Day 31 – Sky City

Miles traveled: 130
Hours on Road: 2
States covered: 1 – New Mexico

I’m paying today for the stressful driving of yesterday. I can barely move my head.

We had our free breakfast then left for the Sky City -- the Acoma Pueblos. All the pamphlets and road signs on the highway make it seem so simple to get there: just take exit 102. Only, once off the exit, there’s no more direction, not even on the pamphlets! There’s this incredible roundabout that leads to another roundabout and then a kind of scootabout (it wasn’t fully round); but at no point on any of the loops did it say where to go. There was a little sign that said “Acomita,” but that doesn’t necessarily mean Acoma. If you mean Acoma, say Acoma. After going a couple miles the wrong way, we turned around and headed for Acomita, and finally we saw additional signs that pointed toward the Sky City.

There was a sign as we neared the site that was worn to the point of being mostly unreadable, but what we could read said: “No photographs.” Great. That’s what we came for. We snuck a last second photo of the buildings on the hill as we pulled into the Visitor’s Center. What a good role model I am for my kids: “Hurry up and get the photo, Cal, before someone sees you!”

Turns out, you can use a camera. You have to wear a tag on it that indicates you’ve been given permission to carry it with you. You just can’t take photos of the cemetery or inside the church and the museum. You also need to ask permission before photographing the people who live there. That was the most amazing thing – people still live there.

To get to the pueblos, you have to buy a ticket for the bus. Once at the top, you have to follow the tour guide. Ours was a woman named Geri. She was quite funny, in a very dry way. I asked if she lived there, and she said she has a family house there, but she also lives in a nearby town. That’s what most people do since there is no electricity or running water in the “city.” She told us that it is a matriarchal society, so the women own everything. Men are the ruling body (or are made to believe so, as she put it), but that seems to even things out: women own the stuff, men make the rules. In fact, my own family followed the matriarchal tradition that the youngest girl inherits the house, but also has the responsibility of caring for the parents and grandparents for the remainders of their lives.
All along the tour there were residents selling their wares: jewelry, food, water, and mostly pottery. Some of the pottery was amateurish, but some was unbelievable. You could tell right away who had the talent and who was just carrying on tradition as though that was good enough. I couldn’t afford any of the really nice stuff, so I didn’t buy anything (except a small blueberry pie) up top.

There are actually 5,000 residents of the pueblos, but only about 34 live there year round. The creature comforts of the lower land are just too appealing.

The tourists all had three options for getting back down to the Visitors Center: take the bus, walk along the road, or take the original pathway used by the initial inhabitants. We chose the original pathway, of course. I figured it would be a little steep, but because we’d been told they carried water up the trail, I thought it would, at least, be manageable. Ha! I couldn’t believe just how steep it was. Rock steps were carved into the side of the cliff, and the only hand holds were those that had been dug into the sides through a thousand years of use by people who were obviously as concerned about falling as I was. But once we’d started, there was no turning back (there were people behind us).

My neck was hurting so bad on the way back to the hotel, I told the boys I was going to stop and get some tonic, which is good for tight muscles. Of course, I’d have to get a little gin or vodka to go with it. Parker programmed Lee to find us a liquor store, which he did, but it was closed. It was Sunday, so I figured New Mexico must be as backwards as Connecticut. We needed more water, so I stopped in a 7-11. As luck would have it, liquor IS sold on Sundays in New Mexico, and this 7-11 just happened to a vendor of said merchandise. I looked around for tonic and couldn’t find any, so I asked the girl behind the counter if they carry it. She said she’d never heard of it. I asked her, then what do you put your vodka in? She just laughed. I was serious! I bought some iced-tea, since I like the vodka-infused iced-tea so much, and hoped that the boys wouldn’t notice that I didn’t actually have any tonic – my original excuse for buying the vodka.

We hung out watching TV for a while, then I took Cal and Trey to the pool. They didn’t allow diving or jumping, so it wasn’t all that much fun for them. They swam for about an hour.

That’s all we did all day. We mainly stayed in our room and watched TV and played on the computer. My head and neck were killing me, so it was a nice break.


I’ve had it pointed out to me that, when we leave an area, bad things happen. The day we left the Tetons, a group of climbers were struck by lightning. Five or six of them were hospitalized and one was killed when he fell over the side. In Yellowstone, three people were attacked by bears as they slept in their tents; one was killed. At the Grand Canyon, a tourist fell 75 feet and broke a leg and a wrist. Then, on our ride into Albuquerque, a truck passed me and immediately proceeded to billow black smoke, forcing him to pull-off to the side of the road. I guess people ought to be afraid to see us leave.

For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1940882027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/