Sometimes you come across a site that is almost stupefying in its sheer abundance – petroglyphs on every rock, for a quarter mile or more. These sites are thrilling to find, but they are difficult to document. I have a few like that sitting on the back burner, where every time I open the photo folder I think “I can’t really not show any of these 200 photos I picked from the 500 I took, they’re all good photos showing interesting elements … but who would want to sit through a blog post the length of a football field?”
Other times, you find a site so small that you can capture all there is to see with a single photo. I’ve definitely visited those, too!
And there’s also a third kind of site: lonely, rudimentary, unimpressive … a few scratches on a rock and maybe some small signs of habitation, a forlorn permanent record of a fleeting stay.
In a way, these sites are the most evocative to visit. Who lived here, how long ago, and why does it appear as if they were alone, or only part of very small group that left hardly any footprint at all? How did they scratch a living from this desolate land?
A while back we visited such a site. It is in an odd part of the Park, nowhere near the other sites in the Park, and nowhere near recorded habitation areas.
And that’s it … one lonely, basic little site, sitting all by itself. We looked around but found no other trace of habitation. And once we packed up the boulder was again left alone in the desert.