Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1915-06-29
NOTES BY THE WAYSIDE.
GRAND CANYON, ARR,


although they may not prove very
interesting.
The morning after the first night
out from Chicago via the Santa Fe,
found US in Missouri. l could almost
have told it by the mules and darkies
in evidence. just before reaching Kan
sas City, we crossed the big, swollen
muddy Missouri on very high bridge
of which we shortly obtained fine
view from turn in the road. At
X. c.. the train stopped long enough
to enable US to get out and stroll
along the platform, as it also did at
Topeka and Emporia that day.
Shortly after leaving Kansas City,
where, of course we left Mo. behind
us, we saw evidences everywhere of
recent floods. In fact, we had the
novel and dangerous experience of
running right through pretty deep
water.
The Kaw river, tributary of the
Missouri, had overfiowed its banks
along the side of the railroad. and
the track was completely submerged
in several places. In one place, the
water was so high that the little
station and hot lunch counter house
had been deserted while the water
| covered their floors a foot or two
| deep. Here man padded out to us
| in row boat for mail.
| AS we crept so slowly along through
the swirling, muddy waters, the
train would often come to a full stop
when we wondered what had hap
| pened-Whether the track was washed
away, or the water had put out the
fire in the engine. Ut was said to be
high enough to do sO) and if so, how
| long we should have to stand on that
| track before we could be enabled to go
on. 1t was with sigh of relief that
we reached dry land. All the rest of
| that day, and far into the night we
we're crossing the big, fertile state OF
| Kansas, with its immense corn fields,
some of which looked pretty we'll
| drowned out by the recent floods.
| The second morning found us at
La Junta, Colorado, with fertile
| prairieS left behind and a suggestion
| of approaching mountains.
| AT Ell Marc we had our first sight of
| the Mexican adobe houses, built of
the adobe sundried bricks They are
| thick-walled, One-stOried, low, with
| flat roofs and look very uninviting.
We were glad to get out for little
stroll at Trinidad, Col, while the
train stopped long enough to have two
huge mOgul engines mountain climb
ers) attached to it, making three en-
gineS in all, two in front and one, the
'pusher," behind. This was to en-
| able us TO climb up to Ratou Pass, at
| the top Of which we passed through
| the Ration tunnel, and were in New
/ Mexico.
The climb here was pretty steep,
| the trains ascending 1886 feet in if
| teen minutes. 1t seemed hard to be-
lieve that there were 1870 acres of
land in cultivation near Trinidad
with 1000, 900 sheep and $4,000 head
of cattle pastured on nearby ranges.
Having seen so much 'grander
mountain scenery, the mountains
looked tame" to me that day, al
| though | enjoyed looking at their
ever-changing panorama, and the
Snowy Range with its snOW-capped
peaks looked like real mountains. and
later the beautiful snow-capped San
Francisco peaks charmed us, and were
| in sight all the next day, until we
reached the Grand Canyon.
At evening of the second day, we
reached Albuquerque, New Mexico,
where an hours stop gave us oppOr-
| tunity to walk around some of the
nearby business streets, and to exam
| inc the Indian and Mexican curiOS in
| the museum of the imposing Alvara-
do Hotel. The town seemed to be
"Wide open" even though it was Sun
| day evening. We had, grown rather
weary of seeing adobe houses, Indians,
Mexicans, sage brush, etc.
One thing of interest that day was
the old Santa Fe trail" one of the
oldest highways of our country, over
| which the emigrant trains used to
pass, and which is now converted into
a fine automobile road, running along
| by the side of the railroad from Trini-
| dad, up over the Ration pass to Santa
| Fe. Even in this arid desert waste
| the ubiquitous Ford was seen spin
ming along over it.
The trip to the Pacific coast that
cost the early emigrants so many
| weary months of hardship as they
craWled along in their OXen-drawn
| prairie schooners, we now make in a
| few days, surrounded by all the lux
| urieS of modern civilization as we
| glide along over the shining steel rails
| in the wake Of the SnOrting iron horse
with the long flowing name. Such
| are the limitations of time"
The third morning found us at
| WinSlow, AriZ., where we saw a high
| board fence built little distance
| from the town to keep out the sand
| The sand storms are so severe here
at times that the trains cannot get
through until they hire men to shovel
the sand off the tracks. Shortly af-
| ter this we crossed canyon Diablo
When we reached Williams, Ariz., we
left the main line of the Santa Fe,
and took train for the Grand can
Won, which we reached at about
4 o'clock p. m.
And now you will expect me to say
| something about the Grand canyon,
but | feel poWerless to say anything
adequate. Why should l attempt
when ADLER pens than mine have
failed? Why try to describe the
indescribable? There is nothing
like it in the whole world for
comparison. To say that it is i'm
mense, awful, grand, sublime,
etc, gives you no idea Of it. 1t is one
of the things that must be seen to
be appreciated. And even then one
cannot half appreciate it, it is toe
vast, and in this clear Arizona air,
distances are so deceiving. AS you
look across this Titan of chasms''
YOU cannot realize that it is thirteen
miles to the opposite rim. You are
fascinated, awe-stricken, spell-bound
by it.
AS l gazed on it for the first time
John l.. Stoddards Characterization
of it came to my mind. He says, "the
Grand canyon is nature wounded unto
death, lying stiff anf CHASTITY with a
cash in her barred breast two hundred
miles in length and a mile in depth
from which is flowing fast a stream
of life blood, called the Colorado"
This is not one great hollow chasm,
but is filled with vast shapes, like
mountains some of which have been
given names, such as ZarOaster's
Temple, Brhuma's Temple, etc.
think that the beautiful cOloring re-
lieves the place somewhat of its
ghaStlinesS.
took the never-to-be-f forgotten