Summer 2007
Summer 2007
The Lizard Cave of Vogel Canyon
Story and photos by J. Ben Manzanares
I took a trip to Vogel Canyon with some classmates in
February 2007. The trip could not have come at a worse time for me. So in a
drunken haze, I took off, away from Pueblo, and away from the miseries that were
waiting for me back at home. My life was in disarray. I was depressed, and the
long drive to the canyon led my mind to wander.
Vogel Canyon looks desolate, alone, deserted. Long plains of grass cover the
landscape with increments of rolling hills on both sides of the road. Along the
plains there are juniper trees everywhere, and cholla cactus line the ground.
There are sheets of snow on the ground from the massive snow storm that hit the
eastern part of the state
As we drive down the muddy road, I look to the east where the Spanish Peaks lie,
and below them is what is left of the Great Plains the Comanche once roamed.
Staring out at the mountains my eyes begin to burn--I had been working all
night, and the night before had drunk the night away before going to work. No
sleep in 37 consecutive hours. There was no food in my stomach and I didn’t
bring water--just cigarettes and my notebook.
Driving past windmills and barbed wire, we approach the entrance to the canyon.
We entered the picnic area at noon. From there we follow a path down into the
canyon--where the wind howls and the Comanche spirit roams. My stomach growls
and I start feeling light-headed. But the cool canyon wind rushes through my
lungs cleansing me from the city smog I have accustomed to.
The canyon walls are cluttered with remnants of partially removed graffiti. When
we walk to the bottom of the canyon the walls shelter us from the wind. But a
strong breeze rips through this canyon almost constantly. At the bottom of the
canyon there is a small spring oasis.
The canyon walls are orange, and the aged rock has turned black. There are
figments of ancient petroglphs all along the wall. But most of the wall is
riddled with bullet fractures that have all but obliterated the Native art.
Conservationists as of late have really applied themselves to save what’s left
of the native art. The Natives of these plains must have sought refuge in this
area. Like me they have came to this area to hide from the rest of the world.
The golden rock formations seem to indicate that water once flushed this arroyo
thoroughly. There are water marks all along the canyon walls. Hard-core
preservationists saved this area from the beast man, who would have shot bullets
at the wall until the rocks eroded to nothing. The signs throughout the trail
tell a history about the people that crossed the Bering Strait some 10,000 years
ago after the Ice Age to occupy the Americas. But as I walk through the canyon I
see the impact of man. I see a different story. I see what Vogel Canyon has
become in the past twenty years. The story of this areas history hasn’t been
erased, but it sure has been drawn all over.
The Lizard Cave…
As I walk along the beaten path toward the main wall of the canyon notice here
is a rock formation above. To me it looks like a lizard’s head. He sits on the
south end of the canyon, overlooking the valley’s spring. The cave hovers over
the valley. So I hike up a semi steep hill towards the cave. The cave is hidden,
and it sits on the bend of the canyon. No wind enters the cave; it is tranquil,
and high above the ground. There is a huge rock that serves as a wall for the
winds that blow from the Northwest. The cave could easily house a small family
of a traveling tribe. There is room for a fire, and its strategic location-gives
a reassuring look of the entire valley. It’s accessible and highly camouflaged.
The Lizard Cave is the only housing within the canyon. Inside I am warm and away
from the elements. I sit in there and smoke and write, and think about what this
gorge must have looked like 10,000 years ago. There would be no bullet holes,
and water would probably flood the valley. All along the cave walls are
watermarks. Now wind fills the valley and the water is all but gone.