Requiem for a Park
It was right on time when I rolled into the parking lot at Homolovi. Jody was already there, but no one else. The wind was blowing from the south and clouds were low and dense. A fitting day to observe the demise of a park. I went into the Visitor's Center to see the rangers packing things into boxes with no lights on. Grim atmosphere. 40% all books and art to get it to move. I had planned to pick some books up later in the day, but it didn't end up happening. Back in the parking lot it was still just Jody and myself. "How long should we give them?" she asked.
"It's 10. Let's do it."
We drove to the north end of the park where Homolovi II is located. We made our way up the paved path under gusty breezes, and then branched out on a lesser-known trail to a canyon filled with petroglyphs. The wind died down and we enjoyed poking around, looking for signs of ancient inhabitants. Back on the rim the wind was back at full force as we hiked back over to Homolovi II.
We spent two hours wandering the ruin and looking at the incredible artifacts. We both commented on how all the amazing things we were seeing would no doubt be snapped up by the lazy and greedy as soon as the park shuttered on the 22nd.
Finally sherded out, we headed back down the road to an unassuming knoll, where we poked around and found some old 'glyphs. Nothing else caught our attention, however, so we hit the road again for the Twin Butte area.
We found very odd and enigmatic 'glyphs around the Twin Buttes saddle area, but not much else until the Surprise Boulder. We turned the corner on a knoll and surprise! there was a boulder decked with clear, crisp petroglyphs. A few minutes later Jody came across a nice, large corn cob. But was it ancient, or a cast-off KFC leftover? Not for us to guess.
The weather was growing progressively gloomier but we decided to follow a tip Jody had about some more rock art to the east, but the hail and the dubious directions put the kibosh on that idea - this time. We parted over the roar of semi-trucks and bid a sad farewell to beautiful park, too little known and too little loved; abandoned by the state. RIP Homolovi Ruins State Park. I hope you can rise again.