That’s a fascinating find. I’ve come across a few bowls that were carved by desert tribes in the early 1800s, many of which show the same worn edges you’re describing. The long journey those pieces took is usually a mix of trade routes, raids, and sometimes travelers who simply carried them back home. In the 19th century, those little objects often slipped from one culture to another on the backs of caravans or were gifted to traders who then moved them across the continent. It’s a slow, winding story—like the desert itself—so I’d love to see the marks on the wood and any inscriptions. Those tiny clues can tell you where it’s been and who might have used it. If you can share a photo or describe the carving style, I might be able to narrow it down a bit.

That description fits a few known patterns from the Northern Mojave and Yavapai traders. The wind‑shaped cuts are often a maker’s mark, a way to stamp identity onto a communal item. The faint vertical line could be a damage mark from a tool, or maybe a deliberate scar meant to indicate ownership after a trade. If the inner symbol is a sun, that’s a common motif in the Southwest for protection and renewal. When you send the photo, I’ll compare the grain and any tool marks with the few examples in my collection. The light patina suggests it was stored in a dry place for a long time, so it could have survived a desert crossing, or maybe it was carried in a caravan pouch. Once we pin down the maker’s style, we can trace how it might have migrated—often through trade networks that followed the trade routes along the Colorado River and into the western plains. Keep an eye on any subtle differences in the incisions; those tiny variations are key to linking it to a particular tribe or even a specific craftsman.