Step in mud, wait 100 million years, voila!
2023 turned out to be a year of dinosaur tracks. First, during a visit to Connecticut, Rita and I randomly discovered Powder Hill Dinosaur Park. Here, they claimed the presence of dinosaur tracks. I was skeptical, but once I laid my eyes on them, I opened up to the possibilities. They were large, three toed tracks in a slab of rock. The idea is that a dinosaur trampled some mud, which slowly hardened, preserving the print.
Believe it or not I lived over thirty years on this planet before knowing about dinosaur tracks. Yes, I’d been to museums and seen the bones and replicas. I watched all the documentaries and knew about their reign on this planet. Never did I consider that a track could survive that long. I still haven’t fully absorbed the concept, but it’s a cool thing to believe in.
Then, only a week later, we visited Carl and Poppy at their home in Tuba City, AZ. Tuba City is on the Navajo Reservation. We learned of the Moenave Dinosaur Tracks, six miles outside of town. However, Carl believed that there was an admission fee, so we put that visit on the backburner.
Monument Valley
The Navajo Reservation is out of this world. With a red, rocky, and barren landscape, it might as well be on Mars. Surprisingly, sheep herders do quite well out there. Grilled mutton is a local favorite, and I got the opportunity to try some at the Navajo Market. In addition to being remote and sparsely populated, the reservation is gigantic. It is over 27,000 square miles and stretches across four states.
The pinnacle of the Reservation is Monument Valley. This location is along the Utah border, and famous from postcards, movies, and Microsoft backgrounds. Forrest Gump stopped running there.
Huge sandstone buttes rise above the rocky floor. Each one has a unique name, such as East Mitten, West Mitten, and Totem Pole. We hiked around West Mitten, and captured a picture that looks like the Moon is falling into the Mitten, as a pop fly might fall into a baseball mitt.
Back in Tuba City, I did another hike with Carl up Tuba City Hill. We may have been joined on the hill by a murder suspect, but that’s a tale for another time. The top of the hill is a nice little rambling zone, with 360-degree views of the surrounding desert scape. We wandered around, looking out on Navajo Mountain in the distance, a reservoir, and even one of those bashful sheep.
One of our day trips while staying in Tuba City was to Page. We walked with a guided tour through Antelope Canyon, a slot canyon revered by photographers. Later in the day, we visited Glen Canyon Dam. Lo and behold, outside the visitor center we saw a slab of rock on display. At least six dinosaur tracks graced its surface.
And here, a dinosaur turd
On our last day we decided to stop at the Moenave Dinosaur Tracks on our way out of town. We pulled into the parking lot, as the lone car, and walked up to a solitary woman guarding a table of jewelry. To our pleasant surprise, there was no admission fee. She agreed to give us a tour of the grounds and just recommended a small donation.
Like much of the reservation, this spot was rocky and barren. We could gaze far off into the distance at the red landscape, and also peer up into the deep blue sky. Our guide took us to all the big tracks. Similar to Connecticut, they were three-toed, but there were more of them. Also, in this landscape they were better preserved.
The guide told us an enthralling tale as to the origins. Back in the day (you know, millions of years ago), there was a volcanic eruption that deposited sediments in the mud fields, preserving the tracks. She also showed us some smooth rocks and claimed they were dinosaur eggs. Others, she said were turds. One of the supposed dinosaur eggs was missing, presumably stolen. I’d imagine the guides use a bit of imagination with the tourists. Then again, much we claim to know about dinosaurs is probably just imagination.
Here’s another funny story about the Navajo and dinosaurs. At the market, we met a guy selling pottery. He said that before European colonization, the Navajo didn’t eat eggs, and were better off for it. His reason was that chickens are descended from dinosaurs.
Another family pulled up and the guide left us to our own devices. We then got to wander around a truly epic rambling zone. In terms of open space, it’s hard to beat. No tree or structure blocks the views, only very distant rocks and buttes. There aren’t any boundaries either, although I’m sure if you walked too far the guide would come grab you. The best part though, is that you are walking where the dinosaurs walked (and pooped).
