The tall house

In the Hopi language, Wupatki is the tall house. This impressive pueblo was inhabited both before and after the eruption of the Sunset Crater volcano between 1064 and 1066 AD. At one time it had more than a hundred rooms facing a walled circular plaza. Just north of the structure is the northernmost ballcourt found in the Southwest. The pueblo may have been built at that location because of its proximity to an impressive blow hole. There is some disagreement in the literature concerning the name of the Indians that built the structure, but more recent articles seem to agree on the term "Sinagua." Although there are articles arguing that the inhabitants were Anazazis. It seems to be current doctrine that the Sinaguas were related to the modern Hopi Indians. But since about 1927, the nomenclature of the settlement and artifact style is called the Pecos Classification, which is as follows:

Paleo-Indian (? BC - 6500 BC)
Basketmaker I (6500 BC - AD 1, an obsolete synonym for Archaic)
Basketmaker II (AD 1 - 500)
Basketmaker III (500-700)
Pueblo I (700-900)
Pueblo II (900-1100)
Pueblo III (1100-1300)
Pueblo IV (1300-1600)
Pueblo V (1600-2000)
See Land Use History of North America Colorado Plateau

According to the dating of the Wupatki site, the pueblo would fall into the Pueblo II time period which corresponds to much of the development of the Chaco Canyon complex in New Mexico.

About Walking Arizona

One of the things you have to know about walking Arizona is this:



I have spent the last almost thirty years of my life using Apple computers almost every day.

Humming Bird over Mesa Canal

We have been walking and riding the canal banks for years. One of the most remarkable things we see are the hummingbirds. I used to think that hummingbirds were quite scarce, especially in Arizona. But as we walk along the canal, we see hummingbirds about every 50 yards or so. The little black speck moving back and forth across the canal is a hummingbird. I would venture to say that most people probably never notice them because they are so small and fast moving.

They are very territorial birds and there is only one at a time, but they love to hover over the canal. I know you can't see any detail, but you can see what we see, the tiny birds darting back and forth. Even though they are very small, they eat even smaller insects and the canals have plenty of small gnats and other bugs flying over the water in the early morning.

A window to the past

One of the first things that comes to mind looking out from the Wukoki Pueblo is the reason why the builders chose that spot to build a fairly monumental structure. It is easy to conjecture that the weather and rainfall patterns were much different at the time. In fact, there is a theory that the nearby volcanic eruption of what we call Sunset Crater coated the landscape with cinders which retained the moisture and fertilized the soil, making the area a lot more desirable that it appears. Even with this theory, it is very hard to come up with any rationale for building in this location justifying the remoteness and lack of firewood or water. However, there are also theories that air-breathing crevices such as the blow hole by Wupatki, may have had a major roll in locating these post-eruptive sites. See Schley, R.A., Excavation of the Wupatki Blowhole Site, NA7824.

The general opinion seems to be that the area was settled by the Sinagua Indians, close relatives to today's Hopi tribe. Sinaguas are also the name given to Indians at other prominent Arizona ruins, like Walnut Canyon and as far south as Montezuma's Castle. Unless you read the technical writings about the ruins, you are likely to find references to Anasazi, Mogollon, Hohokam, Petayan and even references to Mesoamericans. These are all cultural labels that are used by modern archaeologists to denote groups of inhabitants with a common cultural tradition. These labels are by their nature arbitrary and are either artifact based (i.e. pottery), tool based, or style based, or all three. Cultural differences were likely a result of geographic and climatic isolation. However, even the most educated of archaeological theories cannot take into account differences in unidentified cultural or political differences.

Wukoki Pueblo

Located in the Wupatki National Monument, the Wukoki Pueblo is a classic example of early pueblo construction. The earliest known observation of the ruins was made in 1851 during the U.S. Army exploration of Brevet Captain Lorenzo Sitgreaves. Guided by the mountain man, Antoine Leroux, the Sitgreaves party had the assignment of exploring the Zuni and Colorado River valleys. (See Anthropology Laboratories of Northern Arizona University (NAU), "History of Archaeological Studies at Wupatki")

Contrary to many of the ruins in the American Southwest, Wukoki and Wupatki, are prominently located on hills overlooking the vast stretches of the Colorado Plateau.  Wukoki in particular appears to have been strategically located for observation purposes. If there was an alert watcher on top of the towers, he or she could have seen someone coming many miles away. The site easily reminds me of the pictures I have seen of European castles. The sites for the dwellings was certainly not located for close proximity to running water, the only significant stream in the area, the Little Colorado River, is about five miles from the site of the pueblo. In this map, Wukoki is in the center of the map.The site marked "B" is the Wupatki ruin. The white line running on the right of the map is the Little Colorado River.

 If you click on the map, in the expanded view, the pueblo is located at the end of the faint road running from approximately the Wupatki pueblo towards the northeast. North is at the top of this map.

It looks like there is a fairly prominent wash just to the south and east of the site of Wukoki. I would speculate that at the time the pueblo was occupied, some of these watercourses may have held more water than they do today, meaning some instead of none.

One of the early anthropologist/archaeologists of Southwest region was Jesse Walter Fewkes who became the director of the Smithsonian's Bureau of American Ethnology in 1918. The Bureau's founding director was John Wesley Powell of Grand Canyon fame. Fewkes was one of the early educated explorers of the Wupatki pueblo complex and wrote in his book Two summers work in Pueblo ruins, (Fewkes, Jesse Walter. Two Summers Work in Pueblo Ruins. Washington: G.P.O., 1904) the following at page 56: [spelling as in the original but I tried to correct typographical errors]

The racial and clan kinship of the former inhabitants of these pueblos is somewhat problematic, but it is quite likely that the people were akin to the Hopis. This is shown not only by the character of the houses, but also by the pottery and various other objects found near them. Both legendary and archeological evidences point to the conclusion that the people who once inhabited the pueblos near Black falls came from the north, and were related to those who once lived in cliff houses and other habitations on the Rio Colorado and its tributary, the San Juan. Hopi legends say that the Snake clans formerly lived at Tokonabi, on the Rio Colorado, and that they migrated southward and built a pueblo about 50 miles west of the present Hopi towns, which they called Wukoki. This pueblo, it is said, still has high-standing walls. The direction and distance of the Black falls ruins from Walpi correspond pretty closely with those given in the legend, and while it may not be possible to identify any single ruin of this cluster as Wukoki, the traditional Wukoki of Hopi legend is not far from Black falls. The tradition that the inhabitants of these ruins came from the north is supported by the close resemblance in character and decoration between their pottery and that of the San Juan ruins.

It might naturally be supposed that there would be a close likeness between the pottery of the Black falls ruins and that of Homolobi, and that kinship once existed between the inhabitants of these pueblos on the same river. Close study, however, shows marked differences, and the author is led to the belief that while both were pueblo people, and, therefore, similar in culture, the clans which inhabited Homolobi were not the same as those which lived in the Black falls villages. The clans which lived at Homolobi came from the far south, through Chaves pass, while those at Wukoki came from the opposite direction. Both evidently sought refuge in the Hopi pueblos, where their descendants now live together. The clans from Homolobi were the Patki, Patun, and Tabo (Piba), whose route to the Hopi towns was by a trail which extends directly north past the "Giant's chair." The clans from Wukoki were the Teua and others who migrated almost eastward when they sought their home in Tusayan.

Organic Architecture

Quoting from Wikipedia, "Organic architecture is a philosophy of architecture which promotes harmony between human habitation and the natural world through design approaches so sympathetic and well integrated with its site that buildings, furnishings, and surroundings become part of a unified, interrelated composition. Architects Gustav Stickley, Antoni Gaudi, Louis Sullivan, Frank Lloyd Wright, John Lautner, Claude Bragdon, Bruce Goff, Rudolf Steiner, Bruno Zevi, Hundertwasser, Imre Makovecz, Neville Gruzman and most recently Anton Alberts, Nari Gandhi, John Preihs and Laurie Baker are all famous for their work with organic architecture. Perhaps you recall seeing a photo of Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece, Fallingwater.

Now look at the photo above of the Wukoki Pueblo built by the Sinaguas around 1100 AD. Now ask yourself, who invented organic architecture?

Apache Plume

The beauties of the desert are sometimes subtle, not loud and showy like the jungle. The colors can be muted pastels and when they are more vivid, they are often surrounded by thorns. When I first arrived at my new home in the jungle, all I could see was a wall of green. I remember standing at the edge of the jungle looking at a wall of vegetation and being afraid to take a step forward because I did not know what the plants were and whether they were poisonous or not. I distinctly remember reflecting on the contrast to my own home in the Arizona Sonora Desert, where everything is familiar and very predictable. Where I could walk without being concerned that something would stick me or bite me.

After living in the jungle for a long time, things became more familiar, but still, even years of experience did not make me feel at home with towering trees and vines with snakes and bugs. I remember one tree in the jungle that was totally covered with huge thorns. Not very pleasant. At least cactus are very predicable. It turns out that the tree not only has those huge thorns, but the entire tree is infested with huge ferocious ants that live in the thorns. All you have to do is touch the tree to cause the whole ant colony to attack.

When reading about the desert, you get a lot of baloney about rattlesnakes, jumping cactus, scorpions and such, but these are pretty mundane compared to your average jungle. I grew up in the desert and I was married with children before I saw my first scorpion. Really, you have to go looking for them. I must admit that later on in life we have had considerably more experience with scorpions. But they are fairly predictable if totally undesirable. Scorpions would not be helped by a good PR agent.

Granted, if you have little or no experience in the desert, you will likely get stuck with a cactus or two and you definitely have to learn how to walk through the desert and avoid picking up some stickers, but you can learn pretty quickly.

I also have another problem with the forests of the Eastern U.S., you can't see anything but trees. I like deserts because you can see forever.

Afternoon thunderstorms

Unlike some areas where it can rain all day and all night for days, in most of Arizona rain is highly seasonal, localized and comes with huge thunderstorms in torrents. For most of my life the summer thunderstorm season was called a monsoon. Recently, there has been change to conform with political correctness, and it is now officially called the "Summer Thunderstorm Season." Whatever. Watching the clouds form over the mountains and then move out across the Plateau in northeastern Arizona was a summer ritual. Everyone in Arizona loves to point out that the whole state isn't a dry and dusty desert, there are mountains and with green grass and trees, but the rainfall pattern is highly concentrated in the higher elevations and even the high mountains are relatively dry most of the year. Simply put, the high country gets the rain in the summer and sometimes snow in the winter.  The lower deserts are dry all year.

Down in the lower desert, we can wait all summer for one or two heavy rainfalls. In the high country it might rain one or two times a week, sometimes more frequently. In the early morning the skies will be almost clear, but by mid-morning, the clouds start to form over the higher hills and mountains and then suddenly begin to explode into huge cumulonimbus clouds systems that can dump rain and hail over large areas of the country. But it only rains right under the clouds. So you can stand on one side of the street and watch it rain on the other. On occasion as we watched the clouds form over the mountains and then slowly move across the desert, we would jump in our car and drive towards the rain. Once and while we could find a road that would take us into the path of the storm and we would drive until it was raining and then leap out of the car and stand around in the rain getting wet.

When I lived in Panama, I used to run to the window or outside to watch the rain, every day. None of people who lived there could understand my fascination with seeing buckets of water pour out of the sky. I still have to go outside and watch the rain. I am still amazed that water can actually fall out of the sky.

Mushrooms, Toadstools and Fungus in Arizona?

I have always been fascinated by mushrooms. One of my earliest memories is of the huge mushrooms growing near the Miles Standish Monument in Massachusetts. I would have to say, though, Arizona is not noted for its mushroom crop. Most of the interest in mushrooms is definitely culinary. In Arizona's arid climate, mushrooms only seem to appear after periods of heavy rainfall, in other words, very infrequently. There is a an association of North American Mycological Societies and Arizona has and Arizona Mushroom Club. I do like to eat mushrooms, but I am not much interested in running around looking for my food.

As usual, there is more information on any given subject than you could ever read in a lifetime. Here is a Checklist of Arizona Macrofungi, Lichens, and Slime Molds. The main website reports 1290 species of nonlichenized macrofungi and 147 species of slime molds for the state of Arizona. The Gilbertson Mycological Herbarium at the University of Arizona houses over 40,000 accessioned specimens of fungi and fungus-like organisms, with special collections of rusts, polypores, and corticioid fungi. Their holdings are global in origin, with special attention to the macrofungi of Arizona and the southwestern United States, Mexico, Hawaii, Alaska, and the Gulf Coast region of the USA. Recent expansions include over 8,000 accessions of endophytic fungi from arctic, boreal, temperate, and tropical sites. See website. There is also a very good website from a Northern Arizona University myclogist.

The picture above is from the Arizona high country, just after a huge rainstorm that flooded most of the washes in the area.

Aptly named Alligator Juniper

A considerable portion of the Arizona highlands are covered with various species of juniper trees, locally referred to as cedar trees. Not tall enough, usually, to give any shade except right in their vicinity, they have been considered as weeds and are looked down upon by pine tree lovers. Juniper trees grow throughout the entire northern hemisphere. There are 28 species of Juniperus. Those found in Arizona include the alligator juniper shown above, the California juniper, redberry juniper, common juniper, oneseed juniper, Utah juniper, and the Rocky Mountain juniper.

Juniper trees have been ubiquitous during my life. We used to have juniper berry fights, we used them for fence posts, clothesline posts, and firewood. The wood is extremely tough but the trunks and branches are so crooked and twisted, there is almost no good building wood in the trees.

At one time in Arizona, the ranchers began a huge campaign to eradicate the juniper trees to "improve" the range land for cattle. They took two huge Caterpillar tractors and attached a huge chain and dragged the chain across the landscape essentially pulling over all of the juniper trees. Huge areas of the Colorado Plateau were subject to this "range improvement." The destruction of the juniper habitat is still a common practice in other states, like Texas, for example. Ranchers are still looking for the juniper solution. Here is a description of the practice:

Numerous and sundry mechanical means are employed to physically destroy plant enemies. Prominent among these is "chaining," in which a heavy chain (or a heavy cable) is dragged between 2 crawler-type tractors to rip out all woody plants. The heavy equipment and huge anchor chain kill wild animals, destroy nests and burrows, kill many non-woody plants, damage the soil, drag and dislocate large rocks, and generally trash the land. In This Land Is Your Land, Bernard Shanks reports that chaining has likewise effaced hundreds of federally "protected" Native American ruins and archaeological sites (Shanks 1984). After chaining, the woody debris is burned or left to rot.

In an average year hundreds of square miles of Western public land are chained, hundreds or even thousands of acres at a time. Utah State University research scientist Ronald Lanner a decade ago found that more than 3 million acres (the size of Connecticut) of public pinyon/juniper land had been chained for cow pasture (Shanks 1984). Lanner recently stated that the weight of published research does not support any of the reasons used to condone chaining. Yet, common to the remote West is the chained landscape -- thousands of broken juniper, pinyon, greasewood, or sage skeletons scattered about the ravaged land, a few cows seeking forage among them.

 Some of the juniper removal is done under the guise of increasing rangeland hydrology, even though studies are very inconclusive as to the benefits of chaining all of the junipers. There appear to be few studies that focus on the peripheral damage done to the land by wholesale chaining.  See "How an increase or reduction in Juniper cover alters rangeland hydrology."

One thing I do know, overgrazing by cattle greatly alters the natural habitat and variety of species that can survive the extreme temperatures and lack of water on the Colorado Plateau.

Ant Hills

I am certain that ant hills or ant beds, whatever, exist for thousands of years. There is usually no reason for the ant colony to move out, so when an old queen ant dies, a new one moves in and the colony is renewed and continues in the same location. Obviously, I haven't been around for thousands of years to test my theory, but I remember a specific ant bed from when I was a child (almost 60 years ago) and the last time I checked (not too long ago, maybe a year or two) the ant bed was still there in the same location and going strong. 

So does anyone out there in the ant expert community agree with my theory? I suppose it is possible that no one else has stayed around an ant hill long enough to determine how long the use the same bed. But the ant hill in the picture above is ancient. 

I used to watch ants carefully for hours when I was young. When I finished watching the ants, I could still see them crawling with my eyes closed for hours. Occasionally, ants would bite one of our children. That was pretty terrible. I would get ant bites when I was pulling weeds in the garden. There would be nests of millions of little black ants that would come swarming out and bite me all over my hands and bare feet. 

We have had some ants in our house for years. We have fought back with every remedy known to mankind, but they seem to always come back. Right now, we have some tiny little ants that you can hardly see except as black specks. They are annoying because they will not give up and go away. I like ants a lot more than scorpions.

Indian Paintbrush

When I was at the University, I purchased a spiral bound notebook with a picture on the cover of a hillside of mixed species of wildflowers. I know a few places that such a picture might be taken at the right time of year. I will always have that memory of a hillside of wildflowers, but will seldom have the reality. 

Sometimes in the spring in the desert there are whole landscapes of color, but in the high country of Arizona wildflowers are more personal. There aren't really whole fields of flowers, they live a more solitary existence. In a way, the fact that they are not in a crowd, makes each plant more impressive. 

This Indian Paintbrush is the Wyoming State Flower. There are many different species and varieties of the Castilleja genus that grow throughout the U.S.  The USDA lists contain 106 species and 161 accepted taxa overall and they grow everywhere in the U.S. and Canada even as far north as the Arctic. There are even species that grow in Hawaii. They have a lot of common names, like wavyleaf, cobwebby, attenuate, Rincon Mountain, vernal pool, Port Clarence and on and on. Learning about Indian Paintbrush is kind of like finding out your best friend is a triplet. You thought your world was pretty well ordered and explained and then you find out that the one flower you recognize is really dozens of different species.

There is a dichotomy between being ignorant and enjoying the beauty of the flower and learning more about it and being wrapped up in details. I think that the dichotomy can be resolved if you love the beauty enough, even knowing the details doesn't spoil the view. 

Summer wildflowers of the White Mountains

Now I would have named this flower owl's clover or bee flower, but an extensive search on the Internet, including the USDA plant list does not identify this flower. I was growing in the Nutrioso valley at about 8,000 feet above sea level. I saw only a very few individual plants which were growing along the dirt road in a dry area. Any ideas?

High Country Classic

My great-grandparents lived in this small valley and were the original settlers in 1879, tucked away on the edge of the White Mountains and guarded by the huge presence of Escudilla Mountain. Here, the sandstone of the Colorado Plateau is capped by huge lava flows and all of the rounded hills in the area are long dormant volcanoes. The combination of a short growing season and poor thin soil made for really difficult farming. The only real possibilities were cattle ranching or timber harvesting. Neither of these activities turned out to be very profitable and nearly all of the settlers left the area after a few years of discouragement. 

The area is called Nutrioso from the Spanish nutria or beaver and oso or bear. There are now very few beavers, but there are still quite a number of bears. By 1886, a scarlet fever epidemic had wiped out most of the young children in the town. Even though the land appears green and inviting, it is subject to the desert droughts and during the early times hungry timber wolves would come into the settlement and eat calves, colts, lambs, dogs and cats. Around 1900 a severe drought forced most of the rest of the settlers to leave the area. The current year round population is estimated at about 150. 

During the past few years, the land speculation boom finally reached the area and land prices began to rise, but when the bust came, it came hard to Nutrioso and a tour though the subdivisions around the valley shows dozens of for sale signs. 

Sky, clouds and the high country

Driving from the low desert in the Salt River Valley to the high country of the White Mountains produces a particularly strong effect of contrast. Within a few hours, your perceptions of the state of Arizona can change dramatically. I have heard people, upon opening their car door and stepping out onto the soft cushion of pine needles and upon looking around, exclaim that they had no idea such a place could even exist in Arizona. There is no place I have ever been that compares. There are mountains more dramatically high, there are snow capped peaks that inspire awe, but there is no other place with the clarity of atmosphere and open vistas of the mountains of eastern Arizona. 

Falling into the Grand Canyon -- again?

The Grand Canyon is a very deep hole in the ground, a conclusion that seems to be lost on any number of visitors to the Rim. On visits to the Canyon, we have witnessed people actually dancing on the edge of the cliffs, seemingly oblivious to the hundreds or thousands of feet down to the first ledges. Recent news articles tell yet another story of a fall from the South Rim. Apparently, a French tourist is the latest to fall from the cliffs. In this case however, the tourist survived with wrist, ankle and neck injuries.

In July, a hiker's body was recovered from the Lava Falls trail and regularly, news articles highlight falls and other accidental or suicidal deaths at the Canyon. Almost exactly a year ago, on August 9, 2009, a Canadian fell to his death in the Canyon. On the average two to three people die every year from falls. In 1993, seven people died in accidental falls into the Canyon.

When people go to the South Rim (or even parts of the North Rim) in the developed area of the Canyon, there is really no transitional area between the development consisting of stores, hotels, gas stations, parking lots, and other attractions and the huge exposed cliffs of the Canyon. You walk right out of a parking lot and there is the edge with thousands of feet of drop-off. It is probably lost on some people that the Canyon is not exactly a walk in a mall.

Considering that in 2008, 4,425,314 people visited the Park, it is probably remarkable that there aren't more falls. The number of Park visitors actually fell in 2009 to 4,348,068, probably due to the slowdown in the economy. The highest number of visitors occurred in 1993 with 4,575,602.

The Springerville Volcanic Field

This is an extraordinary view of the Springerville Volcanic Field. Normally, the grass is yellow-brown even in wet years, but this year the washes were running and the hills were covered in green. Although there were a lot of cumulus clouds, there was little or no rain. The location is U.S. Highway 60 at about the crossroads of County Road 3123 looking generally east.

Living sandstone's tafoni

Sandstone is almost like a living creature in its infinite changeable character. It seems impossible that the formations can come from only the forces of wind, rain, chemical weathering and ice. I sometimes try to imagine how weathering alone could have produced such a variety of shapes and forms. Like almost everything in the world, there is a name for this type of formation, tafoni. No one really knows how they form, but the most favored current explanations involve salt weathering, differential cementation of the grains, and/or structural variations in permeability

At about 6000 feet above sea level here is a photo of a fine grained Moenkopi sandstone with a pronounced tafoni formation.

Lava froth

The type of Igneous rock that develops from lava is determined by the composition of the lava as it comes molten from the volcanic vent. The grain size depends on the speed at which the lava cools and to some extent, the composition of the lava. The finest grained lavas with few, if any, bubbles, are actually glassy and produce obsidian. If the lava is sticky and has more air bubbles, like the lava picture above, the resultant rocks are classified as pumice. A more fluid lava will produce scoria, which is primarily the composition of the cinders I talk about in previous posts. 

As the silica (quartz) content of the lava increases the lava becomes a felsite. Felsite is fine grained but not glassy like obsidian, and may or may not have phenocrysts (large mineral grains). It is high in silica or felsic, and typically consists of the quartz, (plagioclase feldspar and alkali feldspar). Felsite is considered the extrusive equivalent of granite.

With the changes in the composition of the lava, depending on mineral content, the lava could end up a medium silica Andesite or a low silica basalt. Coarse grained rocks from lava can include porphyries, granites, syenites, diorites, gabbros, peridotites, pyroxenites, dunites and pegmatites. Some of the differences between these rock types is based entirely on grain size and not on any variations in mineral content. 

The variety of rocks, is really fascinating. 

Lava squeeze

As lava is being extruded from the volcanic vent, the surface begins cooling immediately. When the viscous lava in the flow is pushed up through vents and cracks in the solidifying flow, the resultant formations are called "squeeze-ups." See Harold S. Colton and Charles F. Park, Jr., "Anosma or "Squeeze-Ups,"" Science (N.S._ Vol. LXXII (1930), p. 579. The above squeeze-up is visible in the middle of the collapsed lava tube. It is a slightly lighter color than the surrounding rock and has a small pine tree growing on the side. 

Here is a closeup of the part of the picture with an arrow:

Squeeze-ups are common in lava flows throughout the world. Some of the formations are hollow due to the lava draining out of the structure shortly after the formation. At Sunset Crater, where the above pictures were taken, only about 25% of the magma was erupted as lava flows, the rest erupted explosively as scoria. The smaller particles built the cone shaped mound we call Sunset Crater.