Take a Left at the Arby's: Casa Grande Ruins Nat'l Monument 3/4/11

After driving right by the damn thing in May of 2009, we had to make amends. Sure, it would mean making a very long trip that much longer (try 2,400 miles in five days), but how could we come within shouting distance once again and give it the finger? Mind you, this isn't Glacier National Park we're talking about here, and we knew its reputation beforehand (reviews classify it anywhere from "ridiculous" to "silly"), but as we've said again and again, passport stamps make a person do outrageous things, including spending less time in Tucson proper to drive an hour north for what amounts to an ancient observatory protected ever so gingerly by a giant umbrella.

Located in Coolidge, AZ (and I mean IN, as it is right across the street from a Walgreens), Casa Grande's surroundings make it impossible to take that all-important journey into the past (unless the 13th century had stoplights and a Lowe's franchise), but once you drive through the gate (strangely closed at first, as this is the first time we arrived at an NPS site before it opened for the day), you're in a better mood, as what lies before you is bleak beyond belief (see below). After a short drive, one arrives at a modest visitor center equipped with far more parking spaces than should be necessary. That said, it is rumored that this place is strangely popular, I'm guessing because plump tourists can snag a burger no more than 60 seconds after wrapping up the brief tour.

"Fine", you're likely saying, "we get it.....this is not a place for isolation and detachment....What else ya got?" That blessed canopy, of course, but hold on a minute. As we now believe in discussing the visitor centers as part of this world famous blog, we should warn you that while acceptable, it's not going to blow you away with artifacts and information. After all, while there are theories about the Hohokam people and the times in which they lived, few agree on Casa Grande's meaning. Like so many ancient structures of the Southwest,  the building holds great celestial significance (nothing was simply "thrown together"), but no evidence exists regarding what exactly went on within its walls. Yes, these were people in touch with their surroundings (in the desert, you'd better be), but in many respects, modern man is left to fill in the gaps, often with romantic notions that may or may not reflect actual history. It's likely we'll never really know.

So after skipping the video (it didn't sound promising, but we probably should have given it a chance) and gazing at one of the largest pieces of pottery we've ever seen, we walked the short distance to the back door, where the lone Casa stood. You won't spend a great deal of time here (you walk up, around, and back), but once you come upon it, the size is impressive, and you're not surprised to learn that at four stories and sixty feet in length, it is the largest known structure from the Hohokam period. Fortifications have been extensive, but the site allows an up-close-and-personal visit, including the inevitable slackjawed stare at the steel and concrete canopy. Yes, the canopy. Built in 1932 to protect Casa Grande from, um, the sun (I think), it seems to serve its purpose (they say it would be gone by now without protection, though one wonders how the hell it survived 800 years without such a modern monstrosity), but in some ways, any visit becomes more about what came about in 1932 rather than what survived from 1150. Still, I walked away thinking that without the canopy, Casa Grande might seem too "minor" a monument; a lonely building dwarfed by the vast Arizona desert.

Casa Grande can't help that it lacks the dramatic setting of Mesa Verde, or lonely (but teeming) canyon of Chaco, so one should be forgiving if it doesn't take one's breath away. While the canopy strips the site of its original power, it's really no different than adding a decidedly phony kiva, and we hardly punished Aztec Ruins for including one. Still, that kiva, while not built by ancient hands, gives visitors an idea of what one might have looked like those many centuries ago, while a canopy simply keeps the rain out and the birds in. The impulse was noble, perhaps, but there's an argument to be made that if the elements had taken it away, so be it. That's a far different animal than man-caused vandalism, after all.

FINAL RATING

5/10