Canyon de Chelly (pronounced Shay)  National Monument, in Chinle, AZ, is a spectacular canyon unlike anything we have seen elsewhere.  “Canyon de Chelly” is, as the ranger, who is Navajo, put it: a mispronunciation of a mispronunciation of a Navajo word.  The Navajo word is Tséyi, pronounced, roughly, Say-yuh.  The Spanish corrupted that into “de shee yee,” which the Americans then somehow figured should be rendered “Chelly.”  The primary attraction here is the canyon itself, as you can see in the photos, but there are also a number of ruins of cliff dwellings.  People moved here in roughly the 13th century from Mesa Verde (to which they moved from Chaco Canyon, so you can see we have been following the migratory trail).

We arrived at Canyon de Chelly ‘round about lunch time.  We stopped first at the visitor center for the park to find out what there is to see, and then we went off to find some lunch.  As it turned out, nothing with sit-down service was open; we had to deal with carryout.  The choices appeared to be pizza and Church’s Chicken, and we plonked for the latter as it seemed easier to eat in the car. (Oh, I didn’t mention:  no picnic tables anywhere either.)  We pulled into a shady spot at the side of the road to eat our second fried chicken meal in a week (ordinarily we eat fried chicken once a year, on butterfly count day—for the same reason:  it’s relatively easy to eat in the car).  We ordered soft drinks, and it turned out that the ice machine was not working, so we got to drink them warm.  That’s one we haven’t encountered before.

There are two drives along Canyon de Chelly: on along the north rim and one along the sought rim.  The northern route has three overlook points and the southern route has seven; however, one of the seven is closed because the ruins which one hikes down to see have been vandalized.   Some people, I might have mentioned once or twice, just suck.

We decided to do the north drive, and then possibly the south rim drive, if there was enough time remaining.  The overlooks give you spectacular views into the canyon, which is unlike any other canyon we have ever encountered.  The cliffs are sheer—nearly straight down (signs everywhere tell you to keep control of your children and pets, as it is a 700’ drop to the canyon floor), and the contrast between the rock of the canyon walls and the lush green valley below is astonishing.

We finished the north rim drive early—about 2:00, so we had to decide whether we would save the south rim for tomorrow (advice says do the south rim in the afternoon because the light is better), or whether we would try to finish the Canyon de Chelly today and have an extra day to drive to Navaho National Monument tomorrow (not on our original itinerary, but then, what has been, on this trip??!).  We consulted the ranger at Canyon de Chelly as to what there was to see and do at Navaho.  If there was too much for a day, then it would be better to save it for another trip.  His advice was that there is really only one trail at Navaho, about a mile roundtrip, to an overlook where you can see the Betatakin Ruins.  So we decided to finish Canyon de Chelly today and head south tomorrow.

The south rim has more overlooks, all equally spectacular to those on the north rim.  We started out and stopped at the first one, but when we turned out of the parking lot there, we found ourselves behind a jeep which was on fire.   Yes, you read that right.  Our second fire of the trip (and, weirdly, our second “first on the scene for a car fire” experience in a year.)  The car was right in the middle of the canyon road, but the driver apparently lived right there—made it to within 50 yards of home.  He and his wife were running around getting stuff out of the back and trying to shovel dirt onto the fire to put it out.  Not a bad idea, but it wasn’t working.  We asked if we needed to call 911; he said he had tried, but could not get a line.  (Not surprising—we are way out in the boonies here!).  Tim and I both tried again, and I actually managed to get through.  Fire truck en route.  Meanwhile, we backed way off in case real life should decide to emulate television and the car exploded. 

The fire truck arrived in pretty good time—about 10 minutes, which, as I assume this is a volunteer fire department, was about as fast as one could expect—and they set to work.  Eventually, we noticed that the traffic heading the other way was all turning down a dirt road just short of the fire, so apparently there was some way around.   We consulted Google maps, which, once we zoomed it in all the way down to the furthest possible level, disgourged a route.  We decided to try it, as we had already lost about an hour.  We turned around and headed out.  We ended up following a school bus through a neighborhood and up a dirt road.  Street sign says “This road is maintained for school bus traffic only,” which we took to mean that you’d better have good axles and springs, so fingers crossed.  We made it up the barely-maintained road without incident and did, indeed, come out the other side of the fire.  By this time, it was out, and we got a good look at the totally burned-out shell.  This is the second time on this trip we have been delayed by fire—you may remember that the California Zephyr was delayed for awhile by a fire in a railroad tie yard.

At any rate, we recommenced our trip along the south canyon road.  All beautiful—I’ve posted photos.  We had plenty of time to finish before dark.

We had dinner in the hotel restaurant.  It was pretty good, but, weirdly, the ice machine was broken.  It seemed highly unlikely that the two restaurants we chose to patronize today were both having problems with the ice machine and those problems be unrelated, but the waiter in the hotel just said that a part broke.  They had recently had it fixed, but now it was broken again.  They expect someone in on Tuesday to work on it.  We think that what we’re seeing here is the general problem of life on a reservation in this country.  They’re remote, so stuff has to get trucked in further and they end up with second-tier goods.  When something breaks, they don’t have the mechanics or the parts to get it fixed promptly. One of the rangers told us that nearly everyone on every reservation in the country lives below the poverty level.  Here, one sign of that is that there is a large number of stray dogs wandering around town—especially in the parking lots at the mall and here, at the hotel.  Here there are at least five.  These dogs do not appear to be feral; they want attention and will follow you around.  I’m sure they’re looking for handouts.  It’s really sad.  I was trying to imagine how desperate I would be before I would just turn my dog loose because I couldn’t afford to feed it.  Terrible.

Tomorrow we will drive down to Navajo National Monument, then back here, whence we will head to our last NPS site, then on to Albuquerque to catch the train home (which has, so far, not been canceled!)