Locals simply call it The Gap, but this 600-foot natural break in the rock is far more than a scenic pass. It is a living calendar, a sacred gathering place, and a vast stone archive shaped by the hands and observations of the Hopi, Paiute, and other Indigenous peoples who lived, traveled, and worshipped here long before roads, fences, or town names existed.

The smell was unmistakable: rotten eggs, sulfur heavy and sticky in the air. We pulled off the narrow track, dust settling behind us like a curtain, and Dan popped the hood. Everything looked normal, yet the odor lingered. That’s when Tara pointed off to the right, where the ground cracked open like a secret waiting to be told.