(Editor’s note: This column is the second part of a two part series.)

As we continued our journey through the Southwest, our next stop brought together two of my great loves, history and natural beauty at Mesa Verde National Park in southwestern Colorado. Here, an ancient window into the past flings wide open, offering visitors like me a rare opportunity to peer inside.

What little I knew of this ancient place came from my childhood View-Master reels. I remember eagerly clicking through the 1960s edition of Mesa Verde, longing for the day I’d witness its wonders in person. Decades later, that dream became a reality. Though I had only a basic understanding of its story, I was eager to learn more.

I discovered that the Pueblo people lived in the region for over 700 years, from 550 to 1300 CE. Just imagine, they had migrated away over 725 years ago, and yet so much remains to tell their story. It was after 1150 that they began constructing the now-iconic cliff dwellings, and I was awestruck by how well-preserved and sophisticated they still are.

I had expected perhaps a few hidden homes nestled in cliffside alcoves, but I was astonished to learn that over 600 of these dwellings exist throughout the park. Their placement, tucked back into natural rock shelters, protected them from the harsh elements and their enemies. Many still stand, some two and three stories tall, testaments to both their architectural genius and resilience.

As I stood admiring the detail of these ancient structures, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine life as it once was. I could see a potter shaping clay vessels beneath the shade of the cliffs, decorating them with delicate patterns. I could smell woodsmoke from cooking fires and hear the rhythmic thud of a mortar and pestle grinding corn into flour. I marveled at the sure-footed agility it must have taken to scale the cliffs with only narrow footholds, daily life balanced between sky and stone.

One of my favorite hikes in the park was Petroglyph Point Trail. If you’re unfamiliar with petroglyphs, as I was, you’ll be fascinated to learn that these are ancient images engraved into stone surfaces. For the Pueblo people, they were a form of storytelling etched in rock.

This trail, labeled strenuous, proved worthy of the warning. While not long in distance, it was narrow and rugged with steep drop-offs that came dangerously close to the edge of the canyon. Just when we thought the worst was behind us, having finally reached the petroglyphs, we found ourselves crawling on all fours up boulders to crest the canyon. It was only after the hike that I learned a man had tragically fallen to his death on this very trail the year before. I’m quite glad I didn’t know that beforehand.

That night, we stayed in one of the park lodges, looking forward to a restful night’s sleep. But rest proved elusive when our food supply fell victim to a hungry, unidentified varmint. The midnight snack raid resulted in everything being tossed into the trash. Nature always has the last laugh.

Though I’ve spent a lot of time describing Mesa Verde, it’s not for lack of love for our other stops. Space and time prevent me from diving into each in detail, but I hope these highlights spark your curiosity and inspire your own journey.

That said, I would be remiss not to mention our Capitol Reef horseback adventure. A spur-of-the-moment decision turned out to be one of the trip’s best. It had been a while since I’d been on horseback, but I quickly bonded with my steady quarter horse, Pace. Our guide, a true-blue cowgirl and recent high school graduate, was a joy to talk with. She dreams of restoring her family’s original homestead and regularly works cattle drives, often spending 21 hours in the saddle before catching a few hours’ sleep. After just two hours on horseback, I was sore for days. I can only imagine how she feels after weeks of that routine. I hobbled away with a renewed respect for life on the range.

Our final stop was Bryce Canyon National Park, world-renowned for its surreal rock formations known as hoodoos, not to be confused with voodoo. Hoodoos are towering, whimsical spires carved by erosion, sometimes called “fairy chimneys” for their magical appearance. In fact, Bryce Canyon holds the highest concentration of limestone hoodoos on Earth, not just in the United States, but the entire world. No wonder the air is filled with languages from across the globe; it’s a magnet for nature lovers everywhere.

Due to strong, blustery winds (evidenced by a photo of me sporting a windblown mohawk), we opted for the more moderate Queen’s Garden Trail. The hike took us down into the canyon, winding among the hoodoos as they stood watch over our descent and return.

By the end of the week, we had hiked more than 45 miles, ridden horseback through canyon country, and filled our souls with stories etched in rock, carried in the wind, and written in the sky. Though our legs were wobbly, our hearts were full.

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Rhonda S. Kelley is the executive director of the Juniata River Valley Chamber of Commerce.