| |
|
| | |
|
| Hiking | 1.00 Miles |
80 AEG |
| | Hiking | 1.00 Miles | 1 Hour | | 1.00 mph |
| 80 ft AEG | | | | |
|
|
| |
| Linked |
|
none
[ show ]
| no linked trail guides |
| Partners |
|
none
[ show ]
| no partners | | I left Casamero, heading north. I was making for Kin Bineola by way of Borrego Pass and Crownpoint - routes rarely traveled by folks who don't live in the area. The feeling of isolation crossing the lonely desert rising towards the continental divide was almost a physical feeling. Another truck would pass in the opposite direction, and nothing for a long period of time. Outside of Borrego Pass I cam to road construction. No flaggers, no signs, just a sudden berm in the road and a grader at work. I could either get bogged down in the soft dirt or skirt the construction at high speed over the open desert as a truck in front of me did. The choice was obvious. I jounced and bounced along, and then roared back up onto the pavement as I crested the divide at Borrego Pass. I noted that there was a functioning gas station at the pass, which could save my bacon at some future point.
The decent back into the San Juan Basin was bright and dry. Twin pillars of coal dust rose on the northeastern horizon, a reminder of where I had been earlier. The ground dropped away and the now-paved road aimed me like an arrow at Crownpoint. While Crownpoint stands head and shoulders above Pueblo Bonito in terms of a place to live, it is far from the most inviting community. It has an air to it of despair, of just being on the edge. The tan desert radiates north, west, and east from it, while the plateau dominates the south. Crownpoint clings to a ridge, trying to stay above the hostile desert.
I grabbed gas, a soda (which exploded on me) and a hot dog at the Giant gas station in uptown Crownpoint for cheap, and hit the road again (after a detour to the Crownpoint Boarding School). 371 left town on a cardinal heading - north, along the great axis upon which the world turns. The wind was screaming in from the west, buffeting the Explorer. A whirlwind crossed the lonely flats to the west. An appropriate omen - Kin Bineola means "House of the Whirlwind". I kept my eyes peeled for the landmarks - a gray water tank and a sign for the Lake Valley chapterhouse. It came into view and I veered off the highway and down yet another bumpy, sandy, rocky backroad across the interior of northwestern New Mexico. A blue minivan met me about 2 miles in, heading back towards the highway. I waved and went on my way, finally reaching the earthen dam. I stopped to take a picture of the Kin Bineola sign and then maneuvered across the dam. At the parking area I took the opportunity to drink some more water and read up on Kin Bineola from my new Architecture of Chaco Canyon book before hitting the trail.
While I was reading, though, the Missouri minivan drove up and parked. I guess that they had been unable to find the site, but seeing me they decided I knew where I was going and turned around. What a silly idea - I'd never been there before, but they wouldn't know that. I didn't want to get stuck with people I didn't know exploring the pueblo alongside me, so I set out to hike. I crossed through the hiker's maze and signed the trail register with HAZ. The trail was a NPS service road, so it was easily passable and I soon made the ruins. I poked around for quite some time. There was some awesome remains left standing, including a 2nd story kiva, and a series of aligned doors. These features would be interesting to look at in regards to a social history and the open-ness of the Great House. There appeared to be only one plaza-enclosing wall - leaving the other plaza wide open to the southeast. There was also a road alignment heading towards the southeast, and I thought I could make out a ramp leading to the top of the mesa to the northeast as well, but I could be wrong about that. I climbed a low ridge to where Richard Wetherill had been, taking photos of the ruins, over 100 years earlier. After I finished my exploring on the mesa I hiked back down and along the back wall of the Great House. What an awesome structure!
I beat the minivan tourists back to the parking area (despite the fact that they arrived later and left the site earlier), and I was soon back out at the dam. I faced a choice - either way I had to get back to the highway. Should I go north through Lake Valley or south back the way I came. I thought hard about the northern route, but I was starting to run up against a time barrier, so I reluctantly turned south.
I made good time once back at the paved road. The scenery was amazing as I flew past hoodoos, canyons, salt lakes, and the Bisti badlands. I eventually rolled into Farmington in time to pick up another Lotaburger and head west again. As I crossed the San Juan in Shiprock, I noticed a drifting cloud of haze, high over the Chuskas. As I got closer to the Arizona line I realized that this was smoke from the Shultz Fire, drifting northeast over Sleeping Ute Mountain. Just before Teec Nos Pos I pulled off on a side road and snapped a couple pictures of the plume. By the time I had reached Baby Rocks and Church Rock, the smoke had become a dense haze. I felt like I needed to have my lights on. The smoke dissipated as I drove north on 98, towards Page, and by the time I was home the smoke was just a smudge on the southern horizon. 750 miles of driving in 2 1/2 days for not quite ten miles of hiking. I must be addicted to this whole exploring ancient ruins thing. |
| _____________________
"The only thing we did was wrong was staying in the wilderness to long...the only thing we did was right was the day we started to fight..."
-Old Spiritual
My book, The Marauders on Lulu and Amazon |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
| |
Route Editor
Route Scout
