THE GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO
Nowhere else on the face of the globe is one so vividly impressed by the
vastness of the work of corrasion as in the northwestern part of
Arizona. Here the mutilated breast of Mother Earth discloses a chasm
from three thousand feet to seven thousand feet deep, cut through
horizontal strata of sandstone, shale, limestone, and granite, chiefly
by the agency of water.
This stupendous chasm is the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. It is
more than two hundred miles long; and from rim to rim its walls measure
in places twenty miles across. It is not a clean-cut open channel from
wall to wall, but, on the contrary, it is filled with castellated peaks,
buttes, pinnacles, ridges, seams, and lesser canyons. Down deep in its
lowest part, hurrying onward with impetuous speed, is the river itself.
Geologists tell us that this stream was an ancient river before the
Mississippi was born and that it formerly watered a valley as fertile.
Ages ago when Time was young the river found its channel closed by an
obstruction--just how, or where, or by what, no one knows. So it spread
out into a great lake, or, perhaps, into an inland sea several thousand
feet deep. The rock waste carried into its basin hardened into
sandstone--red, pink, and white of many shades.
After this great inland sea had become dry the Colorado River was
born--just how, or when, or because of what, one can only guess. But
when it was born it began to undo what its predecessor had done. It cut
a channel in the surface of the sandstone and then began business in
earnest. It loosened little pieces of sharp flint from the sandstone and
swept them along with such force that each became a tiny mallet and
chisel combined to cut and carry away other rock. And so it kept on
until it had carved a passage not only to the original granite bed rock
but in places a thousand feet or more into it. A few localities
excepted, the canyon does not form a single gash; nor has it the usual
V-shape of canyons in regions of plentiful rainfall. On the contrary,
its cross-section takes the form of a succession of steps and terraces,
as though the river cut the channels successively in decreasing widths.
And because the region through which it flows is one of very slight
rainfall, all the landscape outlines are bold and sharply angular.
All told, an area comprising two hundred thousand square miles has been
denuded to the depth of six hundred feet, and the material borne
southward by the Colorado and its tributaries, while the land through
which they flow has been literally drained to death. Even the
tributaries have formed deep lateral canyons that meet the level of the
main stream. It staggers the mind to try to grasp the time expressed in
countless eons since the youth of this now senile river.
[Illustration: The Grand Canyon of the Colorado]
As early as 1540 Spanish explorers made known to the world the fact that
a deep and impassable gorge existed in one part of the Colorado River,
and again in 1776 a Spanish priest revived a knowledge of its existence.
Then, for many years afterward, the canyon claimed but little attention
because it was so difficult of access, and so little was known of its
colossal dimensions and the marvellous carvings within its walls.
Just above the Grand Canyon and continuous with it is Marble Canyon, so
called because of the immense beds of marble that form a part of its
walls. In both canyons the limestone sometimes takes the form of marble,
or gypsum, or alabaster--crystallized forms of limestone which take a
fine polish.
This remarkable river with its canyons was first explored by Major
Powell in 1869. With nine men and four boats he started from a landing
on Green River in Utah, floated down Green River to its junction with
the Grand, and thence down the Colorado below the mouth of the Virgin to
the Grand Wash. There he landed after having passed through the entire
length of the canyon.
The time spent in this voyage was ninety-eight days, and the distance
travelled was upward of one thousand miles. Four of his men left him
when the voyage was but partly finished, being frightened by the perils
that beset them. They were killed by Indians. The others, after many
accidents and hair-breadth escapes, succeeded in getting through in
safety.
In addition to the rapidity of the current the river has many rapids and
water-falls with jagged projecting rocks which make boating extremely
hazardous. All these perils were conjectured but unknown to Major
Powell's party, and every new bend of the river was liable to disclose
a cataract more dangerous than any encountered before. Then the
reverberating sound of the roaring river as it struck the sides of its
lofty prison walls together with the deep gloom of the mighty abyss was
calculated to terrify the bravest. Thus, facing death at every turn of
the stream, the men were kept constantly in a tense state of excitement.
A wealth of adjectives has been expended in attempting properly to
describe the immensity of this great handiwork of nature, and scores of
persons have produced fascinating word-paintings of its awe-inspiring
grandeur.
Leading back from the river the canyon walls are made up in part of
shelving rocks and terraces. These, with peaks, buttes, and myriads of
other structures arising from the great gulf, show plainly the different
strata of rocks of which they are composed. Many of these rocks are
richly colored; the tints as a rule result from the salts of iron and
other mineral matter disseminated through them. In some instances the
coloring material of the upper strata has been washed down by the storms
and has stained the rock of the walls below. This is the case in the
Grand Canyon, where the limestone wall is colored red by the iron in an
overlying stratum.
When the gigantic forms partly filling the chasm, yet standing apart
from each other, are seen near sunrise or sunset with their shifting
shadows, they leave on the mind remembrances that will never fade.
To appreciate properly the magnitude and height of these towering masses
one should examine them not only by travelling along the brink, but by
descending to the river level in order to examine them from below. Then
only will the awful grandeur and immensity of this monumental
architecture of nature begin to dawn upon the understanding.
To the geologist this chasm is an intensely interesting book which
reveals much of the history of the past in world-building.
Some years ago a company was formed in New York to build a scenic
railroad through Marble and Grand Canyons. Engineers were sent out not
only to make a careful survey of the canyons but also to make a series
of photographs which should form a continuous panoramic view of the
proposed route. A large sum of money was spent in making the surveys;
then the project was abandoned. Possibly at some future time the scheme
may be revived and a road be built, using as its motive power
electricity generated by the river itself.
The Grand Canyon is now easily reached by the Santa Fe Railway system.
From the main line at Williams a branch road extends to El Tovar, Grand
Canyon station, which is located near the edge of the canyon. The
descent to the bottom of the canyon can be made by several trails. Those
noted for easy descent and the best views are Grand View and Red Canyon
Trails from Grand View, Bright Angel Trail from El Tovar, and Bass Trail
from Bass Camp. Each has its own special charms, and for one limited as
to time it is difficult to make a choice.
The course of the Colorado and its tributary, Green River, presents some
interesting problems. The latter has cut its channel directly across the
Uinta Mountains, and the Colorado has sawed its channel to the base
level of a series of plateaus, sometimes called the Sierra Abajo. And
the interesting problem is--how was the sawing process accomplished? It
needs only a moment's thought to understand that the river could not
flow against the base of a mountain range and bore a passage through it,
much less clear out an open passage miles in width.
[Illustration: Grand View Trail Looking toward Apache Point from Mystic
Spring Plateau. The Grand Canyon of the Colorado]
Major Powell has shown how this mighty work of mountain cutting was
accomplished; the sawing process was begun, not at the base of the
range, but at its top. It is merely a question of age. The Colorado and
its chief tributaries are older than the mountain uplifts which they
have severed. Moreover, the level of their channels is much the same now
as it was before the mountains were born.
The mountain levels, however, have been changing ever since their uplift
began. And when the rock layers of which they are composed began to be
pushed upward the uplift was so slow that the rivers cut downward just
as rapidly. In time the ranges were pushed upward to their present
height; but when the uplift was completed, in each case it was sawed to
the bottom by the river. It is in very much the same manner that a huge
log is cut in twain as it is pushed against the saw. The mountain range,
as it is pushed upward, represents the log; the river, which is
stationary, represents the saw.
One might look a long way to find the wealth created by this muddy
torrent. But the wealth is there, though it is certainly a long way from
the canyon; moreover, the rock waste itself is the wealth, and great
wealth it is. The water of the river is very muddy. Dip up a bucket
filled to the brim and allow it to stand for ten or twelve hours. There
is an inch or two of clear water at the top, while at the bottom there
is a thick, muddy paste of sand, clay, and red earth. All this rock
waste the current is sweeping along to the Gulf of California.
Every overflow along the banks of its lower course spreads this rich,
nutritious rock waste over the flood plain. Imperial Valley is filled
with it; and this, together with the flood plain above and below,
constitutes an area of productive land about as large as the State of
Illinois. Moreover, the area is constantly increasing, because of the
enormous amount of rock waste which the river daily bears to the Gulf
of California. In time, a long time as years are measured, the gulf will
be entirely filled--and what a valley of prairie land there will be.