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The Hogan 14
View From The Hogan #14 Planting month (June 2000)
Notes from Big Mountain
Ya'a'tee
Something a little different this time round.
I'm off on vacation and I thought I'd take you along with me.
Every day I walk across the land, so for my vacation I thought I
would........ walk across the land. (the 65 cents in my pocket means a cruise
to Hawaii will have to wait.)
My plan is to walk from the hogan to Flagstaff, a distance of
approximately 100 miles as the crow flies (though why any self-respecting
crow would want to fly to Flagstaff is beyond me). Being on foot my route
should be a little longer.
There are a couple of reasons I risk boring you with my vacation. One is
that if possible, by describing the land and whats upon it to you I may be
able to make things here a little more "real", and in that way maybe shift
some of you who remain voyeurs of this situation into action. Another reason
is that I am sure there will be things along the way that will add to your
understanding of what is going on here. My own particular interest in this
trip (other than to have a break) is in the number of borders/fences,
artificially imposed barriers, that I will have to cross.... I'm interested
to see what changes exist on either side of the fences.
So, this piece is titled "A walk across the Altar"
Black Mesa is an approximately 4000square mile chunk of sandstone that
rises above the surrounding Painted Desert. (Apologies if my geology is a
little sketchy...... I'm a sheepherder , not a geologist). Geologists tell us
that at three different times in the geologic past oceans covered the land,
and this has caused the three different layers of sandstone.The mesa tilts to
the south, being somewhat higher at the north end. This means that the water
runs off the mesa in a south or southwesterly direction, and over the
centuries has created drainages in this direction. Where these drainages
leave the mesa, a series of "fingers" of land have been formed. These are the
Hopi Mesas where they have their villages.
I will be starting my trip in the westernmost of these drainages, head
east over the ridge whose highest point is known as Big Mountain into the
next drainage, then follow that south towards Flagstaff.
DAY1
For a variety of reasons, I make a late start, and don't head off till
lunch-time,... but then I don't have a plane to catch. Its mid-May and hot,
and my pack is heavy, but I console myself with the knowledge that as time
goes on, and I eat and drink, it will become lighter. What I don't really
notice because I take it for granted, is the quiet here. Not quite silent, as
the wind sometimes whispers, the occasional crow caws, and big chunks of
metal and people fly overhead fairly constantly during the day. Quiet enough
that the sound of my boots crunching the ground and the creak of my pack
create a steady rhythmn. I'm at 6000 feet, but this is still technically
desert, so my feet are constantly in touch with sand or rock. There is plenty
of plant life, but everything is spaced out, a consequence of the competition
for the scant rainfall. Incidentally, this spacing of the vegetation (both
tree and grass) is the reason there are no forest or grass fires here....
plenty of single trees get hit by lightning and burn, but the flames can't
pass from individual to individual. This doesn't stop the good folks at HTC
from declaring a "Fire Emergency" whenever the resisters plan a gathering
like Sun Dance. Within the first mile I pass 3 kinds of grass, snakeweed,
sagebrush (aahhh how nice it smells when it does rain), yucca, prickly pear,
greasewood, juniper, saltbush, ephedra, cholla, Navajo tea, hedgehog cactus,
and several more bushes I don't know the name of. A community of plant life.
It hasn't rained in many weeks, so many of the annual plants have died back.
Come the summer monsoons, and many more will appear. As I top out on a rise
the Pinyon and Juniper trees are more numerous, so I stop regularly to rest
in the shade. Its hot, though exactly how hot I can't tell, not having a
thermometer..... same reason I can't tell you what the time is.... don't have
a watch. Another mile or so gently downhill and I come to the canyon. Pretty
big one, so I decide to cross it by the road rather than try to scramble down
and up.
This is a hand-made road. Made with picks and shovels and sweat, and the
occasional horse-labor to move boulders. Technically these are called
"unmaintained roads", but that is a misnomer. A couple of years ago we had a
visitor who came in a brand-spanking new rented SUV. When she tried to leave
it wouldn't start, so the rental company had to drive all the way out here
with a flat-bed truck and haul it away. They charged the driver a small
fortune for this, because in the fine print of the rental agreement it said
coverage did not extend to "unmaintained roads". (What is the point of
renting a 4-wheel drive vehicle if you can't take it where you would need
4-wheel drive?). I wrote the company and tried to correct their fallacy.
Every Fall, after the summer monsoons have finished scouring the land we have
to go out with shovels and repair the damage caused by the erosion, build
little gabillons to prevent further erosion, and fill in the low-points and
pot-holes with the wood chips and bark from the past winters firewood
chopping (EVERYTHING gets used again and again here....). This, most
obviously, makes these roads very much "maintained". The rental company
didn't buy it though.
Down in the bottom of the canyon is a different eco-system due to the
prevalence of water. Trees grow larger, and there are a few species of tree
and bush that don't grow up-top. Right now the sandy bottom is dry, but just
below the surface the water still runs, as evidenced by the cottonwood trees
growing. The bottom of the canyon is littered with house-sized chunks of rock
that have fallen from the slowly eroding walls of the canyon. Come the
monsoons, and this is a raging river, but rarely for more than a few hours at
a time.
Climbing out, I decide to take a horse trail. I don't expect any traffic,
but I'd rather be walking away from the roads.
Down in the side canyon to the left are some remains of Anasazi dwellings
and some petroglyphs. Archeologists say they were abandoned about 800 years
ago. The HTC says that this therefore makes this land theirs. I don't
know,... 800 years is an awful long time to wait before deciding you want
something back. (ah, but, the coal was valueless when they left)
Topping out of the canyon I now have a long, fairly flay stretch of plain
to traverse before climbing Rocky Ridge. About a mile across I pass by a sad
and eerie sight, an abandoned stone house. The home of someone who has
relocated. This one is unusual though, in that it is still standing. Usually
after someone has been moved off, the BIA/Corporate Hopis come in, remove
doors, windows, and anything else of value, and then demolish the building.
Don't know whay they haven't done that to this one. Don't know where the
people are now either. Statistically, the chances are that they are dead.
Suicide, depression, heartbreak, alcoholism, and a huge increase in the
incidence of life-shortening illnesses are the norm for relocatees. Experts
warned the government that this would happen, but they went ahead with the
relocation program anyway.
I move on, cross a couple of washes and am about halfway to where the
land starts to climb and I see a group of horses run off. Good looking
horses. A couple of adults and a juvenile. A vistor might think they were
wild, but they aren't,.... just free. Whenever they are needed, the owner
rounds them up... works them for a while, and then lets them go again. Years
ago I had a job looking after some Arabian horses. They were kept in little
steel cages, and their food had to be weighed and they had to be fed at
precisely the same time each day otherwise they became sick. Maybe once a
week they were taken out to a corral and ran in circles for an hour or two.
They were nervous and neurotic. The horses here have to work hard for their
food,... there are times when they must travel many miles to find water, but
there is no comparison to the look in the eyes of these to the Arabians. The
analogy is obvious, I would hope.
A little further and I come to an abomination. The first fence.
There never were any fences on this land till the feds "gave" the land to
the Corporate Hopis. This fence delineates a "grazing district". On the other
side of the fence no people live. Only cows, owned by the absentee Corporate
Hopis. Just across the fence is a windmill and stock tank. The fence insures
that the animals of the people who live here cannot get at it. The windmill
was put in by Navajos more than fifty years ago, but now it "belongs" to the
cows. All around the ground is denuded of vegetation and covered with cow
pats. It stinks. Not far from here is where Roberta Blackgoat and others were
arrested and jailed for non-violently resisting the desecration of some grave
sites. This whole land is covered with stories. And songs.
Heading up the slope the trees become more numerous. Off in the distance
to the southwest, Doo' ko'o'sliid, the 12000 foot high sacred mountain marks
my destination. On the north slopes there is still some snow visible. I
should be there in 3 or 4 days.
I pass the remains of a summer shelter. A circle of boughs set in the
ground. The Dineh have been erroneously labeled as nomadic. (The Dineh are
nomadic, ... the Hopis "migrate"?). In the old days the people moved around
the land, following the rainfall and grazing, ensuring that the land stayed
healthy. Now they are forced to stay in one place. A couple of years ago
someone sent me an interesting report. Using satellite image analysis,
scientists studied the state of the land in western asia. The area covered
was Russia, Mongolia, and China. In Russia and China, the State controlled
the grazing, with fences and permits and "Expert" studies. Sandwiched
in-between was Mongolia where the people still followed the traditional
methods of grazing. The evidence was irrefutable. The land in Mongolia was in
much better health. The difference is that one system attempts to "control"
the land, the other to work "with" the land. And so it is here. If the people
were allowed to live the traditional way, the land could support much more
livestock. A neighbour has just had some of his stock impounded, yet there is
plenty of grass around.
Another hour or so and I reach the top of the ridge. There is till a
couple of hours of light left, but I decide to stop for the night. I've come
about 12 miles or so today. Along the top of the ridge is the fence between
HPL and NPL, and I'd rather stay on this side for the night. I've described
this fence as inscribing a prison, but it also serves to keep Babble-On out.
I feel safe on this side of the fence.... protected from the insanity that
seems to be prevalent "out there". I drop my pack, and instantly feel light
and airy, settle down with my back against a tree and savor the fact that
there is not one single thing I have to do, but enjoy the silence and the
expansive view.
Across from me is a clump of yuccas. It is a plant with many names.
Spanish Bayonet because of its sharp pointed leaves that explode out from its
base. These yuccas have stalks rising up 3 or 4 feet from the base. Soon
flowers will appear on the stalk, and then they will turn into fruit. The
young stalks (looing like asparagus), the flowers, and the fruit are all
edible. The goats go crazy from them. When the yucca is shooting and blooming
the goats make a mad dash for them as soon as the corral gate is opened.
Nothing will deter them from this delicacy. The yucca has many other uses.
The leaves, when pounded into fiber make excellent cordage. Sandals and ropes
made from it have been found in the old Anasazi ruins. Another name for the
yucca is Soapweed. Its root, when peeled and pounded in water produces
excellent suds. I don't use anything else to wash my hair.
The sun sets to the west over the kaibab plateau north of the Grand
Canyon, and the land darkens. As far as the eye can see, and it must be at
least several hundred square miles, no lights come on. If you were to fly
over here at night and look down, you'd see one of those black areas. You
might think there were no people there. That it was wilderness. Wilderness
seems more and more like a strange idea to me. That Land and People don't
belong together. When the visitors first came to this continent they saw
wilderness. Partly that was because it was inconvenient to see the
inhabitants, but partly, I think, because was the land was not damaged.
I always feel good looking back over the land . It's a little island of
non-USA. Its free land. Lived on by sovereign people. According to the
dominant society, they shouldn't be here. The plan is to invade. Reno's Goons
and the Men In Black. Heavily armed of course. There are little old ladies
who don't speak english here. Obviously far more dangerous than a little
Cuban boy,
I watch the stars appear. Just one at first. Then another. Then they
appear faster than can be counted. The end of another good day.
TO BE CONTINUED......
So I think I'll close now, and leave you with a quote from the late,
great John Wayne. "I don’t feel we did wrong in taking this great country
away from them. There were great numbers of people who needed new land, and
the Indians were selfishly trying to keep it for themselves."
Ho Hum. Same old, same old.
The photos this time are:
VFH14pix1: The canyon
VFH14Pix2: Big Mountain from the air. I crossed the ridge about 5 miles
south of here.
VFH14pix3: Petroglyphs on the cliff
If you don't get the pictures, it's because you haven't asked for them.
But then, what the hell do I know....... I'm just a sheepherder.
Thanks for giving me your time to read this.
Your Prayers, support, and correspondence are invited.
For all my relations
BoPeep (reachable via unclejake74@hotmail.com)
P.S. Please feel free to pass on this email (unedited). Certain people
are doing their best to suppress information coming from the land, so we can
use all the help we can get in this regard.
If you have received this as a forward, and want to be sure of getting
future updates directly, please let me know. Also if there are any
back-issues you want, again, let me know.
