El Morro National Monument: Part 2… The Ancestral Puebloans Who Lived on Top

In our last post we emphasized the beauty of El Morro and checked out the waterhole that has drawn people to El Morro for the past thousand years. Our focus was on the Spaniards and the pioneers who left their signatures behind. Today we are going to spotlight the Ancestral Puebloans who lived on top of the monument in the 1200s and left petroglyphs on the cliff near the waterhole.

Peggy and I were admiring the petroglyphs and signatures on the walls of El Morro when a woman walked by and gushed, “Aren’t the signatures wonderful.” And then, dismissively, “You can find petroglyphs anywhere.” We didn’t disagree on the signatures. The first one had been carved into the rock by the Spaniard Don Juan de Oñate, 15 years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. But the petroglyphs reflect the life of a people who were living here hundreds of years before Oñate was born.

While our understanding of the petroglyphs is limited, we can appreciate the creativity and at least guess at their meanings. The four big horned sheep walking in a row on the Inscription Loop Trail are still four big horned sheep walking in a row, regardless of what else the petroglyph might mean. With insights from the beliefs, legends, and interpretations of modern pueblo people and other indigenous groups, our guessing can improve, opening a whole new world of wonder for us. They certainly have for Peggy and me.

The pueblo, signatures, and petroglyphs are part of the rich history that our public lands preserve and protect. It’s an important aspect of what our national parks and monuments do. Without this protection in El Morro, graffiti would likely cover the inscriptions and petroglyphs on the Inscription Loop Trail, while much of the Atsinna Pueblo would be dug up with zero concern for history— left in shambles as treasure hunters search for ancient artifacts to sell. Before the creation of our park system, such pillage was common. It still can be in unprotected areas.

Today we are facing an even more insidious threat: erasing our history. Apparently, the Trump Administration has decided that including what we have done wrong in history detracts from America’s greatness rather than serving to remind us that we can do better. For example, my Great Grandfather in Illinois utilized his house as a part of the Underground Railroad. It was dangerous. He was helping free slaves. In early April, a page on a national park website described the effort this way: “The Underground Railroad — the resistance to enslavement through escape and flight through the end of the Civil War — refers to the efforts of enslaved African Americans to gain their freedom by escaping bondage,” the page began. The statement was removed as well as a photo of Harriet Tubman, who was central to the effort. The Underground Railroad became part of the Civil Rights movement. There was to be no mention of slavery. After a sustained outcry and substantial media attention, slavery and Harriet Tubman were returned to being part of our history.

It continues. Two weeks ago, Interior Secretary Doug Burgum issued Secretarial Order 3431 that instructs all land management agencies, including the National Park Service, to post signs asking visitors to report any negative stories about past or living Americans by rangers or in signage— even if it is historically accurate.

Rewriting history to match the President’s concept of it and asking Americans to spy on Americans is a whole new type of scary.

And now, it’s time to return to our post on El Morro National Monument, which is part of our series emphasizing the beauty and value of our national parks, monuments, historical sites and other public lands.

We found these holes in the rock near the waterhole. We’ve seen similar holes at a number of other pueblos. They are foot and hand holds that the Ancestral Puebloans used to reach their cliff dwellings, and, in this instance, Atsinna, the pueblo up on top of El Morro.
The water hole is off to the right. The foot holes are behind the pinyon trees center left. It’s thought that the Ancestral Puebloans worked their way up the draw to the head of the canyon where they would have used a ladder or rope to climb up to the top. Note the door like structure on the left. Peggy was fascinated with it. The rangers told us it was caused by how the minerals in the sandstone split. The major splits, like those to the right and left of the ‘door,’ cut through the whole bluff and help determine where major erosion takes place.
A close up of the canyon gives a better perspective on the nature of the climb. Imagine carrying water up! Not easy. My imagination (plus experience from 50 years of backpacking) would have them work across the canyon to the dark split, follow it up, work around the boulder and then use a ladder or rope on the last section. I was amused to learn that one type of ladder that Ancestral Puebloans reportedly used was cutting foot notches in a slender log…
Like this one I used as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Africa (1966). Grin.
El Morro National Monument protects the petroglyphs found in the park. Some of these would have been carved by the residents of the Atsinna, while others would have been left by Ancestral Puebloans living in different locations in El Morro Valley. Add to this, petroglyphs left behind by indigenous peoples living in the area before the Ancestral Puebloans, and it’s likely that the petroglyphs represent several cultures. We found 25 on this panel alone including several hands, a likely bear print, lizards, a snake, a deer and possible sandal prints. Some of the petroglyphs may represent various clan symbols. I would guess the holes were made by people using the petroglyphs for target practice.
There are times when Peggy and I just have to smile at a petroglyph whether the original artist meant us to or not. This long legged coyote or dog is a case in point. Road Runner, of cartoon fame, might have been in serious trouble had Coyote had legs like this.
While this may not be the case here, this petroglyph is often used to represent a woman having a baby. It isn’t surprising that such an important event is commonly found among petroglyphs.
We rarely find petroglyphs in the Southwest that don’t include lizards (and snakes). No surprise.
This particular series of petroglyphs contained three important symbols of Ancestral Puebloan culture. The large round petroglyph with its two lines represents the Sun Father, one of the most important deities of Zuni Culture. The squiggly line is the water serpent that helped Ancestral Puebloans find water, a critical contribution to their survival in Southwest deserts. The swastika-like symbol on the right was used in Europe, Asia and America long before it was adopted by Hitler. In the Southwest, it was used by both the Navajos and the Ancestral Puebloans with a positive message. The Zuni saw it as a whirling log that represented the six cardinal directions: North, South, East, West, Up and Down— and the guardians associated with each direction.

I joked with the park rangers when we came back to see Atsinna about using the Ancestral Puebloan route up. He laughed, “I’d recommend the stairs. There are 130 of them.” “Piece of cake,” had been my response. “Actually,” he amended, “there are 132.” “Oh no!” I whined.

Some of the steps leading up to Atsinna. I suspect that the Ancestral Puebloans would have loved them.
We stopped frequently on our way up to Atsinna to admire the view over El Morro Valley.
And admire the wildlife. Not our best lizard picture, but she’s special. The desert whiptail lizard reproduces by parthenogenesis, which is a rather long word that means she doesn’t need a male in her life to make babies. (Although she can do it the old fashioned way.)
Eventually, we reached our goal. The climb up had been easy, given our stops to admire the scenery. The name Atsinna, which means ‘place of writing on the rock,’ was given to the pueblo by the Zuni whose home pueblo is a short 34 miles away.

One of the real treats on our visit to El Morro was to meet two Monument Rangers who are Zuni and live at the Zuni Pueblo: Calvin and Valentino. We first met them when we were hiking up to Atsinna and they were doing trail work, and again when we came back down, this time just outside of the Visitor Center, where we talked for a half hour or so. Before we could ask, Valentino explained to us he was named Valentino because he was born on Valentine’s Day. I’m sure he gets asked that question a lot. I had been picturing the dashing “Latin Lover” of the silent film days, Rudolph Valentino.

In addition to working at the Monument, both held important roles of educating children at the Zuni Pueblo on tribal history, culture and language. At 70, Valentino was a tribal elder. Our discussion ranged from the preservation and restoration of Atsinna Pueblo to the Zuni Belief system.
Atsina was built around 1275 CE and occupied for a hundred years or so. It covers an area of 200’ by 300’ and accommodated between 500-600 people. There were 355 interconnected rooms that surrounded an open courtyard.
This old aerial shot by the National Park Service shows the original size of the Pueblo outlined by the difference in vegetation as well as the rooms that were excavated in the 50s.
Another view of the excavation. The room in the front is one of two kivas excavated at Atsinna, this square one and a larger round one.
Kivas were central to Puebloan life for important religious rituals and ceremonies. They also played a role in maintaining social cohesion and supporting cultural traditions. Most were laid out in a similar fashion. Pueblo people today continue to build kivas and use them much in the same way.
Preservation and restoration has become an important part of maintaining Atsinna and other Pueblos. Valentino and Calvin told us that the excavation of the 1950s had used concrete to reinforce the upper walls. The added weight had caused the walls to collapse. Walls are held together today using materials that mimic the original in texture and hardness.
A view of the top as seen from the pueblo. I found the contrasting colors of the red and white sandstone both interesting and photogenic. Atsinna rests on the red Dakota sandstone deposited in a Mid-Cretaceous Sea. In turn, the Dakota sandstone rests on bleached Zuni sandstone that was laid down around 150 million years ago when a vast Saharan type desert of sand covered the area. What’s known as an unconformity of 80 million years exists between the Zuni and Dakota sandstone, i.e. 80 million years of geological history was eroded between the two! That’s enough for today! More than enough?

Next up I am going to explore three wilderness areas in California as part of my series: The Mokelumne, Granite Chief/Desolation, and Marble Mountains Wilderness areas. While these wilderness areas are not presently threatened by Trump Administration policies, there is no guarantee that they won’t be.

First up, the Mokelumne Wilderness.