Through Winter Parks (3/4)

Through Winter Parks (3/4)
December 29, 2000
On Indiania....



	"Impressive" landscape at the entry to Indian reservation



	... and we can toss a coin, will Indians show up or not?

Looking for a hotel with a hot tub again in Page, we failed. Best Western referred us to Comfort Inn, but their hot tub was closed for the winter. We managed to get dinner at probably only open steakhouse, where we each got - guess what? - a giant steak (only after shameful leaving a considerable piece of a cow uneaten, I noticed "12 ounces" mentioned on the menu), served by a real Indian waitress. Page is only few miles from Navajo reservation.

The area of today's Navajo reservation was populated in the middle of 13th century by Anasazi tribe, who built stone pueblos there. How, why, and where they eventually disappeared, no one knows. Navajos replaced them in about hundred years, coming here from today's Canada. They consider themselves historical heirs of Anasazis (the name Anasazi is Navajo word and means "those who lived here before"), but perhaps descendants of Anasazi are Hopi Indians. Navajo Nation have an extensive autonomy and own a considerable part of Arizona. In the middle of Navajo territory is a smaller area that belong to Hopi tribe.



	Not a step further ... never mind the spelling



	Eventually our $35 paid off...

Navajos earned extra pride in dealings with the government through a strange historic role. During World War II, they were distributed to various units as communication staff. One Navajo sent messages to another Navajo ... in their own language. It is sufficiently unique that it spun Japanese heads. Navajos are quite proud of this piece of history -- and probably rightfully so.

However, since the morning, Sid showed nervousness originating in the fact that we kind of left America and entered Indiania. It is not a merry feeling just because for example AAA (roadside assistance) may not operate within Indian reservation. Indian Nation Law governs local affairs and courts, and Arizona or Federal government won't tend to interfere. Which is perfectly OK while everything's fine, but should one get into any situation...



	We suggest a tripod, patience and noontime sun... we did not have most of it...

Yet, we spotted Antelope Canyon in the guide book, so we had no other choice but to accept Indian specialties somehow.



	... but we captured a few shots.

You will find Antelope Canyon by heading towards a hideous thermal power plant right outside Page (it provided electricity for the reservation). On the spot where this monster looms closest to your left side, don't miss a small beaten sign "Antelope Canyon Entrance", and drive past a wire fence, where you would find dust, one hut, about five signs with restrictions and regulations, three port-a-potties, plus a crowd of other desperados.

The hut looked like a payment point, but it was totally shut and locked. Information signs informed us what all is forbidden (beginning with your next step towards the reservation without an authorized guide person), yet there was not a single map or time entry, when and if a guide may show up, or what steps should we take to instigate his appearance.

We hang around there for a while, and just as I started to believe Sid saying there may not be any Indians showing up today, a truck appeared on the horizon. Out of the truck rolled a handful of tourists and an Indian woman who looked like a twin of the waitress at the steakhouse.



	Twister

She told us that entrance fee was $12.50 per person and together that would be thirty five, including some surcharge. And you, white face, either pay up or move on. We had no other choice but start turning our pockets inside out and empty our bags. Somehow we got used to pay with credit cards and had not enough cash - especially not cash exceeding numbers listed at the entrance.



	Monument Valley - Three Sisters with sunset and swirling dust

Before we piled enough quarters and dimes together, the Indian woman started her truck and left with better off tourists. She yelled something through an open window, like she was coming back in ten minutes.

She was, but then there was no room left for us in the truck. Eventually the eight Germans who sat inside took pity on us and shrunk enough to let us ride along too.

After some five minutes of dirt road ride, the truck dumped us in front of a hole in a rock, and we were told not to climb and write on walls, and that we should be ready to leave in about an hour.



	"Seven totems" at Monument Valley

Antelope Canyon itself is only about 500 yards long and got cut in the sandstone by a narrow flash flood creek. It is most pretty, but very dark for photography. It requires a tripod and one should plan visiting it during summer when sunlight is more vertical. A friendly old man lent us his tripod for a while, talking about taking pictures and starting a conversation on digital photography with me (ha ha).



	A view through the "North Window"

Frozen from Antelope, we turned our car's heating on and headed for Arches National Park, back north to Utah. In Kayenta, AR, we pulled some (obviously needed) cash out of an ATM machine and decided to have a lunch. Kayenta lays deep inside Navajo reservation and looks like a frontier outpost, but the restaurant was clean, Indian servers were nice, food good and cheap. Originally we were the only white folks in there. Right at the door sat an Indian grandpa, sipping soup, there was an Indian family with a little girl and finally some old Indian women with colourful skirts that welcomed each other noisily. Quite a family place.

A successful lunch chased away moodiness from Indian guiding at Antelope, and we opted to finish the day with Monument Valley. For a whole three dollars (compare please with $35 at Antelope) we could drive ourselves through a loop among the rocks. No waiting, no "guiding".



	Monument Valley overlook

The sun was setting and our watch told us the gate will close soon (as a lady at a register told us). Still, there were lots of cars everywhere and more were coming. Indian vendors at turnoffs only began to pack up their beads and pendants, so we thought it won't be so hot with closing.

At the end of our loop, we were welcomed by -- a closed gate. With a sign on it that we are to pay at the register. Register -- closed. Nobody around. Indian worktime simply ended.



	Desert sunset

Fortunately a few hundred feet back was an unlocked road to freedom. That was nice, but I still don't understand why would a scenic route close as the woman leaves her register (whole half an hour before sunset) and why there could not be a sign on the locked gate explaining how to get out. Apparently it is meant to be a test for the white man's intelligence.

I had to admit I was looking forward to get back to Utah, where civilization has defined rules (like when they close a park gate for the night, they leave the exit open, or a ranger drives around first and throws everybody out).

Next about excellent beer, hot tub peculiarities, Arches and hippo levitation.

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