The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1916-02-24
"Reminiscences OF
Western Travels.

western travels.
BY HELEN m. TODD.
XIII.
The Hermit Rim Drive and Bright Angel
Trail.
Shortly after lunch the stages for the
Hermit Rim Drive assembled in front of
the broad hotel veranda. A little extra
agility in mounting to the high drivers
seat of the stage to which we were
assigned. secured for US that coveted
place OF honor, and we were soon driving
OIL westward over the fine new road to
Hermit's Rest, about eight miles away.
The road followed closely along the can
yon rim, and the ever changing lights
and shadows in the wonderful gorge which
lay before US as far as the eye could
reach. exhausted our supply of adiec-
tives and left US speeches. with wonder.
1t was as if all the colors on painters
palette had been blended and then splash
ed over everything in sight. At hopi,
Mojave, and Pima Points we alighted
from the stage to get closer view. One
could never feel acquainted to any de-
gree with the Grand Canyon, l think, -
its very immensely is beyond comprehen-
sion. and where we had loved the Yo-
semitic, and later were amazed and de-
| lighted with the canyon of the Yellow
stone. we were awed by the Grand Can
yon and it seemed almost like sacrilege
is dare to admire it.
| The drive was hot one, and since it
was as yet only the thirtieth of May, we
did not envy the tourists who would come
in July. The stop at Hermit's Rest at
the end of the road, a delightful retreat
cut into the solid rock, with roofed-in
porch and a parapet wall was most
welcome change, and the sight of huge
bowls of iced tea and punch that were
provided there for our refreshment, call
ed forth EXPLANATIONS of delight. We
spent a pleasant half hour around the
tea tables, admiring the rude handmade
furniture of Spanish design that adorned
the main room, and watching the view
from the porch overhanging the Canyon.
Here the Hermit Trail begins, an easy
descent from the Rim to the river below,
which the tourist can accomplish on dom
key back, in two days, camping at night
at the Hermit Camp on the plateau. Our
way, however, led back to the hotel,
though the ancient Tusayan forest,
where the trees were gnarled and stunt
ed and apparently centuries old. That
evening we sat on the esplanade in front
of Ell Tovar, and watched full moon
rise over the Canyon. sight that beg
CARED description, but can never be for
gotten. Later the Indian dances at the
Hopi House claimed our attention, and
in company with many of the other
hotel guests we watched the Indians,
Navajos, HOPPE, and Supais, men, wom-
en-, children and babies, join in their
ceremonial dances for our benefit. Each
one, the rain dance, harvest dance,
snake dance, ETC., was announced, and
at its close the performers scrambled
for the coins thrown on the floor by the
spectators.
Immediately after breakfast next
morning there was hurrying and sour
rying to obtain the necessary riding
equipment for the journey down Bright
Angel Trail. AS each one registered for
the trip his weight was asked and care
fully recorded, and l presume it was
case of "no heavy weights neeu apply"
We had no difficulty in qualifying, and
finally succeeded in finding riding clothes
that were an approximate fit, at least
When we were finally arrayed am sure
sight of US would have made the pro-
verbal cat laugh. Warned by travellers
who had previously made the trip we had
left off all the under-garments possible
and wlre in light marching order. l
wore MILDLY blouse. blue denim bloom
ers under divided skirt, and riding leg
gins up to my knees, while Will was at
tractively costumed in faded blue over
alls and jumper, and leggins also.
carried the field glasses slung over nv
shoulder and Will the Kodak, while the
GROWING touch of each costume was in
the wide brimmed steeple-crowned hat
of unadorned peanut-straw tied under
our chins with string. We certainly
made ludicrous appearance, but when
We looked about at our fellow tourists
we felt quite as well dressed as they,
At nine O'Clock we assembled at the
corral, where the guides had already sad
died the mules for the trip. As on our
donkey trips before we had 70 voice in
choosing our gallant steeds, but humbly
took what was given US. did raise my
voice in protest however, when Tom, the
biggest mule of the lot was assigned to
me, the smallest member of the party.
Protest was unavailing, as the cowboy
guide only grinned cheerfully and ad-
justed the stirrups. Speaking with due
reflection, Tom was the most enormous
mule l ever hope to see. and after nv
! experience with him l could easilv inn