Monument Valley Valley-in-the-Rocks

In northeastern Arizona, extending into Utah, is a primitive area known as Monument Valley, the "Valley-in-theRocks." Not many travelers have ventured into this region, yet those who have say it is one of the most grotesque, and at the same time, most beautiful areas in the world. The Obelisk, at the extreme left, standing seven hundred feet above the floor of the valley, heads a parade of gigantic and fantastic monuments.

MONUMENT VALLEY

We stopped beside the dusty road a few miles north of the white bridge that spans the Laguna Wash near Kayenta, Arizona. Sam Jim, my Navajo companion, led me up through the talus slides that skirt the base of the rimrock of Thy'endeh Mesa. My eyes followed as he swung his calico covered arm in an arc to the north east and sputtered out the tongue twister, "There lies Tsebi'nzisgaih, the Valley-in-theRocks. The White men call it Monument Valley."

It came upon me before I was prepared that early morning panorama of Monument Valley. The sun had not risen above the dusky-blue screen of the Carrizo Mountains, but a bright day was promised by the swelling glow that laced the peaks like a ruby fringe, I looked and knew that the sweep of power of this northern Arizona scene far surpassed the thrill of any other picture I had seen in distant places. Monument Valley is a vast quasi-triangle. Its northern boundary is the snaky gorge of the San Juan River, and its west the steep red Navajo sandstone walls of the Segi Mesas. Our eerie was a short distance south of Owl Creek and near the apex of the triangle. The closure of the triangle is made by Comb Ridge, a remarkable red wall formed of upward turned edges of Monument Valley, in the land of the Navajos, is a vast quasi-triangle. Its northern boundary is the snaky gorge of the San Juan River, and its west the steep red Navajo sandstone walls of the Segi Mesa. The closure of the triangle is made by Comb Ridge, from Kayenta to the mouth of Chinle Wash. (Photo by Roy and Brownie Adams.) "I looked and knew that the sweep of power of this northern Arizona scene far surpassed the thrill of any other."

As early as the 70's Monument Valley had a reputation of rich gold deposits. A number of prospectors defied both the Navajos and the Piutes searching for gold in this region. Government reports at Fort Defiance state that over fifteen prospectors perished in the Valley before 1890.

strata extending from near Kayenta in a curved line to the mouth of the Chinle Wash at the San Juan River between Mexican Hat and Bluff City, Utah.

The floor of the valley is a dome rising gradually from 4,800 feet in Gypsum Valley to 5,200 feet at the Monuments, then descending toward the west to 4,800 feet in the upper Moonlight Valley.

While we clambered down to our car, a great round sun arose and poured a dusty-rose light over the valley. This is the shade that so many artists fail to master. Again, I gave up every vestige of hope of ever finding adequate similes that would honestly describe the tones and grandeur of the Navajo country.

Before us reared a towering pinnacle that broke off and shelved in Gargantuan steps down to the plain 1,225 feet below. Metallic glints showed through the flutes of the rusty lava cloak that expanded downward to the brecca flounce. In 1858, Captain John Walker named this most spectacular of all volcanic rocks in the Navajo

country, El Capitan. He viewed it from the south as he led his Mounted Rifles out of Old Fort Defiance up the Laguna in pursuit of Navajo and Piute war parties.

When we drew under the giant triangular shadow of El Capitan where it bisected the road, Sam Jim motioned me to stop. “We Navajos call this rock, 'agalah, much-piled-wool. It was made when the World was set on fire by Coyote in the Holy Days. The name refers to the scraping of deer hides here by the old people.” Leaving the shadow of El Capitan, we followed the winding road through hills of drab Shinarump conglomerate composed of sandstone, pebbles, and fossil wood until they sloughed off into the sandy bed of the El Capitan Wash. On the west, a great canyon broke from the sheer red walls streaked by pendant black stains.

“Could that be Tsegi'hots'osih?” I asked Sam Jim.

“La! That's Tsegi'hots'osih, the Slender Rock Canyon,” he answered. “A few of my people have little farms up in there.” The name brought to memory a story of the canyon. Sam Day II, “old timer” of the Navajo country, had told it to me long ago. As early as the 1870's, the region had a reputation of having rich gold deposits. Desert rats dared the grim danger of the Navajo and Piutes in their search for the golden will-o'-the-wisp. Many disappeared. Government reports at Fort Defiance state that the bones of some fifteen prospectors lay in the Monument Valley country before 1890.Sam and his brother Charley got the gold bug while they were trading with the Navajos at Chinle. Through the Navajo grapevine they heard tell of rich gold deposits in Tsegi'hots'osih. After a hundred miles pack trip through barren wastes and uninhabited desert, they reached the canyon. They went deep in between the towering red walls. When they reached the section of the canyon where it starts to break, they decided to make camp near a small, rocky knoll. Seeing something white on the ground, they dismounted. It was the skeleton of a burro and the scattered remains of a pack lay nearby. Knowing what they might find, they went on a little further. Scattered over the surface of the grounds lay the bleached bones of one prospector who had never solved the fable of Navajo gold. They left grim Tsegi'hots'osih as fast as their horses could carry them.

The road left the wash and swung in a more easterly direction. Our car started to climb the gradual slope that led towards the Monuments and the crest of the valley. Before us lay a long sandy hill covered with the stubs of broken trees. I was no stranger here, for one hot summer day my car had skidded off the corduroy road and buried deep in the powdery sand. When we drew near, I saw that my fears of getting stuck were needless. A grader had slightly changed the route and a good hard road detoured the shifty, yellow sand.

Soon we left the rolling hills and stretching before us was the straight rutted road that traversed the high plain which rose toMonument Pass. Few, if any, trees graced the level expanse and the predominant flora was scraggly sagebrush, Mormon tea, and greasewood. There was no thick sod, and vegetation grew in scattered tufts separated by open patches of sand and barren, pebble-covered ground. Occasional flocks of Navajo sheep could be seen slowly moving across the plain. Mud covered hogans made light brown cones against darker El Capitan is one of the great volcanic rocks in the Navajo country. It was named in 1858 by Captain John Walker, who led troops against the Navajos and Piutes. (Photo by Milton Snow.) ground. It was hard to realize that these hardy nomads and their flocks could rustle a living from this barren highland. Range men have told me that it takes forty-eight acres of this region to feed one sheep properly and that forty-nine per cent of Monument Valley is of solid rock. is some 180 miles from the railroad at Flagstaff and contests with Reuben Hefflin's Oljato trading post, as the most distant white habitation from a railroad in the United States.

When we reached the summit of Monu ment Pass, we stopped. That was as far north as we planned to go. Some 25 miles ahead was the thrilling suspension bridge across the San Juan and Nevill's trading post and lodge at Mexican Hat. If you have a lot of nerve, you might hire Norm Nevill to take you down the San Juan in the flat bottomed boat that lies in front of his home. Beyond Mexican Hat is quaint old Bluff City and the Mormon villages of southern Utah. Navajo Hill, possibly the toughest hill in the southwest lies between Mexican Hat and Bluff City.

We climbed a small crag. The whole north slope shelved away in a series of gray and lavender benches over which interspersed a number of isolated mesas and ridges standing purple and deep red in their solitary stateliness. We identified Mule Ear, Moses Rock, Alhambra Rock, Train Rock, and Douglas Mesa named after William Boone Douglas who accompanied Dr. Byron Cummings and John Wetherill to the discovery of Rainbow Bridge in 1909.

At the foot of the slope we could see a sudden, deep shadow, sharply contrasting with the gray terrain, where at the bottom of the deep Gooseneck of the San Juan, the muddy river was twisting and gouging her way to join the Colorado at Wild Horse Mesa. A flock of fleecy clouds slowly moved across the sky-line like a band of sheep. When they jostled the indigo peaks of the Blue Mountains, they grew rosy with the reflected light of evening.

The monuments grew larger. Soon we were in Monument Pass, which is not a rockbound pass, but a gap through the Monuments at the crest of the valley. Leaving a cloud of dust settling on the Arizona-Utah state line, we were soon passing the sign that invites the wanderer to rest at Harry Goulding's trading post and guest ranch, a mile and a half west of the main road. Goulding built this post in 1926. It Near at hand, the sheer sides of Mitchell Butte rose. Oddly shaped vertical planes reflected various shades from buff to deep red. In the north, Mitten Butte pointed (Turn to Page 36) Yeibitchi dancers with the Totem Pole on the right end of the ridge.