The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1886-09-30

GRAND JUNCTION, Aug. 9th, 1885,.


GRAND JUNCTION, Ang. 9th, 1885,.
EDITORS FLoRDIAN: have chiefly written
you hitherto of my wanderings along the lines
| of the principal railways of Colorado, and of
scenes more or less familiar To most oi the tour
| lists who seek these heights. Since my last let
| ter, however, l have been into The wilderness
have lived for days in lovely terra incognita,
and studied Nature in her original wild savagery
| and remote fastnesses.
| Three weeks since, one of my Red Cliff friends
| proposed that should accompany him to his
| rancho on Douglas Creek, for visit Of n lew
| days. "There is not much in the way of i'm
provements to show you" he frankly said, i" for
| it was only last fall that We took up the land
aud we have been waiting to examine The sum
mer grass before putting in our cattle. We have
| some cabins there, however, and the boys can
| take care OF US for week or two and the coun-
| try is interesting" So told him would 90
| Our equipment was simple, consisting chiefly of
bundle of reading matter, a roll of blankets
and two Winchester rifles Thena ride OF some
| fifteen hours down the valley and over Marshall
| Pass brought us just before day to Grand juno
| ton, young town about three Hundred miles
west OF Denver, where we sought hotel and
| beds.
Smith had risen ard gone wasfi l made my
appearance the next morning, but he drove
| up to the hotel on a blackboard drawn by
| couple OF young bronch0 ponies and after Sc
| curing our traps thereon we started due north
heading for distant range OF yellow hills which
| appeared far away across the valley This val
| ley, lying along the Grand river just below
| the confluence of the Gunnison, would impress
one at first sight as being worthless and desert
| sage brush being the only vegetation and the
| soil so full of alkal as to make the dust bitter
and irritating. Not tree was to be seen as far
as sight could range except dark green belt
along the Grand river mile to the left, and the
| only mountains IN sight were the San Juan
group, so far to the south that their snow fields
| might readily have been mis aiken for dim sum
| mer clouds. In strong contrast TO their blue and
| silver tints were the barren looking bluffs which
| stretched across our road 10 the north and west
| As bare and precptous as icehergs and with the
| July sun turning them into enormous bricks
| so to speak-it made one hot and tired only TO
| look at them The valley tor forty miles up to
| their very base seemed flat and barren, with
| tremendous haze covering the whole scene.
We had not gone far when l became aware
| that even this unnvltIng section had been in
| vadcd by the ubiquitous pioneer, wire fences
| and cabins appearing in all directions. Within
two miles we crossed an immense iIrigatmg Ca
nal filled with water drawn from the Grand river
| some miles above the town, and flowing across
| the valley at such an elevation that large area
could be watered 10y small lateral ditches.
| settler whom we met told US that the soil had
| been pronounced fertile and peculiarly fitted to
| the cultivation of grain and fruit. This was
| confirmed ere long by the miles otthriy young
| orchards We passed, each row of tiny trees hav
| ing flowing stream of perhaps six inches in
| width within reach
| Although we soon became clothed with dust
| as with garment, we could get no relief for our
| thirst, all the water we passed being thoroughly
| charged with alkali was sustained by Smiths
| assurances of reaching Crevasse by noon where
! we would find both rest and refrcshment, and
| for this waited. l have accustomed myself to
expect most anything in the West, and though
| the surroundings were not encouraging / as
| sumed that Crevasse WAS some rocky glen, shady
| with pines and frs and with a cool stream wash
| ing It's sides. The real Crevasse l found ulli-
maely to be water tank standing in The midst
| of vast soliute on the line OF The Rio GraE,,e
| railway The water however was cool and
sweet being pumped from tie Grand river, two
miles away, and the shade of the structure was
| most welcome, SO that We were really refreshed.
But our journey was only half done, and at
two o'clock we crawled from beneath the tank
and drove out into the Desert, northward
The ride was one of twenty five miles over a
| level plain, on which moi bush or shrub ap-
peared more than few inches in height and
| where il seemed rs if no water has flowed since
the Deuge. The ruddy cliffs toward which we
drove promised no change in this respect, being
entirely bare of vegetation and broken into all
manner of fantastic shapes. Not a living crca-
ture appeared during the afternoon and the dust
and heat were frightful. The sun hung poised
above The distant hills of Utah for hours as if
uncertain whether to descend any farther, and
the only sound in the vast stiffness the
grinding sand beneath our wheels. Occasional
ly there would appear, some halt mile in front
CLASSY lake whose placid waters reflected dark
rows OF trees which seemingly lined the banks
but on approach this would tade away into the
gray monotony of the plain, resolve itself into
some slight depression in the arid soil, covered
with white layer OF pure bitter alkai.
After what seemed thirty or forty hours the
| unknown Joshua who held back the sun relented
and let him 60 and, as he descended, we reached
the Cliffs and passed into a narrow canon which
led back among the hills An hours ride brought
US to a cattle ranch owned by a Leadve friend
where we met with Rocky Mountain hospitality
and on the next morning We saddled' our bron
chos and rode up the canon.
| In studying the map OF Colorado, preparatory
to taking this trip, had noticed that the range
We were now entering was called the Book
mountains, and as the geographical nomencla
ture of the state is usually appropriate had felt
some curiosity as to the cause of the name. Now
found that the prodigality of Nature is mex
haustible, for the canon up which We rode was
unlike any had ever seen and the name which
had puzzled me was singularly suited to its ob
ject.
I
dred TO thousand feet in height and rose per
pendicularly. The valley wound up into tn,
| mountains for some fifteen miles but this feaiur,
never varied and the hundreds of cattle which
we passed were rs safely fenced as those in an,
harvard of the East Dozens of little "rincons
of a few hundred feet in width and of varying
length branched off al intervals into The wilder
ness of peaks which engulfed us, but the sam,
upright walls enclosed them all.
The basalic formation of these cliffs gav'
them their name, and no better could have beer
found. Imagine library shelf filed with enor
nous volumes whose rounded backs, each fift,
feet in height, formed fading perspective fo
miles of distance, and you have an idea of tht
scene presented On both sides of our route
far above us-thcse "book mountains" stretched
westward as we rode for hours. Sometime
there would he four or five rows, one abov,
another, and on so vast a scale that the spaces
separating them would present a view of acre
ofgrass aud timber, where the foot of man ha
never trod and probably never will.
By noon the Indian trail had brought us t.
towering walls which almost overhung us
thought that our only escape was by retroges
sion Smith however pointed out narrow pal
which crawled upward along the face of th
precipice and disappeared over its brow fiv
hundred feet overhead, and learned that W
W. ere expected to attempt its passage. So ridin
| Jennings of our blankets and saddles, wound ou
and with a rawhide in readiness as dscou
ager of hesitancy" urged them upwards.