Rainbow Bridge the Real Way By Douglas Haag Canyonlands Field Institute (CFI) of Moab guides a five-day hike to Rainbow Bridge near Lake Powell in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. Pack stock, in a separate and distant train, carry the camp and cooking gear. The easier and much more popular way to Rainbow Bridge is by houseboat, but to walk to this magnificent work of nature over rugged ground for four days is the harder way. The way of the Navajo almost a century ago. We met in tiny Bluff on a beautiful southern Utah spring evening to be briefed by CFI Director and Naturalist-Guide, Karla VanderZanden. Karla had enlisted her friend from Moab, Jose Tejada, to come along as a swamper (a backcountry term for general helper). Jose, a bear of a man with jet-black hair and full beard, both sprinkled with silver, had just acquired ownership of the river company where he has guided for over 22 years, Sheri Griffith Expeditions. He's full of wit, stories and a delight to have along.  At Navajo Mountain Village, a community of some 200 Natives scattered widely across the high desert, we met our Navajo hosts, the gracious Atene family. Looking west their sacred mountain rises from the village base at 6500 feet to 10,300. Navajo sandstone, juniper cedars, pinion, black bush and a myriad of cactus and flowers painted a glorious springtime in the desert.
Soon we met the patriarch, grandpa Buck Navajo (his real name) and mother Rose, a traditional Navajo who lives the old way for part of the year - in a Hogan, tending her large flock of sheep with the help of some capable and independent dogs. Son Eric was to be our pack master, with the help of a relative, Randall from Monument Valley, a genuine cowboy with rodeo scars to prove it. Atene family members - Eric's brother, sisters, his wife Charlene and 11-year old nephew Andrew, a budding wrangler in his own right, joined us. Several had earned college degrees and said that education is an important factor in getting meaningful jobs. However, they wish to continue to respect, maintain and live their culture and heritage.
That evening, the family retold the history of the Navajo Mountain Community, located in an isolated and remote western part of the Navajo reservation.
In 1864, Kit Carson was rounding up all Navajos to move them to New Mexico. Led by Hoshkinini, 26 men, women and children hid out in the labyrinthine canyons on the north slopes of Navajo Mountain. They successfully eluded Kit and his boys in blue. These 26 are the strong-willed ancestors of the present-day community of Navajo Mountain. Never signed a treaty and never conquered. And rightly proud of it today. In 1868 the government allowed the Navajos to return to their ancestral home.
After dinner, 82 year-old Buck Navajo chanted a very touching and spiritual prayer of blessing asking for a safe journey for us to Navajo Bridge, a very sacred place for them.
Around the fire, Karla told of the first Anglos to see the bridge. In 1909 there were persistent rumors that the Navajos knew of a large stone bridge in a remote canyon. Two Anglos hired Paiute guides, Nasja Begay and Jim Mike. They were in direct competition with each other, eager to be the first to "discover" the bridge. Although Begay actually knew where the bridge was, and Jim Mike was only guessing, the two parties eventually agreed to work together and raced onward. Begay held the secret to the way because he knew of a steep slot canyon that led down into a tributary of Bridge Canyon. Today, near the bridge, there are two plaques mounted on the sandstone wall that acknowledges the efforts of Begay and Jim Mike in leading the two white men to the site. Good for them! The local Indians first found it first - not the Anglos!
After a long and memorable day we pitched tents among the trees around the Atene's home. That evening we were serenaded by dogs, coyotes, horses and burros under a gazillion stars, and sleep came easy.
 After early breakfast, Eric, Charlene, Randall and Andrew loaded gear on the horses and mules and we started hiking, Karla setting the pace, Jose at the rear. That morning we stopped to see an old Hogan lived in by a Paiute named Toby Owl who died about 15 years ago. His Hogan was left undisturbed. The landscape was beautiful, going west along the north side of Navajo Mountain. Red sandstone cliffs, streams in the washes, views of the Kaiparowits Plateau far to the northwest. And the flowers! The desert in full and glorious bloom! Always the backdrop, Navajo Mountain, its peak covered with snow. By our break for lunch and to 'pump' water, we had crossed Cha and Bald Rock Canyons. Eric and his pack train passed us and went on to our evening's campsite, Surprise Valley, that is a part (romance!) of Zane Grey's book, The Rainbow Trail. A stunningly beautiful place. We hiked 6 miles this day - not long, but strenuous with all the ups and downs. A bath in the nearby stream was cold, but refreshing and the mating frogs provided a delightful serenade that night.
The next day Charlene left us and rode one of the horses back home after breakfast. As we hiked out of Surprise Valley we passed Owl Bridge, named for Toby Owl's family.
We lunched in Oak Creek Canyon. Today's hike was only 5 miles but again had many elevation changes that are hard on my right knee. We went down Nasja Begay's secret slot canyon leading into a tributary of Bridge Canyon, steep and rocky but we reached our evening camp about 2:30 p.m. The weather was threatening, so we pitched tents in a hurry. An hour later, we had a hard rain and the storm produced some rolling thunder like I had never heard before, some rumblings continuing for almost a half a minute.
The last leg was only about 3½ miles, but all downhill, even harder on my aching knees. We hiked down Bridge Canyon to the confluence of Red Bud Creek, where the more difficult backpack route around the south of the mountain meets the Bridge Trail. That afternoon, I had my first glimpse of the great Rainbow Bridge - awesome!
It was still about a mile away, but so immense that I could see a piece of it down canyon. About a half mile later I reached camp, but was too hurting to go on to the bridge. We were all "doin' our own thing" in the canyon and going at our own pace, some taking a dip in plunge pools, others meditating, and all taking in the unbelievable scenery. 80 years ago, the campsite had been a stopover for tourists who would ride down the Red Bud Trail one day, view the bridge and ride out the next. All that is left of the camp today is a few rusting metal bed frames and springs, but they still made for a bit more comfort than the hard ground!
Before our final dinner, we camped under high sandstone cliffs and watched cliff swallows do their aerial circus act up and around. Then, suddenly they would disappear over the edge, as if they had enough insects for their evening meal. After dinner Eric told us a bit about the Atene family and his desire to keep their culture alive. Eric and Charlene have three young sons and he's a teacher at the Montezuma Creek Community elementary school.
On the last day we hiked to the base of the bridge, revered by the Navajo. We all paused while Eric offered a silent prayer, which allowed us to pass beneath the span towering above. Nobody spoke while we all walked slowly through. Soon, the waters of Lake Powell appeared below. Eric, his crew and pack animals had to start the return trip because the horses were eager to get home. It would take them only six hours. Throughout the hike, I marveled at how they could keep their stock from straying too far, for they hobbled only one horse. But they still had to round them up each morning. Eric, Randall and Andrew just seemed to love to chase horses. It seemed they would let them loose on purpose, just so they could chase them. It was a poignant parting from these new friends.
Two miles down the trail we came to the dock where boats met us for the trip up Lake Powell. One final venture was a visit to the Cathedral in the Desert, a fantastic grotto complete with a waterfall and small sand beach beneath. Soon, the lake's rising waters, about nine inches a day, will leave the entire site beneath the surface. Who knows when it will re-appear? Sadly, perhaps never. We completed our five-day loop late afternoon and said our goodbyes to newfound hiking friends. Hopefully, we'll all meet again on the Rainbow Trail with the Atene family, Jose and our gracious hostess, Karla. We were all quiet with our own thoughts. Mine were of a hike that this hiker will never forget.
Douglas Haag lives in Boulder City, Nevada. Since his retirement he has been a volunteer hike leader for ten years at Lake Mead National Recreation Area for the National Park Service. Doug's book is titled 15 Winter Hikes in Lake Mead National Recreation Area.
|
