We found no obstructions on the road and by three o’clock we arrived at relatively cool Navajo National Monument at 7,300 ft. elevation. (It was still around 85° which we call hot!) There was a mob of cars, trucks, fire engines, an ambulance, a swarm of rangers and people around the visitor’s center.
A young man politely handed us a yellow flyer listing the activities for “Drums of Summer”, a festival already in action.KTNN Voice of the Navajo Nation
Camping? The lower, paved section was cordoned off, being used for additional parking. Directed to the upper, “primitive” camp, we were lucky to be in time to claim one of the 20 sites. It was level, not too close to neighbors, near to a porta-potty, and nestled in a “forest” of scrubby pinyon pines and junipers.
Betatakin CanyonNavajo National Monument protects several puebloan ruins from the ancestors of the Hopi people. The two main ruins, Betatakin and Keet Seel, are accessible by trails from the visitors center.
Jean couldn’t resist the invitation to drums and dancing, drank a cup of lemonade, put her camera round her neck, her red hat on her head and headed down the hill to mingle. At the first road intersection, a ranger said, “Yes, it is permitted to take photographs” and pointing across the street, “There is a nice level trail to the visitor’s center with great views of the canyon and the cliff dwellings.” I sauntered along, checking out the flora to my right and canyon views to my left, stopping now and then for a photo, hearing drums thumping not too far away.
Not many people sat in the rows of folding chairs; most sought a bit of shade under the pinyon pines behind them, or on the other side, shelter of the visitor’s center building.
Young man dancing
The young drum groupTwo drum groups competed; four young men and four mature men seated around their large drum, chanted loudly with grating voices as they all beat synchronously. I never did hear who won, but my bet was on the young ones who were a little more harmonious.
People wandered here and there, to give a short handshake and greet someone they knew, or over to the refreshment stand for a fry-bread ($2.00 plain) and a soft drink.
Costumed children were then urged out to dance to the drum-chant. They circled round and round with a shuffling repetitive movement - step, step, cross one foot over, step. All but one held their heads bent forward, eyes on the ground. The pre-teen in red, carrying a fan of turkey feathers, held her head erect throughout, squinting in the glare of the sun.
Miss Navajo, a tall, fair of face young woman in her early twenties, wearing a gold crown, spoke in English then in the local language, drawing appreciative laughter from the audience. Later she moved among the crowd, graciously greeting everyone (including me) with the short handshake and a few pleasant words. Another young woman spoke about “going out” to college on a basketball scholarship and her hope to return to be useful to her people.
By 6:30 there was no sign of other costumed dancers, so I trudged the mile back up the hill to our camp. We could not hear the drums or people from there, with the high elevation, we had a cool, comfortable night’s rest.
Just before leaving in the morning, I walked over to the nearby patch of slickrock to photograph Spider-wort, Tradescantia occidentalis whose delicate sky blue flowers, closed yesterday evening, were now wide open.
Spider-wort (Tradescantia occidentalis)
And next, on to Mesa Verde.
