I'm a little nervous about offending anyone on the Navajo tribal lands, so I brush up on do's and don'ts. The problem is that there are hundreds so I memorize a few of the most relevant. Most of them seem sensible or whimsical.
The Navajo guide leads us into the otherworldly slot canyon.
If a Coyote crosses your path, turn back and do not continue. If you keep traveling, something terrible will happen to you. You will be in an accident, hurt, or killed.
Don't point at a rainbow with your finger. The rainbow will cut it off or break it.
Don't throw rocks at a whirlwind. It will throw them back and chase you
Don't call whirlwinds a name. Evil Spirits will get you.
Do not roll a rock from a mountain. The holy people put them there and it will be bad luck.
Do not watch a river flowing swiftly, or you will get dizzy and fall in.
Do not run over a snake in your car or you will have a bad life.
Do not talk to dogs or other animals because they might talk back and you will die.
Do not say, "I wish I had some meat" when you have the hiccups or your livestock won't grow.
Do not eat frogs because you will have bad luck or bad breath.
Do not eat the heel of a loaf of bread or you will have lots of children.
Do not bite on roasting corn and then put it back or it will get cold and ruin the rest of your crop. Also, your teeth will fall out.
Do not burn blood from a nosebleed because you will get headaches and your head will split.
Do not have three people comb each other's hair at the same time or they will get stuck.
Do not turn pages backwards or you will go blind.
Do not peel potatoes or apples when you are pregnant or the baby will have a flat face.
Lake Powell is a huge lake created on the Colorado River by the Powell dam. It is about 100 miles long and winds though spectacular desert sandstone canyons.
The red sandstone rock here crumbles in your fingers. The softness allows the wind and rain to carve mysterious shapes.
Just to our south is the town of Page, Arizona. Page has tennis courts. We will get in a couple of sets this morning before meeting our Navajo guide to go into Antelope Canyon. The pix here are from our last visit to the canyon.
Downstream 20 Miles is Lee's Ferry, considered to be the beginning of the Grand Canyon. The raft trips there last from 3 days to 2 weeks. They tend to be booked up a year in advance. We'll check into it, but we don't expect much.
This land was confiscated from the surrounding Navajo Reservation when the Federal Government decided that a dam and lake would be a good idea. Apparently, these treaties can be unilaterally renegotiated. In the Navajo Nation, not walking near the edge of cliffs is taught as a taboo so that the creatures who throw people down the cliffs won't grab you. I respect that.
Navajo Tribal Park, Arizona
We decided to go back for seconds today. It would be great to catch a rainbow or impressive sunset behind the monuments, but it was not meant to be.
We were out hiking in the canyons this morning and caught this desert wildflower.
This rock is called "Mexican Hat". It appears to be well-balanced.
Mrs. Phred is standing on John Ford Point. This an outcropping with a panoramic view where John set up his cameras to film John Wayne in "Stagecoach".
The spire on the right is called the "Totem Pole". It has a diameter of 75 feet at the top. This is where Ray Charles and his grand piano made a commercial.
What a place of amazing beauty. I would live here if I were lucky enough to be a Navajo.
We had dinner at the trading post. The red wine was non-alcoholic since no intoxicating beverages are allowed on Navajo land. I had a green chile and pork stew with traditional Navajo bread. Mrs. Phred got a strange pepper with her meal. It was sweet on the tip and got hotter toward the stem. They played soft flute music though the meal as the sun went down.
This is Susie. Susie is 91 years old. She is a Navajo. Susie never went to school and speaks no English. Here Susie is washing some wool from her herd of sheep. After the wool is washed, combed and rolled into twine, it then has to be dyed, using native plants. Then Susie will spend seven months making a 2'x5' rug from the dyed wool. Susie has 42 grandchildren who take turns coming out to help her with her herd and bring her water and other supplies.
Susie lives in a hogan made of cypress logs and red mud. She doesn't have electricity or running water. The hogan has a doorway facing east and a square hole in the roof for light and for the chimney of her wood-burning stove. In the picture above, Susie is partly in sunlight from the roof opening.
Tom brought us here. Tom is about my age. As he talks, we learn that Tom is one of Susie's sons. Tom has spent his entire life in this valley. Tom has five brothers and a sister. He grew up in a hogan like this and went out every morning to herd sheep. Tom probably has no difficulty with the concept of "home".
Well I'm here to deliver
I hope you can read my mail
I just escaped last night
From the memory county jail
-Neil Young
In a flippant mood, I tell people that home is where my wheels are. We've been driving around for 2 1/2 years with no fixed address.
When I think of home and what it means, I have to separate past home, present home and future home. I was born in Ithaca, New York. When I go back there, I feel that I've gone home. Cayuga lake is 55 degrees in July. When you plunge into the lake the cold water in your nose will tell you you've arrived home like an aging salmon returned to spawn.
Mrs. Phred and I have been married 42 years (there's that number again). We've lived in a number of homes. The longest stretch was in a home in Tampa where we watched our son grow up. It was a friendly place and the neighbors often gathered for evening porch parties and shared wine and appetizers. The little kid next door liked me and brought me copies of his all his new "Captain Underpants" books. I made copies of his favorite music on my computer for his friends. He helped me bottle wine. It was home: a place of shelter, comfort and family.
Right here and now, in the present, home really is where my wheels are. Mrs. Phred is here. When we wake up we have to always remind each other where we are today. Some present homes are more interesting, others less so. Forgive me gentle readers, but home is where the heart is.
There may be other future homes, but my ultimate home is a dark, forboding island off the coast of Oregon. It is an abandoned light house where they store urns in what currently passes for perpetuity. My friend, Andy, has made a sacred promise to me. Wherever I die, he will fly in and pack me in salt and wrap me in a tarp. Then he will rent a mule and a wagon and take me to Oregon to be cremated and stored on my island.
On the balance, home and love are similar concepts. Everyone talks about them, but the definitions are slippery.
There is one spire here where they took a helicopter and put Ray Charles and a piano on the top.
If you come to Monument Valley, book a tour with a Navajo. You get into the Navajo Tribal park and see things and places you couldn't see on your own. It's hard to stop taking pictures. Here are 148 pictures of Monument Valley. If you examine them all, consider getting a life.
These pictures were taken today in Antelope Canyon. I think you will find them unusual.
The canyon is a type of canyon called a 'slot canyon'. To visit the canyon, which lies within the Navaho Nation, you must hire a native guide... most of them are very adept at digital photography.
On the ride out to the canyon with our large Navaho guide and another couple from Missouri, we pass signs that prohibit entry to the area without a native guide. These signs cite both US and tribal laws. The young couple we are with joke and say 'What are they going to do? Put us in a sweat lodge?; Our Navaho guide gently reminds them that some things are sacred.
The young Missouri man says that (PC) political correctness has gone too far when the only safe subject for jokes is stupid white men. My neck prickles in embarrassment and I quickly change the subject and ask the Navaho guide what impact the big dam has had on the local area.
The guide explains that the dam is in the middle of the huge Navaho nation reservation and that the land was arbitrarily retaken by the government to build the dam. He explains that almost all Navahos live in house trailers because they have no fixed rights to the land they live on and may need to move at any time. He explains that land rights are based on the number of grazing animals owned and may be readjusted.
In the slot canyon the guide stays close to me to point out good shots and helps me set my digital camera to get the best results. A tri-pod would have been great. I had to delete lots of great shots because of blurred pictures caused by limited light, but the good ones are spectacular. The Navaho guide says he has learned about digital photography by playing with cameras.
The slot canyon is a catchment for forty miles of rainfall. A small flood deposits several feet of sand on the slot canyon floor and a large one might remove ten feet of sand. It's one of the most unusual and beautiful geological formations I've ever seen. It's like a sandstone swirled cave with the top removed.
The Page/Lake Powell hot air balloon festival begins at dawn.
