House on Fire: Bears Ears XXXI

2024-06-04

We had been up with the sun, yet here we are still getting a later start. This time however, the timing is best later in the morning. We’re heading for The House on Fire ruins.  It faces away from the morning sun, now. We’d like to arrive when the refection of the sunlight on red rock makes the roof of the ruins look like fire.

It is a short hike, just maybe 30 minutes, a quick mile or so and there is no slope each way.

We grab a fee to pay for this more popular site, but when we arrive, there is no bucket at the trailhead. There is just one car. The trail registry says two people. This is good, very good, good potential. We may have things to ourselves, instead of the shuffle of too many tourists. There had been a half a dozen cars when we passed by during the previous afternoon.

We carefully make our way down a slope and into dense foliage accented with various red soils, sand and rock. As we walk along, the evident path is comfortably shaded, off and on. We haven’t gone far, just minutes, when we bump into an older couple. They are from Germany in full hiking regalia. He reports “very nice” in a very thick accent. She is silent. By her demeanor, I suspect that she is not confident in our foreign language. Helpful and beaming, nearly giddy, as if he had just visited something of memorable awe, he states, “20 minutes, follow the wash.” They disappear down the trail toward the trailhead. One car, two people heading back to it, so I know that nobody is ahead. My kilt is quickly off and it feels so wonderful. The air is beautiful and I’m feeling lucky. I didn’t expect this.

Curiously, when we arrive at the ruins, there is no clear trail for such a popular remarkable spot. We must climb through a tangle of bush and roots on a sharp slope and then up a bare rock slope. There they are, still in the shade, several stone masonry structures, connecting the lips of a rock floor and ceiling. We drop daypack and water bottles. We plan to hang out for a while, waiting for photo opportunity.

The ceiling is everything that the pictures have purported. There is a chipped strata of red and yellow tones that rise up, suggesting fire. It is massive and beautiful. DF playfully sings a phrase from a song. It sticks in my head, inspired by this sense of flame, “We don’t need no water let the MF burn, burn MF, burn.” The crude tune from the 1990’s has lost its anger. It is joyous excitement.

We head back into a cavern-like area next to this to explore.  

Perhaps there is more.

We have heard of petroglyphs in the area. Back out into the open air and along a slope, nothing dramatic is found.

I start to return to the main event, but there are voices heard around the corner. 

Two couples have arrived. We haven’t done any nude photos with the ruins yet and here we are covering up, being cautious, waiting to get a feel for our new situation.  One is unpacking a backpack that is all camera and tripod.

They’re obviously not leaving soon. This is will be the best time of day. The granary’s photos must be taken in shadow and from shadow, as the sun creeps into a maximum position of more light, reflection, but not too much.  What, no nudes with the fire?!? ! I ask DF if she would be the model and we break the ice with the serious photographer. He might take to the opportunity, but she’s not gonna. “No way” is her firm reply.

His fine camera is going to do a 360 degree panorama shot and we are politely asked to get out of the way. We head back into the cave.

We take a couple of fun shots, but too soon, DF has to scramble behind a rock to grab her dress.

I’m left holding her camera, water, etc. as one of the women comes. She has followed us through the opening to show us the pictographs that we might have missed. She points out handprints above us.

They are in an odd position. In order to make the painted prints, someone had to climb into an odd spot and hang, or perhaps they had a ladder to stretch over. They are very obvious once we see them. I may have already taken images of them and not even known it, when focusing on details of my subject.

She leaves; we take more photos with one ear open for them, dress and return back to the visitors. When they go to do the pictographs, we sneak a couple of nude shots with the ruins, quickly.

Feeling enough of the interruptions of our rightful body freedoms, we leave to hike up the canyon.

To be Continued….

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