BACK ROAD ADVENTURE

Roundabout Road to Tuzigoot Touches Ancient Sinagua Homeland

IN MANY CULTURES, people believe that all objects contain a certain spirit. If that is true, then the spirits that inhabit a back road to Tuzigoot National Monument are mischievous but benevolentmocking the hapless but rewarding the persistent with breathtaking views.

Of course, I did not know this when I foolishly set off in a dusty cloud of worry with no one riding shotgun and no spare tire on the route along the seams of the Verde Valley, which harbored civilizations stretching back to stone-age mammoth hunters, all of whom knew far more about the place than I ever will.

I found the road easily enough -Forest Service Road 761 that heads north from a point about 3 miles northeast of Cottonwood. But as soon as I started up the dusty road, the natural speed-bumping of erosion-caused washboarding made my truck rattle as though I'd blown a tire.I can handle this, I reasoned.

So I continued my rattle-trap journey, hoping the view would repay the pounding.

In that hopeful frame of mind, I scanned the horizon: nothing but shrubs, dust and a faded butte. I felt faintly like Coronado upon learning that the cities of gold were made of mud thatched with straw.

Now, it may have been the rattling of my brain against the inside of my skull, but it seemed to me as I bounced along that the yuccas along the road were laughing at me. Lined up every few feet, they were doing the yucca equivalent of holding their sides as they shook in the wind.

Very strange.

Mind you, the Indians who built the sandstone village I was seeking had made friends with the yucca. The Sinagua people who lived in this valley 1,000 years ago made baskets, sandals, belts, ropes, dolls and who knows what else from the yucca. They even braided root fibers into their baskets when they needed red highlights. They ate the flowers and fruits-both

dried and fresh. They even made yucca soap. But we moderns don't have much use for yuccas-although certain nameless corporations harvest yuccas for livestock deodorant, believe it or not. Maybe that's why the yuccas were laughing at me.

Still, I figured I'd press on in search of fresh insight into those great confidants of the yucca, the Sinagua, who built sophisticated irrigation works throughout the Verde Valley before abruptly abandoning all they had built sometime after A.D. 1400. Some combination of drought, overpopulation, internal strife and the arrival of new groups apparently drove them out, although the experts still debate the exact cause. Personally, I blame the yuccas. A man can stand only so many yucca yucks before he departs with his dignity. Hunching over the steering wheel, I maturely applied the gas pedal, leaving the yuccas behind. I climbed a series of hills before leveling out to receive my first surprise of the day just 3 miles into my journey. Almost straight ahead in the distance, I received my first clear views of Anderson and Loy buttes, a towering maroon wall emanating tranquility and spirituality. After about 3 more miles, the red rock cliffs of faraway Sedona appeared on my right. The road grew smooth and sandy as soothing wild grasses replaced the washboarded desert. Just over 6 miles into my adventure, I saw the sign for Forest Service Road 258, which bends west and south toward Tuzigoot. So I hung a left. Slowly ascending the narrow road, I noticed a small gorge to my left, its sides dotted by junipers. Suddenly, a huge owl left its hiding place among the trees and flew a few yards from my truck before darting back into the cover. I've heard it said that owls are harbingers of doom and death. Was this a warning or a coincidence? On the other hand, perhaps the owl community had grown tired of its bad reputation and resolved to haunt only safe trips. Now that I think of it, that owl did look awkwardly encouraging, even repentant. Therefore, I decided to remain optimistic. Almost a mile later, I encountered a quick succession of road junctions. So I first bore right, then left at the second junction. The road began a descent, offering stirring views of the Verde River Valley.

About 13 miles into the trip, I came to a T-junction with Forest Service Road 131. Becoming impatient, I sped up and after another mile found myself face to face with the Verde River. On its banks, pale reeds formed small coteries, seemingly standing in awe of the tall trees on each side of the river, with leaves ranging from bright green to a fiery red. Clearly, the spirits would not have let me witness such a sight without first insisting I pass the test of the dust and the washboarding. Thanking the spirits (even the yuccas), I continued and finally came to a junction with a paved road.

Now close to Tuzigoot National Monument, I decided to tour the ruins. Turning left onto the paved road, I followed the signs to the ruins. Set on a hill overlooking an abandoned meander of the Verde River, the Sinagua people built twoand three-story pueblos with 110 rooms, Starting in about A.D. 1000. Their thriving settlement covered 42 acres and overlooks a bird-rich marsh, fed by a year-round spring. The restored Tavasci Marsh is now a refuge for birds, beavers, river otters, muskrats, deer and javelinas. Despite the rich resources of the marsh and the river, the Sinagua left the area's bounty behind. Hopi traditions say that some of the clans from this area moved to the high, windy, nearly waterless Hopi mesas.

Walking among the ancient homes, I thought I understood what they must have known. The desert extracts its toll, but saves its rich rewards for those with the patience to brave the journey. Just don't let the yuccas get to you.