out that way, don’t miss it.

Finding the lunch hour upon me via my growling tummy I opted for the Los Hermanitos restaurant to try the local fare -- different and very good. Then on to the Gateway Park Museum and Visitors Center where they were setting up for a large affair that evening which would include the awarding of prizes for the art on display. The director, Bart Wilsey led me through the museum and then in through some odd doors where we experienced an excellent simulation of what it would be like to be an oil drilling bit digging a new well. With narration, video and the movement of the capsule it was a really cool exhibit!

Chaco Canyon
Chaco Canyon, which has been on my list of “things to do before I die,” lies almost due north of the Acamo Reservation and you wonder, too, at the mental and physical skill of the people that built the nine Great Houses of Chaco Canyon between A.D. 900 and 1115. These are not the Cliff Dwellings we see in Mesa Verde, Colorado, but structures on the desert floor backed up to a cliff.

One of the Great Houses, Pueblo Bonito, lies at the base of a 100 foot cliff upon which are carved hundreds of petroglyphs. The largest of the Great Houses, some of the walls that remain are four to five stories high and it is said it had more than 650 rooms with only a few of the rooms being homes to people. Pueblo Bonito, built of sandstone blocks fitted together tightly they are very strong and the walls are thick at the base tapering as they rise.

Standing on the site of the pueblo you have a sweeping full circle view of the San Juan Basin and the current theory for the “why” of abandonment is the climate has changed through the years and the inhabitants simply used up all their resources and moved on leaving their undecipherable messages (to us, anyway) on the cliff walls in the form of circles, squiggles, lines and animals. Although the later inscriptions are in Spanish and English and can be read easily.

The trip home gave me time to rest and think about all I had seen in the last few days. Having had a great interest in ancient civilizations, and none whatsoever in recent — 400 years — history, I have covered a good bit of the world exploring and trying to understand how the people lived, progressed, regressed and died. From China to Turkey to Greece to Central America and along the Maya trail it seems each place conjures feelings that remain from long ago. I have felt great joy emanating from the Acropolis at Lindos on Rhodes, to such anger as to become fearful at Chichén Itza.

My advice; take a month, follow the trails that beckon you along the way, stop and stare at the incredible sky, the vast desert that stretches as far as the eye can see and beyond. Sit and listen to the silence and the small inner voices that tell you no matter where you come from, you are connected to the Ancient Ones and know the peace this brings you.

Then go out and spend money on the tourista stuff!