"They're not TRASH BINS"

As promised, Part II - Mesa Verde was one of the neatest archeological sites no one knows anything about. I mean, they know a few, general things about the Anasazi (now referred to in political correctness as the "Ancestral Puebloans," as mispronunciation of Anasazi changes the meaning from "Ancient Ones" to "Ancient Enemy - *lol! *cultural insensitivity) but the obvious questions of 1) why did these non-warfaring people decide to leave the mesa tops and surrounding valleys for the cliffs and 2) why did they leave again in just under a few hundred years (after all that architectural effort?) remain unanswered.

There are, of course, theories, but that's the really frustrating part about archaeology - you really just had to be there. As someone who, in another poorer, dirtier, more difficult life, would've been an archaeologist, I think inability to confirm such critical theory would be the most frustrating part of the job (in addition to the 3rd degree sunburns and daily sandbaths I would surely receive.)

Tickling the archaeologist in me, we took a series of tours that allowed us to access the cliffside dwellings via 40 foot ladders. With ginger steps, we poked in and around the tunnels and doorways of the 800 year old ruins. The kivas and stacked sandstone pueblos were surprisingly cool, shaded from the radiating Colorado sun by the water-carved overhangs of the mesa wall. The lucky ones had filtered water springs on location; the unlucky would have to travel up and down the canyon walls in search of the carefully rationed resource.

After a long day of hiking, climbing, crawling, and speculating, Jason and I indulged in a wholly Mex-American bastardization of an Indian lunch - a Fry Bread beef and bean chili open face taco, with cheese, sour cream, and a smattering of salsa. It doesn't get less authentic than that! But mmm, mmm was it good, despite its cultural offensiveness. I'm pretty sure the Native Americans sitting at the table next to us were shaking their heads in utter disgust.

***Highlight! A small boy in our group keenly asked the park guide what the cliff dwellers did when someone died. Hesitantly, she tried to explain that they were often buried in the middens, or heaps where the day's refuse were tossed. "You mean they threw them in the TRASH?!?!" the boy asked. "Um, no...the middens aren't TRASH BINS.... they're... um... just where the Native Americans... return things to the Earth that they are finished using...."

Like when we throw things in the trash.

The kid nodded sagely, apparently knowing better than to pursue that line of thought.

A good place to end in preparation for Part III...