This description came from Bill Gibson, a Bureau of Land Management planning and environmental specialist. Not until we stood atop it did we notice the intricately aligned stones that made up the pueblo's primitive walls and doorway, and the distinct foundation lines of what reportedly was a 150-room settlement. And indeed, tiny pieces of pottery lay everywhere. But it wasn't nearly the 13th-century Melrose Place I had expected. Still, the walls stood low and lean and the entryways square and level, a humble testament to the survival skills of the people who occupied this land.
Nobody seems to know exactly which Native American tribes lived here.
The local Yavapai Indians feel strongly connected to the land, but that's about all we have. But it was Indians we thought of as we stood on Pueblo La Plata on a tempestuous Saturday afternoon, without another person or vehicle in sight. The habitation sits on a rise, guarded to the north and west by a deep arroyo called Silver Creek and to the south by a far less significant gulch. To the east lies the wide, lumpy mesa, a lonesome, exposed horizon that probably helped the Indians monitor the movements of enemies and animals alike. Leaving the pueblo area an hour later, we saw a coyote weaving through a maze of cactus and mesquite bushes, a desert mercenary starting his evening rounds.