Mesa Verde. We did our last tour today and once again were blown away by the feelings of wonder. Last March Zak snagged us tickets for the Mug House tour. This tour is special. Only given twice a week during the summer season and only in even years. The group size is restricted to 10 individuals and it is not marked on any park map. It is that special.
We met our small group and Ranger Kialey at 9:15, introduced ourselves, and began the 2ish mile hike to Mug House. The first mile was along the road and the second was down into the canyon, past two other archaeological sites. We saw reminents of fires and pottery usage. We learned how to look at an alcove and determine where walls had once been. We learned at one site that none of the building materials remained and were possibly recycled when the Jones moved to Mug House and everyone else wanted to keep up.
Our hike down along the cliff continued until we turned a corner and our eyes laid upon a simple, yet beautiful cliff dwelling ruin. Mug House. Named for the four mugs tied together with yucca twine when excavated in the 1960s.
We were fortunate to do this exact tour during rtxvi and I was a bit concerned that I would feel “been there, done that.” Couldn’t of been further from the truth. It was, once again, inspiring, educational, and full of adventure. We learned that 27 mugs had been found throughout the entire site, there was corn found in every single one of the 100 rooms, eight kivas and two towers seem to be the focus, probably as they were 600 years ago. Ranger Kialey was incredibly knowledgeable and patiently answered our questions.
When we go to these sites it is our instinct to be quiet, whisper softly, walk gently. It seems respectful of truly sacred land. As we, often silently, take the sites in, it is hard to remember that these places, homes, communities weren’t at all quiet. There were well designed plazas for socializing. Kids were playing, trying to copy their moms who were making pottery. (We’ve seen tiny replicas of large pieces, made my children who wanted to be like mom.) Stones were such an important tool, and I like to imagine the sound of the manos smashing against metates as corn is ground. I hear songs and humming as everyday life occurs. I hear the domesticated turkeys gobble and pet dogs barking, protecting, playing. It sounds happy to me.
We left Mesa Verde and I promised we would be back. Soon. It is a place I know is full of so many more lessons.
We went back to the cute bakery in Mancos for lunch and then spent the afternoon catching up on errands, groceries and laundry, blogging and lots of swimming for the girls.
The day and our time in Cortez is ending with one final stop to Moose and More. Last night I had the honey blue cornbread ice cream and it was perfection. Today I did the berry pie, equally as delicious. And for the second night in a row a rainbow arced over the evening sky as much needed rain fell.
