Canyon de Chelly

You see the tiny ruins there in the center? They are not so tiny up close;

that's just how massive the canyon is.

Friday morning we got up pretty early and headed west from Grants , crossing the Arizona border. Along the way we stopped at Hubbell Trading Post, which has been in existence for more than 130 years. It is on Navajo reservation land and has displays of amazing Navajo pottery, blankets, jewelry and baskets.

We then continued north to Chinle, Arizona, which is a couple of hours into the interior of a huge Navajo reservation in northeastern Arizona. The drive through “the rez” was really eye-opening. Signs are often in two languages (English and Navajo) and there are many farms that have regular buildings but also the traditional octagonal Navajo hogan structures on them. There is a lot of poverty, and many people get by with essentially subsistence farming or ranching. The landscape is beautiful but pretty harsh and dry. The town of Chinle has a few more businesses, including some restaurants and motels, because it is a bit of a tourist destination. Like the other tourists who drive into Chinle, we were there to see Canyon de Chelly (pronounced “d’shay”).

The canyon is incredibly beautiful. It is mostly red sandstone, eroded over centuries to create amazing cliffs, piers, ledges, and slopes. Besides the natural beauty, Canyon de Chelly is famous because of its human history. Archaeologists believe that it has been inhabited more or less continuously for nearly 5000 years. They have found evidence of nomadic tribes passing through that long ago, using the alcoves in the canyon for shelter. Later, people began farming on the floor of the canyon, where the walls provided some protected areas to grow plants in less extreme conditions than in the surrounding desert. Starting in about 750 AD, the canyon was home to the Anasazi (ancestors of the modern-day Pueblo and Hopi Indians), who built villages in protected nooks and crannies. The Anasazi more or less abandoned the canyon around 1300, and for a few hundred years it was again just a seasonal stopping place for groups on the move. The Navajo began living here around 1700 and have been here ever since, with the exception of periods of turmoil caused by conflict with the Spanish, with other tribes, or with the U.S. (including a 4-year period where they were kicked out and interned at Ft. Sumner in NM before being allowed to return). Some Navajo still live in and around the canyon, farming or selling traditional crafts or working as tour guides.

We took a beautiful drive around part of the rim of the canyon, stopping at overlook points to gape at the rock formations. At many overlook points, there were also telescopes fixed upon a point in a facing wall where there are ruins of ancient buildings still wedged into the alcoves in the canyon. There are many parts of the canyon where you cannot go without a Navajo guide, but there is one hike down that is open to the public, so we did that. The White House Trail goes down a steep slope and across the floor of the canyon to a spot pretty close to some well-preserved Anasazi ruins. It was a fun hike and mind-boggling scenery, although it was about 100 degrees and we were glad we brought lots of water.

White House Ruins

After our hike, our last stop was out at the end of the main tourist road, where there is one last overlook with awesome views into a section of the canyon that contains Spider Rock, a huge spire that rises 800 feet straight up from the canyon floor. It is a really incredible sight.

Spider Rock.

After our day at the canyon, we drove back to the little town of Chinle for an early bedtime. Not a wild and crazy Friday night for us, but it was a great day. The only other thing to add about our stop in Canyon de Chelly is that, although we did love it, it affirmed that we were doing the right thing by rerouting our trip to skip Arches, Bryce and Zion National Parks. One day of hiking around in 100+ degree heat was exhausting, and a good confirmation of our thoughts that we didn’t want to sign up for another 8 days. We are determined to go back and have a great trip to those three parks when we can really enjoy it.

The reason for our early night was that we woke up very very early. We were on the road before 5 AM (mountain time) and although I am not normally a morning person I was so glad that we did this. The drive through the reservation lands at dawn was truly beautiful and peaceful, and there was no one on the roads. We saw a gorgeous sunrise and it was just us and the occasional horses, cows and birds, and the rugged landscape all around.


By 7 or so we were out of the reservation and back onto the interstate. We made two little stops just off the highway that morning. One was a tiny little county park that offered a great view of what they call the Little Painted Desert; again, we had it all to ourselves. The other stop was in a funny little town on what used to be the famous Route 66, called Winslow, Arizona, immortalized in the Eagles song “Take It Easy.” We stopped on a corner in the downtown area that they clearly set up for goofy tourists like us, and took a couple of photos, and then we were on our way again.

Little Painted Desert. Hard to see here but it looked really cool.

The drive through the rest of Arizona was surprisingly beautiful and a smooth drive. I had been disappointed at the lack of sunflowers in Kansas but Arizona made up for it; for miles on I-40, there were small wild sunflowers all over the sides of the road. A few hours later, we were breezing through the security checkpoint at the Hoover Dam. The Prius’s outdoor temp reading was 108. The water level at Lake Mead (the reservoir formed by the Hoover Dam) is very low and going lower. Shortly after that, we rolled into Vegas. Neither of us have ever been, and we’re just walking around with our mouths hanging open. I will let Chris tell you all about Vegas, but fans of the Will Ferrell movie “Anchorman” will be pleased to know that the last couple of days, from the Navajo reservation to Las Vegas, I can’t count the number of times we’ve looked at each other and shrugged and said, “When in Rome…”