Hiking The Keet Seel Trail - Pt 2
The Waterfall - Continued
Even though we were nearly out of water, sunburned and in pain we didn't complain. We had a goal, and we were determined to make it. We knew we were close, but that doesn't mean that our spirits weren't getting down. Every time we got closer it felt like we hadn't made any progress at all. By now, Michelle had developed a healthy limp and I was beginning to walk like John Wayne. We finally came to another waterfall. It wasn't listed in the orientation and it also marked a fork in the canyon. We dropped our packs and got out the map. The map showed a tiny waterfall legend very near to our destination, but the scale was misleading. We scouted around a bit trying to figure out which one of the two arms of the canyon we were supposed to follow. In this regard the map was a bit confusing. It showed the ruins residing in a small arm off to the west, with a main arm continuing north, and just such a situation existed where we were currently scouting, but there were no ruins in the small arm to our west, no ranger station, and no campgrounds. This could not have been it after all. Another disappointment, but now which way were we supposed to go? Just as we were about to break down and scream we noticed footprints in the mud heading north. That was our path. It must be close!
We kept walking, going around another bend and another. No ruins. How much further could it be? At last, we came around another bend and there in the distance I saw a sign. A real sign. It read, "Keet Seel" and had an arrow pointing North West. We walked quicker, but somehow more exhausted. We were on our very last bottle of water. We came around the bend to the North West only to discover another sign. This one marked the camp site and directed us to keep walking to Keet Seel. It was here that I decided to ditch the packs. It was all we could do to get them this far and there was no point in continuing to carry them if we were just going to have to bring them back.
Making it to the Keet Seel
After dropping the packs we kept walking, this time with a kind of mortified determination. We came around another bend, there was another sign. We started walking faster. We came to another sign that pointed up a steep hill. The hill was all sand. We trudged up it. There, off in the distance, was the gate that lead to the ranger station. It was still far away. Michelle almost started crying, but she choked it back. We marched down the trail to the gate. I could see the ranger off on the far side of the canyon, she started walking back toward us. We went inside the gate, only to find that the ranger station was still another ways off. So we continued walking until we finally made our destination. There was a picnic table just outside the station. We crashed down, breathing heavily and rested our heads on the chipped paint that coated the old wooden table.
The ranger made it over to us. I think she could see that we weren't in good shape. We laid out the situation for her. She went inside and got us a couple of cups and some cold water. We spent the next half hour talking to her, explaining our predicament; lack of water, wounded knee, rash and some heat stroke. She went into her cabin and radioed the main station some miles back and arranged for some rescue for the following day. Off in the distance we could see the Keet Seel ruins hanging majestically, carved from the massive overhang of the solid rock canyon wall. We had made it at last.
The ranger helped us go back and get our packs and carry them to the camp site.... Which was up yet another sandy hill. She gave us a gallon of water, which we had to boil, but at least we had it. We were about half way through our last bottle at this point. We set up camp and made some dinner. We were exhausted, hungry and dehydrated. But there was one more catch about the next day's rescue. We had to hike back over two and a half miles to the large waterfall, because that was where the drivable trail ended. There would be no rescue without one more short hike. But that was for the following day. For now, it was enough for us just to get some rest and doctor our minor wounds.
Feeling beat and broken we wolfed down a packet of Backpackers Pantry Mexican Rice with Chicken, and some hot Earl Grey tea. When you're that worn down and hungry just about anything will taste good, but the dehydrated meals from Backpackers Pantry are really pretty decent once you get them rehydrated and hot. The beans and rice was absolutely delicious!
Once we finished dinner we decided that, to conserve water, we would not be doing the dishes. These could be done later. So we packed up all of our food stuffs and hung them up in a nearby tree before setting up the tent.
It didn't take long for us to collapse in the tent. The sun was slowly making its way down, and we were certainly ready for it. We thought that we'd both fall asleep as soon as we hit the bed, but that didn't happen. Instead our senses were piqued by a strange world that we had previously been too absorbed to really take in. Other than the ranger who was about a half a mile away in a log cabin, we were the only people out there for miles. There is no industry out there, so there are no sounds of man to be heard. The canyon walls echoed and amplified every sound that was made. Acorns fell from the surrounding trees and cracked like lady finger fire crackers onto everything they hit. They were random, and sometimes it sounded as though something were moving in the brush, but there never really was. Once in a while a bird would stir up some noise, but as the sun went down that activity waned. There were a couple of ravens that called loudly from the canyon walls; their crowing bouncing along the solid rock surfaces.
Once the sun had completely set we could hear the cows making their way down the stream bed below to some unknown location. It started out with low moos and cow calls. Nothing too unusual there. But before long the most ear wrenching sound came up from the valley. It started in a short moo and then warped into some incredibly loud, high pitch scream. It sounded like a cross between some wailing banshee and an electronic hurricane alarm. With each bovine blast we could hear the sound carry far down the canyon walls. And even though we knew it was just a cow or a bull down below it was strange and loud enough to make our eyes bug out of our skulls and our senses go to high alert. This bizarre screaming traveled with the cows all the way down canyon, like some bovine parade that only made the spectacle for themselves. The next day the rangers told us that it was, in fact, the bull, and they called it the "Viking War Horn". That's a really great description for it.
Once the cows had passed, the owls started in. At first I thought they were coyotes, because their call was like a howl, but then the howl melted into a pulsing, "hoot hoot hoot hoot hoot". The whole entourage was more fascinating than it was alarming. In fact, I would have to say, at least for myself, all the calls and hoots and hollers were more invigorating than anything. But that in itself was an issue, since I really needed some sleep and here I was wide awake listening to the sounds of the canyon.
I don't know how long it was before I fell asleep, but I woke up cold with the sound of the owls still bleating in the distance. It was morning, but it was early morning. The sun was only just starting to warm the sky, but not enough to really shed any light on anything. We had made an arrangement with the ranger to come back in the morning to finalize some arrangements for our transportation out of the canyon, and also so that I could take the tour of the Keet Seel ruins. We had, after all, come all this way, and the ruins were the main attraction, so there was no way I was going to miss it now.
Michelle's leg was really sore when we got up, so she decided to stay behind and work on packing up a few things while I went down to the ranger's cabin and got the tour of the Keet Seel ruins. It was a little less than half a mile from where we were camped to the ruins. So, I got ready and made the trek down there at about 8:30.
The Ruins
The Keet Seel ruins, as I said before, were populated by ancestors of the Hopi and Navajo around 950 C.E. and continuing on until sometime in the 1300s. It is one of the most well preserved cliff dwelling still in existence and is concurrently one of the largest. It rests high above the canyon floor, hanging from the walls of a large cut in the rocks that resembles a massive amphitheater. In fact, the entire canyon is littered in ancient ruins. This area was once a hotbed of Anasazi (Navajo for "Ancient Ones") culture, with villages cropping up all throughout the area. We were told that archeologists have uncovered some one thousand different cliff dwellings and other ancient homesteads in the Kayenta area.
From our campsite you could see the ruins hanging there in the alcove in the canyon wall about a half a mile away. The ranger took me up to the base of the alcove where a large 21 meter ladder rose up into the cliff. At the base of the ladder the ground was covered in thousands of pot shards, broken pieces of beautifully decorated clay pots and jars. She told me that when a person died, the medicine man would throw their pottery into the chasm below as a way to help the dead pass. I took as many pictures as I could in the short time we stayed down there. She also pointed out the remains of a fallen watch-tower that rested some several meters from the ladder we were about to climb. As we climbed she pointed out the ancient footholds that the original occupants had carved into the cliff face. When we arrived in the ruins I was greeted by one of the most amazing places I've ever been to. While small, there were roads that traversed the many homes and public places and store rooms that made up this little town. The preservation was incredible!
There were a few pots remaining intact there at the Keet Seel. Keet Seel, by the way is a loosely translated Navajo term that means, "Pot shards scattered around". Apparently, a couple of the store rooms were sealed off, with pottery containing corn and other staples neatly packaged in pots still laying within them. Archeologists think that the last people to leave the Keet Seel were probably intending on coming back.
The cliff dwelling had several areas made for weaving and others set aside for food preparation and grain storage and processing. The tools of their trades are still to be seen where they had been left some 900 years ago. Soot stains the walls around all the public areas. Fireplaces were built with special guides to direct smoke out of the various living rooms. Although, the ranger told me that the average life span of the Keet Seel residents was only about 35 to 45 years old, mostly because of excessive smoke inhalation. Furthermore, their teeth were worn down quickly because of the small amounts of sand and grit that got mixed in with their grains. Life was undoubtedly hard there in the canyon.
The village is also full of kivas. A kiva is a round room built as a multi-purpose ceremonial room. A fire place sets near the entrance, and there are occasionally wooden rings built into the floors which were designed for mounting looms for weaving. Apparently, the kivas served many purposes within the community.
Amazingly, all of the rooms were constructed with the elements in mind. Small stones and corn cobs are used within the mortar to allow for expansion and contraction in the hot, cold and wet months. The rooms are sealed and are considered water proof and rodent proof (specifically the storage areas). Some of the rooms have multiple stories, and many of them have tiled floors. The tiling uses smooth flattened shale-like stones arranged in patterns on the floor. Some of the artwork and general design work was really incredible.
There were smaller rooms with a sort of hanging rod running through them, like a modern closet, made specifically for hanging things up. Some of the roof beams were wound with a vine rope of some kind that was intertwined with rabbit fur to make the joints and fixtures more appealing. There was, in one living room, a petroglyph of a four fingered hand painted on the rock with yellow ochre. Many rooms had small niches and cubbyholes made for putting ceremonial trinkets or a vase of flowers in to spruce the place up.
The town itself was also decorated. There were paintings and petroglyphs on the walls around and above the city. There was a man with one arm raised and one arm lowered, a brood of turkeys, a Kokapelli and some other animals and such. The symbol of the Snake Clan and the Fire clan had both been carved out of the wall above the city. There's an ochre smeared hand print going down the wall above one of the buildings there in town. Standing there looking at all of this I couldn't help but feel some strange connection; a link to humanity throughout all time and space.
The ranger showed me some trinkets that they had found around the site, which they kept hidden from public view; an arrow head, a bone needle, and a loom hook. They kept these hidden under a rock to keep people from just picking them up.
We stayed up there exploring it for about a half an hour before the tour was over. I wish I could do it some justice here, but really it's something you have to see to really take in and understand. We headed back down the ladder. It was now time for Michelle and me to make the hike back down the trail to the waterfall, where the rangers would be waiting with a Jeep to get us out of the canyon.
The Cool Way Home
Michelle and I packed up our camp and got our packs back on for the trip. By now her leg was on the sore side, and in retrospect, had probably already started swelling. My rash, which had a chance to heal up a bit over night, slathered in Neosporin, was beginning to resume its previous day's irritation, and we had only one bottle of water remaining. Fortunately the hike back down the trail was only about two and a half miles, not terrible, but difficult over terrain in less than perfect condition.
About a mile or so down the trail we saw our rescuers coming up the other direction. A couple of Navajo guys that were far more spry than we were. They met us at the base of the first waterfall (not the big one; not our destination) and told us where the truck was. They gave us the clicker to unlock it and said there was a big ol' thing of cool water waiting for us in the back seat. Hurray! In order to justify the trip up the canyon, they were going to continue ahead to the Keet Seel to see if there was any maintenance that needed to get done while they were there. Fine with us.
The trip back did seem much quicker. We made it to the truck within a half an hour or so of running into the rangers. Sure enough, cool water awaited us, and we drank it up greedily. Within an hour the two rangers had returned and we were on our way out.
Fortunately for us, the two rangers were super friendly and seemed as though they were enjoying the trip away from the main park. They cut up and laughed with us the whole way out, and enjoyed many of the spectacles in the canyon with us as well. They shared lots of information about the canyon and the ruins with us; details that we wouldn't have gotten otherwise.
Earlier in the trip, when we had first made it to Keet Seel, the ranger at the ruins told us that there was a dead cow that we must have passed. If we had, we hadn't noticed it. She was amazed we didn't smell it, and told us that the poor thing had gotten trapped in some quicksand and suffered a long slow death from starvation and taunting from the local predators. On the way out of the canyon, on our way to Jeep Michelle and I did suddenly come across the sickly sweet smell of death and quickly found what was left of the cow. There wasn't much left. Enough to identify it as the offending odor, and to see that it was a cow, and hadn't been dead too long, but little else remained. Back in the Jeep our new ranger friends told us that the rangers had found it while it was still alive. There was nothing they could do about it. They wanted to put it out of its misery, but legally the cow belonged to whichever rancher owned the herd (there were at least 3 different herds in the canyon) and it was their right and responsibility to take care of it. Either no one could reach the rancher to get the cow saved or put out of its misery, or there was no way to save it and they did finally put it out of its misery. In any case, the rangers had wanted to do something about it, but weren't allowed to.
Along our way out we came to the point where the switchbacks lead us down into the canyon. The driver asked if we wanted to try our luck going back up. We thanked him and said we preferred his company. After we passed the switchbacks the real benefit of our ride came into fruition. The rangers started taking us on a bit of a guided tour. They would take a large hill up to the top just so we could all enjoy the panorama and take some photos. We passed by other ruins. They would stop and tell us about them, about how they weren't in very good condition because the elements had brutalized them, about how archaeologists had been there and gleaned from them what they could, but that they weren't really fit for tourism. We passed through incredible and fascinating rock formations that only the rangers and the ranchers ever get to see. We passed through small Navajo farms run by isolated native families. This was definitely the cool way home. Everything we passed was something that most people never get to see, and that alone was worth the humiliation of being rescued from what many would consider an amateur-level trail.
After all of the excitement we were craving the juicy deliciousness of a real top notch cheese burger. Vaughn, one of the two rangers told us to check out Kate's Café in Tuba City. He had to remind us the name before we parted ways. Once we got out of the canyon we were back on highway 160. The drivable road takes people far out of the way of the Navajo National Monument, so we had a fifteen minute drive down the highway back to the road that lead to the Park. From the highway they pointed out even more cliff dwelling ruins. We never would have noticed them if we had just been idly driving along. In fact, I've been down that road several times and still would have never seen them. It's amazing what we often miss in plain sight.
When we got back to the National Monument Park our two new friends drove us down to where we had parked our car. Full circle, our trip was over. We still had a six hour drive back to Phoenix, and we had to stop in Tuba City for a burger and some fry bread at Kate's Café, but the walking part of our tour was complete. We thanked our rescuers profusely for their generosity and for the excellent tour they gave us on the way out, and then they drove away. It was just us two again. We ached our way into the car, throwing our packs into the trunk, and got on the road that took us back to Phoenix.
See Photos from the trip:
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