The Preservation of Saving an archaeological site is no easy matter. To protect this important Mogollon site, the Conservancy applied its expertise and got a lot of help from its friends. By Kathleen Bryant
I
t’s an unusually hot July day in the Richville Valley north of Springerville, in east-central Arizona. Temperatures hover near the century mark as thunderheads build above the White Mountains. The clouds looming to the south tease the crew working at Sherwood Ranch Pueblo with the possibility that the summer rainy season, known statewide as the monsoon, might make its grand entrance. The crew—a mixture of volunteers and staff of The Archaeological Conservancy—watches the horizon as closely as pueblo dwellers must have done hundreds of years ago. Though everyone working in the blistering heat is concerned about the Southwest’s long-running drought, a storm would be a mixed blessing, slowing progress on this important project. The partially excavated 300-room pueblo, a recent acquisition of the Conservancy’s, is being stabilized to prevent further erosion of exposed walls. Vicki Erhardt and Lila Elam, members of the Arizona Archaeological Society, a volunteer group that assists professional archaeologists, are here from Phoenix, where this kind of heat is routine. Even then, the kiva where they are working, measuring and piecing heavy black geotextile fabric, is beginning to feel like a solar-collecting oven. Elam plucks her water bottle from the sparse shade beneath a saltbush and pauses for a drink. “We arrived on-site Friday evening just as the sun was setting,” she says. “We saw a herd of elk grazing in the valley below as the full moon was coming up over the horizon.” It was a peaceful prelude to the race to complete the stabilization before the summer rains begin. Since then, work has proceeded quickly, and several rooms have already been backfilled with sterile soil. The Great Kiva where Elam and Erhardt labor is next. On top of features they have neatly fitted with geotextile, Erhardt arranges ceramic tiles impressed with the Archaeological Conservancy logo. The tiles will mark the extent of work to this point, a signal to future excavators that they have reached the bottom of sterile fill. Beginning in the 1980s, the privately owned White Mountain Archaeological Center leased the 11-acre site from its owners, the Sherwood family. White Mountain dubbed it the Raven Ruin and launched a pay-to-dig program that excavated about 100 rooms and recovered some 70 types of pottery, along with other artifacts. Even after decades of looting and wandering livestock, the site contained significant cultural deposits, including trash middens and kivas. Unfortunately, after White Mountain ceased its operations at the end of the 1990s, partly excavated rooms were left exposed to the elements. Due to inadequate fencing, the site remained vulnerable to looters and livestock. “The kiva walls were badly eroded and needed im38
(Upper left) A huge truck dumps sterile dirt to be used for backfilling. (Above) This is an example of the tiles that were placed on top of the geotextile to inform future researchers of the depths of previous excavations. The tiles were made by Conservancy employee Tione Joseph.
winter • 2003-04
