Last month, a storm cleared out on a Friday night, leaving Saturday morning bright and sparkling. I’m really not a winter person, but what excited me was knowing that the snow level had dropped so low that Canyonlands National Park was covered in the white stuff. Now, snow in the mountains is beautiful, but snow in the canyon country is absolutely stunning. Since the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park is a short drive from my house, it didn’t take long for me to load up the car and head out to enjoy the beauty.
I should note that my definitions for driving distances are somewhat different than most others. A “short drive” is anything that is under three hours from my house. A destination that is “a little ways away” can take anywhere from four to six hours. If I must go somewhere “a bit far”, it’s longer than six hours away and usually requires a tent and a sleeping bag, or a hotel room. This excursion fell under the “short drive” category.
The road through Indian Creek had not been plowed except for the tire tracks of those few intrepid souls who drove out before me. Pulling into the parking lot at Newspaper Rock State Historical Monument I was greeted with about four inches of new snow.
Located on Utah’s Route 211 on the way into the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park, Newspaper Rock is an extremely popular place. The site protects a sandstone rock face covered with petroglyphs – etched or pecked drawings on the rock created by historic and prehistoric people dating back 2,000 years. Hundreds of petroglyphs adorn the stone, providing a series of stories that offer a glimpse into the lives of the prehistoric cultures that lived here before us, and of the Navajo and Ute people who still call this area their homelands.
Newspaper Rock is crowded in the summer. Really crowded. The parking lot is packed, cars are parked illegally along the road, and there’s often a wait to get to a vantage point where you can observe the petroglyphs. Once there, most people take a couple obligatory shots of the rock art, spend far more time posing for selfies or group shots, then leave, checking off one more scenic stop on their list. Few read the interpretive information located nearby; fewer spend time to ponder the existence of a stone “newspaper” with 2,000 years of information known only to the creators and their culture.
During my recent visit, there was no one at the site. The trail indicated that a few people had slogged through the snow before my arrival, but at that moment, the place was mine. Fresh snow stuck to the deeper incisions of some of the petroglyphs, accentuating their depth and providing a contrast to the red sandstone. Rivulets of melting snow ran down the rock face, puddling briefly in a deeply pecked petroglyph, pausing before cascading down to the ground. Each tiny stream took a few grains of sandstone here, a few grains there, all contributing to the slow, constant erosion of the petroglyphs.
The sun was warm despite the frigid temperatures, and I spent at least a half hour examining the massive display in front of me. Most visitors are drawn to the larger images: the “wagon wheel”, a petroglyph resembling a flying squirrel, a bison with its head lowered, or the multitude of bighorn sheep. These “headline” petroglyphs stand out in the confusing array of smaller images, all which have a story of their own.
How many visitors have spotted the long-beaked bird that reminds me of a hummingbird? How many saw the six-toed footprint that brings to mind a badger’s paw? And then there’s the more recent petroglyphs etched over older ones. Why would one do that? It’s not like it was a lack of space; so why cover the work of someone else with your own creation?
In the Southwest there are many, many “Newspaper Rocks” with hundreds of images crammed on the rock surface. Some are well-known stops in well-known locations. Others are hidden in the backcountry somewhere, far from a parking lot and pit toilet. Some are smaller, “tabloids” if you will, still with numerous images and compelling stories. All invite hours, days, years, of pondering and thought. Yet we often tend to only look at the headlines: those images that stand out clearly, may be larger than others, and have shapes that are recognizable in our minds. But all those images were painstakingly created for a reason. The little petroglyphs, footnotes to the bigger story, have meaning as well. They, too, request our attention, so that we may understand more of the bigger picture.
Even today, how many of us only pay attention to the headlines when we watch the news or peruse social media? How many seek more information by looking at the whole story, not just the first paragraph or the attached photos? How many take the time to question what we see? How much are we missing?
My recent wintry visit to Newspaper Rock was easily my 20th visit to this special place. I don’t think I ever noticed the small petroglyph on the left side of the panel; an orb, carefully filled in with peck marks, and surrounded on ¾ of the exterior with eight matching points, faintly resembling a dandelion seed head. It’s covered in snow in the overall photo I took. It wasn’t until I was about to leave that the snow melted enough and it caught my eye. If you would like to see it, I guess you’ll have to visit it yourself.
