The trees remember: Sheepherders’ carvings preserved in the San Juan Mountains
share
PAGOSA SPRINGS, Colo. — In the San Juan National Forest, a group of visitors huddled around an aspen tree in awe. Carved into the pale bark were the words, “Willie Garcia, Thomas Valdez, Aug. 20, 1939.”
Sheepherding around Pagosa Springs peaked in the late 1800s and early 1900s. As Hispanic sheepherders roamed the mountains, often alone for months at a time, they carved names, dates and drawings into the soft bark of aspen trees. These carvings, called arborglyphs, now serve as records of the people who once worked these hillsides.
Many sheepherders from Mexico, Central America and South America still work in Colorado today, continuing a tradition that stretches back generations.
Because aspens rarely live more than 150 years, many of these tree carvings are nearing the end of their lifespan. Most depict names and dates, but some include more detailed sketches of people, houses or horses.
Today, carving into aspen trees on national forests and grasslands is illegal and can damage the tree.
Peggy Bergon, a longtime Pagosa Springs resident and arborglyph researcher, has spent 45 years photographing and documenting these carvings. She now leads tours to teach others about them. So far, she has recorded more than 3,000 arborglyphs with the oldest dating back to 1897.
“When I started, [the arborglyph] was considered nothing but graffiti. It was not important at all,” said Bergon. “But I had a different feeling about that because there was so little written record, particularly in this part of the country, of who was on the land and when.”
Arborglyphs like these can be found across the West, especially in aspen groves throughout Idaho, Nevada, California, and Colorado, places once home to Basque and Hispanic sheepherding communities.
After decades of hiking through the forest, Bergon has come to recognize the same names and carving styles across many trees. Two sheepherders she’s especially familiar with are Salomon Trujillo, who left markings from the late 1920s to early 1930s, and Bernardo Gallegos, who carved from the late 1920s into the early 1940s.
After her work gained attention in the community, Bergon has helped four or five families identify carvings left behind by their sheepherder fathers or grandfathers.
Over the past 20 years, Bergon estimates that 70% to 90% of the arborglyphs she once documented have disappeared. It took her time to accept that the trees, and their messages, would eventually fade. As she put it, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Bergon and the San Juan Mountains Association are now building a digital database to preserve records of the carvings before they vanish completely.
“I think the most important thing that the arborglyph says is that, ‘I was here,’” Bergon said. “It’s a young man saying that I was here and doing a job. This is a small, unique piece of written, living history here.”
Type of story: News
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. To read more about why you can trust the journalism of Rocky Mountain PBS, please visit our editorial standards and practices page.
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. To read more about why you can trust the journalism of Rocky Mountain PBS, please visit our editorial standards and practices page.