Wupatki National Monument

Listen first. Out here, the wind is the loudest thing for kilometres. It moves through dry grass and over red rock, and somewhere a raven calls. Under your shoes, the ground crunches with small black stones, volcanic cinders that fell from the sky long ago. Ahead of you, walls of red sandstone rise from a low ridge. They look almost grown from the rock itself. This is Wupatki, and people lived here, cooked here, and argued here more than eight hundred years ago.

Wupatki National Monument sits in northern Arizona, north of Flagstaff, in a high, open country of grassland and desert. To the west, on a clear day, the San Francisco Peaks rise with their dark slopes. To the east, the land falls away toward the Little Colorado River and the soft colours of the Painted Desert. The name Wupatki comes from the Hopi language. It is usually translated as tall house. Stand here for a minute, and that name starts to make sense.

The main pueblo in front of you is the largest of several stone villages in the monument. A pueblo is a village of connected stone rooms, built and lived in by the ancestors of today's Pueblo peoples. At its height, this building held around one hundred rooms. Some parts rose several stories. The builders set the walls directly onto natural outcrops of rock. Look closely at the base, and you can see where human masonry ends and the bedrock begins. The line is not always easy to find.

The stone is mostly red sandstone, broken into flat slabs and stacked with mortar made of clay. The builders chose this stone because it was right here, and it splits into neat, flat pieces. Over the centuries, the mortar has washed out in places. Park crews have stabilised the walls so they stay standing. Look at the colour of the joints between stones. In some places, you may notice small differences, which show where repair work has been done.

Now, here is something most visitors do not think about. This whole landscape was shaped by a volcano. In the late eleventh century, Sunset Crater erupted to the south of here. It covered the surrounding land in black ash and cinders. You can still see that dark layer along the road. In the decades after the eruption, the number of people living in this area grew. Many archaeologists have linked the two events, though the exact reasons are still debated.

One popular idea is that the layer of cinders acted like a mulch. It may have held moisture in the soil and helped crops of corn, beans, and squash grow in a dry land. Other researchers think the story is more complicated, and that changes in climate and trade also mattered. What is certain is that during the twelfth century, this area became a busy meeting place. People from different cultural traditions lived close together here.

Archaeologists often describe these people as Sinagua, Cohonina, and Kayenta, names used for different ancestral groups of the region. Here at Wupatki, their traditions seem to mix. You can see it in the pottery found on the site and in the styles of building. Today, the Hopi and other tribes consider this place part of their ancestral homeland. For them, it is not an abandoned ruin. It is a place where their ancestors lived, and it still carries meaning.

Walk down below the main pueblo, and you will find a round structure with low walls. Many archaeologists call it a community room, or an amphitheater. It may have been used for gatherings or ceremonies. Nearby is something even more surprising... a ballcourt. It is an oval space with stone walls. Ballcourts like this are common far to the south, among the Hohokam people of central Arizona. Finding one this far north is unusual, and it suggests strong connections between distant communities.

Those connections reached very far. Excavations at Wupatki found the remains of scarlet macaws. These are bright tropical parrots. They do not live in northern Arizona. They come from far to the south, in Mexico and beyond. Someone carried them here, alive, over a long distance. Macaw feathers were valued for ceremony across the ancient Southwest. Think about that as you look across this dry grassland. This village was part of a trade network that reached hundreds of kilometres.

Now find the blowhole. It is a small opening in the ground near the ballcourt, connected to cracks deep in the earth. On some days, cool air rushes out of it. On other days, it pulls air in. This happens because the air pressure underground and above ground keep changing. Put your hand near the opening and feel it. People who lived here surely noticed this too. It is one of the strangest and simplest experiences at the whole monument.

By around the middle of the thirteenth century, people had moved away from Wupatki. Drought, changing resources, and social changes likely played a part. Hopi oral tradition describes migrations, with clans moving across the land before settling in their present villages. The stones stayed behind. For centuries afterward, the wind and occasional rain worked on the walls. In the early twentieth century, the area was protected as a national monument, so the villages could be studied and kept safe.

If you have time, drive the loop road that connects this monument with Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. Along the way are other pueblos, each with its own character. Wukoki stands on a block of sandstone and looks like a small tower. The Citadel sits on top of a hill with wide views. Lomaki rests at the edge of a small canyon. Each one shows the same skill in using local rock, but each is shaped by its own piece of ground.

The light here changes the stone through the day. At midday, the walls look pale and flat under a hard sun. Late in the afternoon, the sandstone turns deep red and orange, and the shadows inside the doorways grow long. The wind usually picks up in the afternoon too. Bring water, a hat, and something warm, because this high desert can change quickly. Stay on the marked trails. The walls are old, and the plants and soil here are easily damaged.

Before you leave, stand still once more. Look at one doorway in the pueblo, a small, dark rectangle in red stone. Someone stepped through that opening every day, carrying water, food, or a sleeping child. Listen to the wind again, and to the cinders under your feet as you turn back toward the path. The volcano is quiet now. The peaks are still on the horizon. And this tall house still stands on its ridge, exactly where its builders placed it.