DESTINATION:

the old gallery, Dean delights in telling stories of the days when Hubert was still alive and very much in charge.

"He was not 'aanii-he was the trader," she declares.

Only about 5 feet 5 inches tall, with a bald, freckled head, Hubert wore glasses and had "blue eyes that were always dancing." Fluent in the Navajo language, he enjoyed the respect of the locals, many of them from Gray Mountain, who came in to trade sheep wool, lambs, rugs and piñon nuts.

Older Navajos would arrive on payday, dressed in their best velvet and jewelry, and fill the backs of their pickup trucks with goods. Then they'd sit out front and catch up on gossip, often with Hubert.

"They would tell stories and he would tell stories," Atkinson says.

Dean explains that the post would make sure every newborn baby received a small silver bracelet. And they still stock a good supply of wool Pendleton blankets in rich jewel-tone colors that are in demand for Navajo and Hopi ceremonies.

Like many reservation trading posts, Cameron also keeps a large inventory of fine Navajo rugs for sale. Weaver Elsie Glander has created incredible pieces at her loom in the post. She just finished her second 9by 12-foot rug, an exquisite storm pattern style. Obviously proud and pleased to have it completed, Glander says she undertakes such monumental projects because it's a challenge. Her exquisite rugs bear price tags of about $20,000, according to Mike Davis, general manager of the trading post.

Cameron has welcomed its share of celebrity guests over the years, Errol Flynn, John Wayne and Zane Grey among them. It is not uncommon to spot current stars such as Susan Sarandon, Sylvester Stallone or Goldie Hawn strolling the gallery and gift shop. Today, busloads of Grand Canyon-bound tourists stop at the store for an ice cream cone, while in the dining room some travelers get their first taste of a Navajo taco-a plateful of fry bread mounded with chili, lettuce, tomatoes and grated cheese. Cook Greg Morales says he turns out upward of 50 tacos on a busy summer day.

to spot current stars such as Susan Sarandon, Sylvester Stallone or Goldie Hawn strolling the gallery and gift shop. Today, busloads of Grand Canyon-bound tourists stop at the store for an ice cream cone, while in the dining room some travelers get their first taste of a Navajo taco-a plateful of fry bread mounded with chili, lettuce, tomatoes and grated cheese. Cook Greg Morales says he turns out upward of 50 tacos on a busy summer day.

Through the early 1900s, Hubert and C.D. ran Cameron and other posts in Navajo country, including Blue Canyon, Red Lake, Shonto and Inscription House. The extended family of Southwestern traders was a close-knit one-the Richardsons, Bolins, Turpens and Atkinsons were all cousins, explains Dean.

Joe Atkinson, great-nephew of the Richardson brothers, relates the "real history of Cameron." The Richardsons heard of a place where a bridge crossed the Little Colorado near the homes of quite a few Navajo families with whom they could trade. So Hubert and C.D. started out in a small log structure on a knoll, soon moving a short distance away on the south side of the river, where they built a rock and tin-roofed store. In 1928, they added a three-story building that served as a small hotel and Hubert's home for several years.

That one-lane steel suspension bridge across the Little Colorado, built in 1911, was due partly to the influence of Ralph H. Cameron, Coconino County sheriff, Arizona state senator and the man for whom the small community is named. Before that time, people had to ford the flash-flood-prone, quicksand-choked riverupstream at Tanners Crossing. The “black bridge” served area travelers until 1958, when the current highway bridge was constructed next to it.

Despite all the changes over the years at Cameron Trading Post, Atkinson says, they always try to carry on the tradition of Hubert Richardson. The only problem, as local Navajos will warn, is that every time changes are undertaken, “strange things happen.” No doubt it's just Hubert, up to his mischievous ways. AH LOCATION: 195 miles north of Phoenix, 54 miles north of Flagstaff. GETTING THERE: Take Interstate 17 north to Flagstaff. Take U.S. Route 89 north out of Flagstaff to Cameron at the junction with State Route 64. The trading post is on the west side of U.S. 89, just before the bridge. PHONE NUMBERS: 800 numbers are toll-free. HOURS: Open every day, all year; restaurant, 6 A.M. to 10 P.M. (Mountain Standard Time). LODGING: To reserve a motel room, call (800) 338-7385, ext. 414. TRAVEL ADVISORY: The Cameron Trading Post is located on the Navajo Indian Reservation. The reservation observes daylight-saving time, but the rest of Arizona does not. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: (928) 679-2231 or www.camerontradingpost.com.

THINGS TO DO IN CAMERON CAMERON VISITOR CENTER/RANGER STATION

Located at the junction of U.S. Route 89 and State Route 64, this is the place to glean essential information for traveling on the Navajo Indian Reservation, including tribal camping and hiking permits. Open Monday to Friday, 8 Α.Μ. to 5 P.M.; Cameron, 679-2303.

LITTLE COLORADO RIVER VISTAS

Along State Route 64 between Cameron and Desert View, take in scenic vistas of the Little Colorado gorge at two overlooks. The easternmost stop offers plenty of parking and often an Indian market selling jewelry and other arts and crafts.

GRAND CANYON NATIONAL PARK

Cameron is the gateway to the East Rim of the Grand Canyon, with the East Entrance Station on State 64, 33 miles west of Cameron. Park admission is $20 per vehicle. For recorded park information, 638-7888; for hotel reservations in Grand Canyon National Park, (303) 297-2757.

along the way BOLA TIES Still Have the West by the Neck

MY FIRST CLUE THAT BOLA ties were special came some 30 years ago in a Tombstone saloon when an old cowboy gave me the bola from around his neck. I presume he wanted some reciprocal show of affection, which he didn't get, but I have the bola around here somewhere.

That was right after Arizona christened the bola tie its official state neckwear. The Grand Canyon State couldn't make do with just the regular state bird and flower and flag and tree. No, for some reason it needed to have the governor's stamp of approval on a necklace worn by Western men.

That's how I saw a bola in those days-a political joke. If you'd have asked me if I'd ever consider wearing one, I would have laughed. I thought it was a fad, a bad fad, like the Nehru jacket or bell-bottom pants.

We all live and learn, and I admit I was totally wrong about bola ties. I can see that with my own eyes every time I walk into the internationally acclaimed Heard Museum's gift shop and scan the wall of bolas (plus those under glass, where the asking price starts at $3,000). Or when I shop at exclusive Garland's in Sedona, where they sell some 250 bolas a year and have twice that many on hand. Or when I walk into any of the seven Gilbert Ortega stores that are so popular with tourists and where bolas always have been popular. Or when I look in my very own closet at the halfdozen bolas I now own and wear.

Obviously bolas can be worn everywhere; I constantly see them at concerts and plays and sporting events-just try to go anywhere in the West and not see one. I get the impression that men put on their fancy bolas-the bigger, the better-when they want to be "dressed up."

For years, you could see a bola every night around the neck of Phoenix television newsman Bill Close, who was so devoted to this neckwear he became known as "Mr. Bola Tie." His collection of 247 ties now graces the Desert Caballeros Western Museum in Wickenburg.

Yes, the bola has come a long way since it was first called the "piggin' necktie," a cowboy reference to a pigging string, the 6-foot thong used to hog-tie calves. Thankfully, that name didn't last. Legend has it that some 60 years ago, a Wickenburg man named Victor E. Cedarstaff fashioned the first bola tie by chance when he lost his hat in a windstorm, but not before he saved his silver-tipped and -buckled headband by slipping it around his neck. "Nice tie you've got there, Vic," a friend remarked, and the rest is history.

Since then, fashion designers have recognized the beauty of the bola, Hollywood and Manhattan have borrowed its Western flair and Arizona politicians-both men and women-have collected and worn them.

"Each tie says something special about the wearer," says Sheila Kollasch, former curator of the Desert Caballeros Western Museum. "They can be humorous or serious, beautiful or outrageous, tasteful or whimsical."

As far as the city of Phoenix is concerned, bolas will always be hot, and it put its money where its tie was in funding a permanent art installation at the Civic Plaza devoted to "Arizona's most regional icon." Artist Michael A. Maglich created 59 bronze sculptures, each a bola tie representing the various industries, flora and fauna vital to Arizona. As a local newspaper review noted, "This is not your father's bola tie." But you could call the sculptures "bizarre bolas," because one is a sprinkler head, another a spark plug, another a corkscrew. They may be funky and funny, but they do what art intendsmake you think.

A male governor signed the proclamation making bolas the official state neckwear, but it was Arizona's first female governor who handed out bolas from her office. Native Arizonan and former governor Rose Mofford says she had bolas made out of replicas of the state seal and considers this particular piece of jewelry an example of what made the West great. She naturally owns several bolas herself, including a favorite that is a big beaded red rose.

My own bolas, collected over the years, include a large silver piece decorated with coral and turquoise that I found in a secondhand store and one with a fanciful "dancer" figure covered with colorful stones that I scored at an auction.

So even I can grow up to be smart enough to appreciate the bola tie as an enduring fashion statement and Arizona icon. AH