Sacred Ground

Today, the Great Grandchildren of the Northern Ute Nation have returned to Florissant, to dance in the shadows of the great mother TAVA (Pikes Peak). I am privileged to be able to join them in their worship. These are the ancestors of Chipita, considered one of the greatest beauties of the Ute, and wife of Ouray; and Manitou, a peace loving chief, for which Manitou Springs was named after, along with the children of Ouray, the Chief of Chiefs of the Northern Ute. I am humbled to be in the presence of such great people, such tradition, and love. Their respect of their traditional home is obvious. For thousands of years their ancestors have walked the wooded paths that I walk today. They walked with unsoled moccasins, to feel the vibration of mother earth. They were the first to aquire horses from the spaniards and regarded them as large magical dogs. This allowed them to hunt buffalo and swift animals, as well as being used as beasts of burden for the noamdic tribe. They planted rarely, sometimes trading for food goods. They found pottery inadequate and relied upon tightly woven baskets to carry their loads.

The "Shining Mountains", (Rockies) were their home, and the State of Utah was named for them. During the 1870's treaty after treaty was broken, taking away the shining mountains as their ancestral home. The Utes were restricted to reservations. The Utes did not reject miners taking metals from their mountains, but asked that no settlements be made. This was the beginning of the tribe's demise in their sacred land. Apparently the "immigrants" felt that they owned wherever they travelled, and defended those areas with firearms. From 1870-1890 Ute land was taken through "treaties", which were broken prior to the ink being dry.

Deep in the ponderosa pines, away from the highway, with just the sounds of birds and small animals scurrying in the brush, I can feel it. I can look over the landscape of the peak, Indian Creek, Crystal Peak, and Wilkerson Pass to the west. I have a great view of TAVA and I daydream and imagine their campsites in the distance. There are no visable signs, the Ute tread lightly upon the land, and took only what was needed. Being nomadic, they would hunt an area for a period of time, then move onto others to allow the land to replentish. They were natural conservationists, respecting mother earth, and thanking the creator for their bounty.

Just think, no electric bills, no polution, no rent, no noisy dirt bikes tearing up the delicate plants that survive in the decomposed granite. All that you need to eat or drink is there, free. Disease was rare, and children played in the forest unaware of fear or danger. The world has certainly changed. And not for the better. Their dances bring sorrow now. Sorrow of a lost place in time. And yet, they still dance, and praise mother earth.