It was our last day of Fall Break. We woke up in the Cottonwood Campground in Canyon de Chelly in plenty of time to strike camp and head over to the Thunderbird Lodge for our spendy tour. But first, news about the campground.
The evening before we had driven up the South Rim to check out some of the overlooks--you know, look down into the canyon. There were several hogans up there, a variety of homes and dwellings. Back at camp, we had dinner and it quickly grew dark. We noticed several cars pulling into the campground and briefly parking in the site neighboring ours, cutting their lights, and heading to a certain destination. I mean, everybody was headed to this place which was fifty yards from our picnic table. This kept happening over and over. Some were quiet and stealthy. Some would chit-chat with others. Nobody stayed long. It was really dark so we couldn't see a thing. At first I asked, "Honey, what's going on? Do you think they're cutting drug deals?" I mean, the campground attendant had been off duty since five. We could hear a little clanking around, but we couldn't figure out what was going on. So, when there happened to be a quiet moment, we walked over there together and what did we discover with our Petzls? A WATER SPIGOT! ALL of these people were stealing water from the campground under the cover of darkness. We went back to our table and sure enough, a truck pulls into the same site everyone else was pulling into. This time, there were about four people and they started unloading jug after jug from the back of the pickup. They carried, filled, hauled, and repeated.
Okay, back to the following morning. We met up with Ron, our Navajo guide and truck driver who would be taking us into the canyon, since you're not allowed to venture in by yourself unless you hike this one trail from the top and hike right back out on the same trail. Everything else is very controlled. We were the last ones on the back of the truck and happened to get seats up front.
Ron has been a guide for twenty years and he knew just how to drive in that deeeeep sand! It was a very bumpy ride. Ron was so good at driving this terrain that he did most of it one-handed, because he always seemed to have coffee in his other hand.
He didn't have much of a safety message, but he did greet us and so I snapped a photo of him. Right after that, he said we could take a picture of anything in the canyon except for Navajo people. So, I guess I won't post that picture of Ron. He asked everyone if we had layers because it's cold in the canyon in the morning. "Shadow," he said. He said that's why they call it Canyon de Chilly (insert laughter here). Someone asked him what the Navajo people farm in the canyon. Ron said, "Oh, a lot of things: peaches, apples, apricots, tomatoes, potatoes, corn, marijuana, peyote." Classic. When he mentioned the people living up on the rim, I asked about water without spilling the beans about the spigot at the campground. Ron said people have Chinle water on the North Rim, but there's no water on the South Rim. In fact, South Rim just barely got electricity in 1999. Ron will be unemployed as of 3 November because the tour company is shutting down. He said he will go back home and live for free. "You can always go back home. I'll just let my bills go." We dutifully purchased Navajo Fry Bread at one of the stops and enjoyed all there was to see. K bought a pot when he found out they take Visa down there in the bottom of the canyon. It was a beautiful morning!
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