Crossroads of Tuba City

During the winter of 1776, the fatigued and famished Dominguez-Escalante Expedition passed nearby the present site of Tuba City, Arizona. Of course, the Navajo hadn't settled there yet. This was Hopi territory. 

On November 14, they recorded the following: “[We] arrived at a small farm and camp of the Cosinas [Hopi], all of it pretty and well arranged—the farmland is irrigated by means of the four springs mentioned and by two other copious ones which rise next to it; here this year the Cosinas planted maize, squash, watermelon, and muskmelon. By the time we arrived they had gathered their harvest and, judging from the refuse or scraps of everything we found, it had been an abundant one, and especially that of beans. For if we had made camp here, we could have gleaned half a bushel of it. The farmland is surrounded by peach trees. Besides the several huts made of boughs, there was a very well constructed little house of stone and mud. In it were the baskets, jars, and other utensils of these Indians.” 

At the time the Hopi used this area during the summer to grow crops, using water from several nearby springs. After the harvest they returned to their villages on the mesa, which included the village of Oraibi. 

This is one of the earliest surviving accounts of Hopi civilization by European explorers. No doubt that these Native peoples came in contact with the Spanish prior to this, including Coronado in 1540 and Spanish missionaries in 1629. But other records are difficult to come by. 

Tuba City, Arizona.

The first time I came to Tuba City I had no idea of the rich history that existed here. I came as part of a Junior High wrestling team. We spent the night at Tuba City Boarding School, sleeping in dorms and eating breakfast in the cafeteria. Most of the teams at the tournament were from the surrounding reservations, schools like Shonto, Chinle, and Rocky Ridge. We were the only white guys. We wrestled all day long and didn't leave the school until after dark. 

Thirty years later I decided to revisit the area with two of my kids. I learned that there was much more to Tuba City than I had known. 

Highway 160 is the dividing line that separates the Navajo Reservation on the north from an enclave of the Hopi Reservation on the south. On the Hopi side we drove through Moenkopi, a continuation of the same settlement visited by Father Escalante over two hundred years ago. I was blown away by the adobe houses, dirt roads, roaming dogs, and terraced fields that made me feel as if I had traveled back in time. 

On the other side of the highway was the Tuba City side. Of course, we had to drive by the boarding school. But what caught my attention were all the abandoned houses that seemed out of place with your typical reservation project homes. They almost looked like pioneer homes. Considering that Tuba City was settled by Mormon pioneers, I wondered if these abandoned homes were built by them. 

That last visit piqued my curiosity even more. 

Sign at the Tuba City Boarding School.

The first contact between Hopis and members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or Mormons, came in 1858 when Apostle Jacob Hamblin led a group of missionaries to the village of Oraibi, with the purpose to learn their language and culture. During that visit an unidentified Hopi told of a prophecy that prophets would come to the Hopis from the west and bring them back to the blessings they had lost. They believed the Mormons were the fulfillment of that prophecy. 

During the winter of 1859, two Mormon missionaries stayed to live with the Hopis. One of them was Thales Haskell, a rugged young man who had a gift of learning languages. He also kept a diary during his visit. 

On December 16 he provides the first account of Teuve, the Hopi man after whom Tuba City would be named. “Tewbi,” as he called him, heroically chased down a Navajo who had stolen a piece of cloth from a squaw. He quickly mounted a horse and “soon overtook the thief, and twisted the cloth from his hands.” Haskell describes Tewbi as “a tall and noble looking Oriba.” 

Nearly three months later Haskell again mentions his Hopi compadre: “My friend Tuby traded a robe and Buckskin for a pony with one of them and made me a present of it. I prevailed on him to accept my gun, rather against his will however. He said when he made his friend a present he did not wish anything in return.” 

Three days later on March 5, 1860, he records an important entry: “Traveled 18 miles and arrived at the Movincapy. This is a small stream where the Oribes raise cotton and they recommended it to us as a good place to build a mill and for the Mormons to make a small settlement.” 

Thales Haskell.

Moenkopi is located about 35 miles northwest of Oraibi Village. It is roughly the same location where Father Escalante had passed by 84 years earlier. This “gift,” which would be the seedling of a future Mormon settlement, would also create additional conflict between the two peoples. Apparently not all the Hopis were in agreement that the Mormons should settle there. Also, there is almost always conflict when sharing a limited supply of water. 

Settlement did not happen immediately. It wasn't until over a decade later that a few Mormon settlers began trickling in. Once again, Teuve invited the Mormons to live next to them at Moenkopi. According to local tradition, this was to help protect against raids from the Navajo and Paiute. 

The first colonizers arrived in 1873. While some chose to leave because of the arid conditions, a few hearty souls stayed and began planting orchards and building stone homes. Some lived near Moenkopi while others chose to plant their farms at Moenave, about six miles to the west. 

Typical home in Tuba City, Arizona.

In 1875 the Mormons began to settle at Musher Springs, just west of Moenkopi. It served as a way station for those traveling from Salt Lake to Arizona. In 1878, Apostle Erastus Snow announced that Musher Springs would become an official Mormon Colony. A town was laid out and named “Tuba City” after their friend, Teuve. 

Several families came to live and build their home in this harsh area. One of those families was that of Alfred B. Randall and his wife, Susan Temperance Allen. According to records they had two adobe homes, both covered with pine and earth for a roof. They had a ditch dug for irrigation, grew six acres of alfalfa, and had 112 apple trees, 16 plum trees, 1 pear tree, 2 cherry trees, 1 apricot tree, and 16 peach trees. 

Alfred and Temperance were married in 1891 and spent twelve years in Tuba City, where they gave birth to three girls and two boys. All three girls died and were buried at Tuba City. 

Alfred and Temperance Randall.

During this time there was also considerable Navajo expansion. Conflict between Navajos and Mormons erupted from time to time, which included the killing of Lot Smith, who was gunned down by the Navajo Headman, Atsidí in 1892. 

In 1902 the U.S. Government decided to expand the Navajo Reservation to include the town of Tuba City. By 1903, the government bought out the Mormon settlers and Tuba City was abandoned. 

Navajo Mother and Child at Tuba City Trading Post, 1928. (Marjorie Stiles Collection)

In 2019 I returned to Tuba City again, this time knowing a little more of the history. One fascinating place I wanted to visit was the old Mormon cemetery at Moenkopi. I wasn't sure if I would be able to find it, or if I would even be allowed to go there. In addition, I didn't know if I was allowed to take photos since technically you're not supposed to take any pictures on the Hopi Reservation. 

Like I stated earlier, Moenkopi is located on the south side of highway 160 and is an enclave of the Hopi Reservation. For twenty minutes we drove around the upper village, past the earth-colored brick houses, looking for a small fenced area. We had no luck. Determined to find it I knocked on someone's door. No answer. I asked a guy on the street and he directed me to a nearby trailer. The first trailer I tried had no answer, but there were two dogs and a cat outside. The dog was friendly and let me pet him. I then found the next trailer and a nice lady was outside who showed me how to get in. The cemetery was right behind her trailer and access was through her back yard. I asked if I could take pictures and she said it would be no problem. 

The cemetery has very few original headstones. Most of the graves are unmarked and a handful have modern headstones. A tall monument made of black stone gives a short history. On the north side are a few modern burials that appear to be Natives. 

One of the headstones in the cemetery belongs to two-year old Della Randall, infant daughter of Alfred and Temperance. The young girl was buried here five years before her family was forced to leave, at which time they relocated nearly 100 miles southeast in St. Joseph, Arizona. 

Grave of Della Randall at Old Mormon Cemetery, Moenkopi.

After visiting the cemetery we drove through the lower half of Moenkopi Village. I will say that it is a fascinating place that will give you the impression you have traveled back in time a few centuries. But like the photography, I believe it is not allowed to write physical descriptions of the area, so I will not elaborate any more on our drive through the village. 

By this time we were getting hungry so we drove back to the Diné side of the highway to Tuba City and arrived at the Hogan Family Restaurant. This was a recommendation from a Navajo neighbor of mine. We already knew what we wanted to eat when we walked in: Navajo burgers! 

If you've never experienced a Navajo burger, you should try one. They are the same as a normal hamburger, except much bigger. And they use fry bread instead of buns. I will admit that when we got our order I was a little disappointed because the beef patties were a little charred. But it was still very tasty and well worth the visit. 

Navajo burger at Hogan Family Restaurant.

Next to the restaurant is the Tuba Trading Post, a historic building built in 1891. Part of the building is octagonal in shape, being built with limestone rocks from Moenkopi Wash. Outside is a traditional Navajo hogan. The trading post is on the National Register of Historic Places. 

Inside they sell all sorts of Pendleton blankets, Navajo jewelry and other hand-crafted items. Most of the items were out of my price-range, but I still admired the beauty of them. I did, however, buy a few issues of a monthly publication called “The Leading Way.” It is described as “The wisdom of the Navajo People.” I've bought several issues in the past and can only find it on the Rez. It is very informative on a variety of cultural subjects from the perspective of the Navajo people. 

Historic Trading Post at Tuba City, with hogan at left.

Inside Tuba City Trading Post.

We moved on and drove the streets of Tuba City. I was completely amazed at how many abandoned homes there were. Other than the section with the businesses, it looked like a ghost town. Many of the windows were boarded up and a couple of the homes had been burned. I've seen this a lot on the reservation and have often wondered what was the exact cause of it. I usually conclude that it has to do with the socialistic nature of the reservation, where many of these homes are owned by the tribe, without true ownership, giving no incentive to take care of the property. 

Some of the abandoned homes were very old, almost looking like pioneer houses, but I didn't quite think they were 130 years old. They were large brick structures that I felt were unlikely to have belonged to the Navajoes. I went back to the restaurant and asked for their insight and they said the homes belonged to teachers and doctors during the 1950's. 

We didn't have as much time as I had hoped for, but we drove around as much as we could and surveyed the town. I took note of an insurance company in a trailer, and also a radio station in a trailer. We also passed by the old boarding school where I wrestled and it appeared to be closed up. 

Old "pioneer-looking" homes in Tuba City.

Our final stop was the cemetery. I had never been to a Navajo cemetery. It lied on the outskirts of town on a sandy road off the pavement. There was no organization to the graves except for a few fenced family plots. Burials were spread far through the brush, with Mother Nature having her way with most of the grounds. Fences and headstones had blown down, weeds grew everywhere, and dozens of varmint holes had been dug in the sand. 

I was impressed with the high number American flags. It was the most I had ever seen in a single cemetery of that size except on Memorial Day. You could tell that family members of veterans were proud. Sadly, some flags flew in tatters while others sat on the ground. 

Most of the mounds were piled several feet high. Some were covered in a type of flag-stone. Most were decorated with trinkets belonging to the deceased. Some of the headstones were homemade, perhaps just a painting on a rock. 

Cemetery at Tuba City.

Across the road was the old cemetery. I looked at it, but didn't dare walk through. It looked like it was rarely visited. No paths and a lot of sage brush. I wondered if any of the graves were visited by family members, or if they had long since been forgotten. I know that with many of the Native tribes there is a taboo about being near the dead. I am sure that their customs and ours are very different. 

We left Tuba City much too soon that day. I still had many questions left unanswered. But I am learning. I certainly have a bigger picture of this area that Navajo, Hopi and Mormon have all called home. ♠

This is the "old" cemetery at Tuba City.

 

Sources 

Escalante, Silvestre Velez, and Ted J. Warner. “The Dominguez-Escalante Journal.” University of Utah Press, 1995. 

Haskell, Thales. “Journal of Thales H. Haskell.” Utah Historical Quarterly, Vol. 12, Nos. 1-2 (January-April, 1944) : 68-102. 

Reilly, P.T. “A Brief History of the Tuba City Area.” Northern Arizona University, Chinle Library.

Smallcanyon, Corey, "Contested Space: Mormons, Navajos, and Hopis in the Colonization of Tuba City" (2010). All Theses and Dissertations. 2557.

Snake & Slot

We began our hike down the creek just an hour after sunrise. A small stream flowed down the middle and fall colors were reaching their apex. The walls of the canyon slowly began to rise and we found ourselves in an idyllic autumn location. 

Near the confluence of another creek we found two different ancient glyphs. One of them was etched on a high rock wall behind a growth of trees. The other was a snake, painted with a blue pigment. It is the first blue petroglyph I have ever seen. 

 

The walls of the canyon became sheer and wide, giving few opportunities for exit. The little stream that once flowed along the bottom had now dried up. We hiked for two hours along a meandering route. Although we walked alone today, there was no doubt that in days past, many a cowboy rode this same corridor.

 

At noon we arrived at the confluence of the creek and the gorge. The entrance to the gorge was narrow and inconspicuous. One would never guess how long and impressive it was. 

The gorge was a beautiful canyon. It was narrower than the creek and the colors of the trees were more vibrant. The walls of the canyon now became a white slickrock. We walked along the bottom of a dry stream bed, stopping occasionally to snack. The canyon sat silent. The only noise being that of our feet crunching over sticks and leaves, and a small rustling of wind through the trees along the bed.

 

The canyon eventually narrows into a slot. Some places are so close you can touch both sides. Some sections are much darker, while in others the light reflects softly on the sandstone. Fallen logs have washed over the cliffs, getting lodged across the span of the slot. Sometimes the canyon floor steps up a level, forcing us to pull our way over the fall. At the narrowest part of the canyon, one can barely see the sky. The tall cliffs seem to curve inward at the top. 

 

It is in one of these narrow sections that include the wreckage of an old truck that rolled off the edge in the 1950's. The wreckage is best seen from the bottom. The truck is wedged in the narrow walls of the slot canyon. It creates a solemn feeling. Three men lost their lives here. 

 

We finally climbed out of the canyon at 3:45, arriving at the parking area. We had a 4-mile walk back to our vehicle, but luckily we were quickly offered a ride in the back of a truck. I sat on a small pile of split logs. The ride was dusty and bumpy, but all the more adventuresome! ♠

 

 

Bushwhacking Through a Draw

Our intended goal was to drop into R— Canyon and hike a mile and a half to a unique white-colored ruin. When we walked to the rim of the canyon we looked to the north and then to the south. Nothing but sheer drop-offs for as far as we could see. I now had no other option but to act on Plan B.

Next to us was a short, but deep side-canyon that led into R—. It is known as L— Draw. I had studied it before and knew it would be thick with vegetation. But how thick I wasn't sure. I calculated that L— Draw was our best entrance into the canyon. 

Along the west side of the draw is a corral and beyond that an old road that leads to the bottom. I don't know what purpose the road served because it ended at the bottom.  But we were glad to follow it down. 

Immediately as we came to the corral, Jenna spotted a large ruin on the other side of the draw. It was built inside a narrow alcove, being rectangular in shape with perfectly squared corners. One side was adorned with intact windows, while on the other the walls had collapsed. Already we were happy we chose this new approach. 

As we descended into the side-canyon we spotted several other ruins, including a nice grainery with a window. The sun now disappeared behind the canyon walls and the November air became brisk. 

Jenna noticed a cave that begged to be explored. To get there we walked over a fence that laid flat on the ground, stepping atop sticks and reeds that grew along the bottom. By the time we got there we had cockleburs all over our clothing. 

Inside the cave it was high enough we could stand up; but it was devoid of anything. No ruins at all. Just a fence post near the front. I wonder if at one time it served as a holding pin for cattle? It's the type of cave that would have been fun to camp in as a kid. Judging from the sudden growth of vegetation just outside the cave, I'm sure there is water springing from the ground during wetter years. 

Now we began making our way to the mouth of this little-known side canyon. If we were to have no obstacles, our journey would be no more than a third of a mile. But to have no obstacles would be a luxury we would not enjoy on this day. 

There was no path, no wild game trail, no easy way to go down-canyon. Nothing but a wall of willows and thorns. I took off my jacket so it wouldn't snag. This was the kind of jungle where you needed a machete. 

We began to push through. Sometimes it was a matter of forcing yourself through the tangle of brambles. But at times the tangle was so thick and so woven together that passage was impossible. 

Sometimes it was a forest of thickets with hundreds of needle-like spines all up and down the slender branches. The tiny stickers pierced into our clothing and dug into our flesh, leaving several smears of blood on my hands. 

Sometimes I would step onto the supple vegetation, bending it to a horizontal position, then walk on top of it, a foot above the ground. Occasionally we found a short path free from obstruction, but without fail, it quickly became choked off. 

Jordan scrambled to the canyon wall where he discovered a somewhat unobstructed path. We followed suit and found it much easier than our previous route. Now all we had to do was duck under branches, crawl under a couple boulders, and push through occasional, but less frequent webs of branches. At last we were making progress! 

Jordan noted that a clearer path led to the bottom of the draw, but then I spotted an alcove above us that I wanted to explore. We climbed up the slope and over a boulder. Behind a huge cluster of thickets, completely obstructed from view, stood several well-protected Anasazi ruins. 

I admired the stone masons that built these structures over 800 years ago. The walls curved to fit the contour of the ledge with a wood-framed window. 

Past the graneries, in a low, but deep alcove was another chamber. Here sat another structure, not as well preserved as the first, but still mostly intact. The little cave felt dark and damp. The growth of thickets blocked the few rays of sunlight that had a chance of shining in. The entire ceiling of the alcove was black, possibly from ancient fires.  On the other side of the alcove sat the fallen bricks of a structure that had collapsed. 

We were quickly running out of our allotted time. We exited the alcove, back into the sunlight and trampled through the snarl of branches to the bottom of the draw. Knowing that we still had an arduous journey ahead, I quickly contrived a Plan C. 

I noticed the opposite side of the draw was now showing less vegetation, and was also less steep. I decided it was time for us to climb up the other side of the draw and exit the canyon. 

Unfortunately for us, we had time restrictions this day. My goal of hiking to the white-colored ruins would have to come at another time. 

We hiked over the hill where we finally arrived at the rim of R— Canyon. It was wide and long, with a few ruins dotting the opposite cliff . . . if you were keen enough to spot them. 

Jordan and Jenna took turns throwing rocks into the canyon, aiming for a pond at the bottom. I spend my time glassing the canyon for more ruins and picking out stickers from my clothing. ♠