Chasing Petroglyphs
Apr. 4th, 2004 09:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
canyonwrenHiking Log: Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park
Yes, we have a petrified forest in Washington State.
One of my hobbies in Arizona and at grad school in Colorado was to "chase" petroglyphs. I adore petroglyphs, and will drive hundreds of miles to see some new to me. I was wracked with yearning during grad school because the J-school shared a floor with the archaeology department. And while I loved what I was doing, I so much wanted to be doing what they were doing, too.
At one point, I decided to write an article on interpretation of petroglyphs and interviewed one of the professors. And it became evident that I was in the right place, after all. My chosen profession, science writing, would let me explore anything I wanted, be it moon rocks, the weirdness of the human brain, human-computer interaction, or petroglyphs.
And explore them I did. I drove down to Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico to interview one of the archaeologists and drool over the incredible images. I fell in love at Newspaper Rock (Arizona), and carefully copied the beautiful mountain lioness onto a rock of my own, chisling through the desert patina to let the animal out. I did the long drive down the Three Rivers, New Mexico, and climbed a hill that stood out like a nipple on the flat plain. There was something about that hill that made me feel very close to the spirit indeed, in part because the only things higher were the distant Sangrias. I felt exposed, naked, uplifted and euphoric.
Whoever came there before me was inspired by something, and the hilltop was covered with the most vivid and beautiful images I'd ever seen. Round faces, elongated bodies, stick-like sheep, zigzags like lightning or snakes, chevrons... One thing I learned in researching my article is that you cannot ever interpret the petroglyphs and know you are right. Even the understanding of the current tribes concerning an image still must take into consideration that the original artist was working out of his connection to nature, the divine, art, or something entirely different.
When I moved back to Washington, I intended to start chasing petroglyphs immediately. But I got sidetracked by other things, and only set out to see the whales and faces carved into the rocks at Ozette. These ones were different than the southwestern rock art--on the coast, we don't have the desert patina coating the rocks, so the images must be deeply chisled into the stone to remain for any time at all.
However, we have a desert. It's called Eastern Washington.
I drove over Steven's Pass on HWY 2 (waved in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sharkins' direction), hung a right at Leavenworth, crossed Blewitt Pass (watching the heat guage on my poor car), hung a left at Ellensburg, and drove up to the Columbia River directly west of Vantage. Here, we have the arid conditions that classic petroglyphs can survive in.
I found them quite easily, and examined them while explaining to the ranger the difference between petroglyph and pictograph, as it was the first day on the job and he was already being driven frantic by the question. (They really need to stock some books on the subject at the ranger station.) I was pleased to see the images--they had a lot of similarities to the New Mexican sites, but I was also saddened that they weren't in their original locations. They were moved when the dam was put in, or else would have been lost.
It was fun to see renditions of animals that looked more like our mountain goats instead of the southwest's big-horned sheep. And there were figures that looked almost like reindeer, which may have been elk. The human-like figures seemed almost divine, the way the shining lines rayed out from their heads.
Afterward, I drove out to the Petrified Forest to hike around. I wasn't too happy to see how they ensured the safety of the wood--each piece was caged off with thick black mesh. On the bright side, each tree was identified. What I would not give to have seen the forest that once covered the scrubland that is now Eastern Washington. Gingko, Chinese walnut, elm, douglas fir, redwood, sweetgum, maple, spruce, and horsechestnut. Other broadleafs were oak, sycamore, beech and hickory, growing low on the foothills at the shore of a long-vanished lake.That was a forest. Ginkgo has long since been extinct except for Asia (reintroduced here as an ornamental). Elm also grew here during the Miocene, but is not considered native today.
As I left the route, I stopped to admire the walnut stone again, and saw this: the cutest ickle baby rattlesnake. :)
Cuuuute!
A wonderful trip, all in all. (Headed home via Snoqualmie Pass, leaving the desert and descending into the beautiful lush greenery that is Western Washington.)
Yes, we have a petrified forest in Washington State.
One of my hobbies in Arizona and at grad school in Colorado was to "chase" petroglyphs. I adore petroglyphs, and will drive hundreds of miles to see some new to me. I was wracked with yearning during grad school because the J-school shared a floor with the archaeology department. And while I loved what I was doing, I so much wanted to be doing what they were doing, too.
At one point, I decided to write an article on interpretation of petroglyphs and interviewed one of the professors. And it became evident that I was in the right place, after all. My chosen profession, science writing, would let me explore anything I wanted, be it moon rocks, the weirdness of the human brain, human-computer interaction, or petroglyphs.
And explore them I did. I drove down to Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico to interview one of the archaeologists and drool over the incredible images. I fell in love at Newspaper Rock (Arizona), and carefully copied the beautiful mountain lioness onto a rock of my own, chisling through the desert patina to let the animal out. I did the long drive down the Three Rivers, New Mexico, and climbed a hill that stood out like a nipple on the flat plain. There was something about that hill that made me feel very close to the spirit indeed, in part because the only things higher were the distant Sangrias. I felt exposed, naked, uplifted and euphoric.
Whoever came there before me was inspired by something, and the hilltop was covered with the most vivid and beautiful images I'd ever seen. Round faces, elongated bodies, stick-like sheep, zigzags like lightning or snakes, chevrons... One thing I learned in researching my article is that you cannot ever interpret the petroglyphs and know you are right. Even the understanding of the current tribes concerning an image still must take into consideration that the original artist was working out of his connection to nature, the divine, art, or something entirely different.
When I moved back to Washington, I intended to start chasing petroglyphs immediately. But I got sidetracked by other things, and only set out to see the whales and faces carved into the rocks at Ozette. These ones were different than the southwestern rock art--on the coast, we don't have the desert patina coating the rocks, so the images must be deeply chisled into the stone to remain for any time at all.
However, we have a desert. It's called Eastern Washington.
I drove over Steven's Pass on HWY 2 (waved in
sharkins' direction), hung a right at Leavenworth, crossed Blewitt Pass (watching the heat guage on my poor car), hung a left at Ellensburg, and drove up to the Columbia River directly west of Vantage. Here, we have the arid conditions that classic petroglyphs can survive in.I found them quite easily, and examined them while explaining to the ranger the difference between petroglyph and pictograph, as it was the first day on the job and he was already being driven frantic by the question. (They really need to stock some books on the subject at the ranger station.) I was pleased to see the images--they had a lot of similarities to the New Mexican sites, but I was also saddened that they weren't in their original locations. They were moved when the dam was put in, or else would have been lost.
It was fun to see renditions of animals that looked more like our mountain goats instead of the southwest's big-horned sheep. And there were figures that looked almost like reindeer, which may have been elk. The human-like figures seemed almost divine, the way the shining lines rayed out from their heads.
Afterward, I drove out to the Petrified Forest to hike around. I wasn't too happy to see how they ensured the safety of the wood--each piece was caged off with thick black mesh. On the bright side, each tree was identified. What I would not give to have seen the forest that once covered the scrubland that is now Eastern Washington. Gingko, Chinese walnut, elm, douglas fir, redwood, sweetgum, maple, spruce, and horsechestnut. Other broadleafs were oak, sycamore, beech and hickory, growing low on the foothills at the shore of a long-vanished lake.That was a forest. Ginkgo has long since been extinct except for Asia (reintroduced here as an ornamental). Elm also grew here during the Miocene, but is not considered native today.
As I left the route, I stopped to admire the walnut stone again, and saw this: the cutest ickle baby rattlesnake. :)
Cuuuute!
A wonderful trip, all in all. (Headed home via Snoqualmie Pass, leaving the desert and descending into the beautiful lush greenery that is Western Washington.)
