Our tour of Monument Valley began at 8:45am. We were the only people on the small, converted 4 wheel drive truck when we set off but the driver stopped to pick up a group of people at Goulding’s Lodge, only a few minutes away. The lodge is an alternative for those not wanting to slum it in an RV or a tent! It has its own indoor swimming pool and operates just like a hotel as far as we can see. Fourteen passengers were on the truck by the time we were ready to set off.
One of the great selling points of this tour was that we were being driven and guided by a genuine Navajo Indian, who lives and works locally and knows all the main monuments and sacred sites intimately. Rachel and I speculated on his Navajo name: was it something that depicted his status in local society, like Running Bull or something more mundane, like Sitting Duck? We have to confess that we were slightly disappointed when he was introduced as Robert! Not even Robert Trail Finder or Robert Storm Tamer – just plain old Robert.
Robert gave an introduction to our tour and whetted our appetite with a list of things we would see -things related to film-making (Kit Carsen, Billy The Kid, How The West Was Won, Back to the Future 3, Thelma and Louise etc), monuments renamed by Kit Carsen himself (an ‘Indian Fighter’) like El Capitan, others named after soldiers serving under Kit like Mitchell Butte and Merrick Butte. Later I looked up the word Butte. It means ‘an isolated hill or mountain rising abruptly above the surrounding land’.
We headed down to the junction of the main Interstate, which we came in on yesterday but turned off towards the Navalo Tribal Park. It has an entrance fee but our tour ticket included the entry price. Moments after entering the park we turned onto a dirt track past a sign that said ‘Closed’. We wound our way through an increasingly rough and undulating path while Robert pointed out the main attractions along the way. He seemed to take care to point out giant rocks that looked like something else: an elephant, for example, “we call this Elephant Rock” or a face “We call this Alfred Hitchcock Rock”. This raised a few chuckles. All the rocks and mountains were either named after someone who lived in the past and had some significance to the Navajo, or looked like something you would recognise, like Totem Pole. Totem Pole was an impossibly thin and tall rock, all that was left after millions of years exposed to the elements.
We made stops along the way, where there were stalls set out with Navajo jewellery: the people who made them were selling them to the tourists. Tables were set up in the desert along the edge of the paths we took and it was clearly a way for these people to bring in a captive audience and make some money. It’s interesting to note how the Navajo all look alike to some degree. It’s obviously the result of their common genes passed down through the years but their faces are slightly flattened around the nose and eyes and makes for an upright forehead. Some of the children we saw with their parents at the stalls were absolutley beautiful. They helped package whatever jewellery the tourists bought with entheusiasm and must have to spend all day in the desert heat to help their parents. We later wondered why they weren’t at school. We never found out.
As is usually the case with Rachel, about half way around the three and a half hour tour she needed the loo. And anyone who knows Rachel will know that that means NOW! This time, however, we were in the middle of the most forbidding desert we have ever seen and so could not just nip into the nearest McDonalds for a wee. She asked Robert if there was a public toilet in this remote forbidding desert and there’s no prizes for guessing what the answer was. By now the leg was twitching and panic was setting in. This could get ugly. At the next stop we got out of the truck and Rachel was off looking for the loos. Unfortunately, there was only a few makeshift sheds and an old caravan and a horse, which was $2 to have your photo taken on. This didn’t help. By now Rachel was doing a bit of a jig around the site. Robert must have seen that she was beginning to draw attention to herself and was drawing a crowd (probably thinking this was some sort of Navajo weather dance) and suggested she head off into the rattlesnake infested, scorched desert to find a place to wee. Which, rattlesnakes or not, she promptly did. She walked in the most dignified way she could and eventually disappeared behind a clump of rocks.
While Rachel was away I broke the ice with Robert, mainly by making fun of Rachel, and asked him about the Navajo. Turns out that the little money they are able to take from making and selling their jewellery is the only income many of then have. He told me of his earlier life having to travel long distances to find work and hardly ever seeing his family. There are very few jobs in this region. However, I’m not sure about the other 60 million acres that make up the Navajo Nation.
Soon Rachel reappeared and calm returned once more. From now on the Navajo have a new monument – called Rachel’s Butte! Within an hour she wanted to go again!
We stopped at a Hogan – a traditional Navajo hut, where we were given a weaving demonstration by an elderly lady sat on some rugs inside. It can take up to five months to weave a rug that would fit in front of your fireplace. Traditions are being revived by teaching children how to do this. She also sang a traditional Navajo song while we all looked on. We learned that the Hogan’s door always faces east to greet the rising sun. They believe that you are blessed if you are an early riser. And it’s a good tip to look for Hogans if you are ever lost in this desert because you can always tell which direction is east from the position of the door. Next the lady wanted to demonstrate how Navajo women (and men) have their hair done and looked for someone to help her demonstration. Maybe it was because of her immaculate hair or her spiritual beauty (or possibly because whe was in direct line of sight – we may never know), she chose Rachel. She had to sit on the floor and have her hair brushed using straw, bound together to form a brush. We learned that Navajo wear their pony tails long if they are unmarried and bound up short with wool if they are married. Rachel’s hair was put into a short ponytail using orange wool.
We stopped to view some stunning rock patterns and formations. Some giant rocks had holes right through them,caused by the action of water millions of years ago. It’s hard to believe that this place was once covered with water but the evidence for it is everywhere. They have even excavated the fossils of sea creatures on top of these giant monoliths.
On the way back a stong wind blew up and we were engulfed in a sand storm. Later, when we arrived home, we had a very appealing red spray tan all over.
In the afternoon, after a shower, swim, lunch and sleep we took the shuttle bus to the other half of the Goulding’s site, where we watched a very moving film about the area and its people. We visited the ‘Trading Post’ (shop) and found that a portion of all proceeds go to provide local Navajo children with scholarships. The Goulding’s lodge and Trading Post was founded by Harry Goulding and his wife -Mike – in the early 20th century. I know what you are thinking but he called her Mike only because he said he couldn’t spell her real name, which was Leone. She was known as Mike by everyone. They built the house that now forms the museum and created the Trading Post where they could trade with the Navajo: buying their jewellery in exchange for other goods.
I’ve gone on much longer than I expected and must be boring you now. But that’s a reflection of the great time we’ve had here. The Navajo people we’ve met have been so laid back and gentle. And our camping experience has been really good too.
One final thing I wanted to tell you about. We were chatting to the shuttle bus driver (Navajo) tonight on the way to dinner and asking him about the influence of the Mormons on the Navajo. He said they come knocking on his door wanting to convert him. He offers them is pipe of peace and they refuse it. He said, if his pipe of peace is not good enough for them he doesn’t want to know. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned there.
We’ll miss this place when we leave tomorrow morning but will take away some great memories.
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