CANON ECHOES
The Colorado Plateau, in northern Arizona, is the union of the Rocky
and Sierra Nevada mountains in their southward trend, and forms the
southern rim of the Great Basin. This depression was once a vast
inland sea, of which nothing remains but the Salt Lake of Utah, and is
drained by the Colorado river. The entire plateau region is remarkable
for its grand scenery--abysmal chasms, sculptured buttes and towering
cliffs, which are "brightly colored as if painted by artist Gods, not
stained and daubed by inharmonious hues but beautiful as flowers and
gorgeous as the clouds." The plateau is an immense woodland of pines
known as the Coconino Forest.
The San Francisco mountains, nearly thirteen thousand feet high, stand
in the middle of the plateau which is, also, the center of an extensive
extinct volcanic field. The whole country is covered with cinders
which were thrown from active volcanoes centuries ago. The track of
the Santa Fe Pacific railroad, clear across Arizona, is ballasted with
cinders instead of gravel that were dug from pits on its own right of
way.
Near the southern base of the San Francisco mountains is the town of
Flagstaff built in a natural forest of pine trees. It is sometimes
called the Skylight City because of its high altitude, rarefied
atmosphere and brilliant sky. It is said to have been named by a
company of soldiers who camped on the spot while out hunting Indians,
when the country was new. It happened to be on the Fourth of July and
they celebrated the day by unfurling Old Glory from the top of a pine
tree, which was stripped of its branches and converted into a
flagstaff. Here is located the Lowell Observatory, which has made many
valuable discoveries in astronomy. It is a delightful spot and offers
many attractions to the scientist, tourist and health seeker.
One of the many interesting objects of this locality is the Ice Cave
situated eight miles southwest of the town. It not only attracts the
curious, but its congealed stores are also drawn on by the people who
live in the vicinity when the domestic ice supply runs short. The cave
is entered from the side of a ravine and its opening is arched by lava
rock. How the ice ever got there is a mystery unless it is, as Mr.
Volz claims, glacial ice that was covered and preserved by a thick coat
of cinders which fell when the San Francisco Peaks were in active
eruption. As far as observed the ice never becomes more nor ever gets
less, except what is removed by mining.
The region is unusually attractive to the naturalist. It is the best
field for the study of entomology that is known. But all nature riots
here. Dr. C. Hart Merriam, in his report of a biological survey of the
San Francisco mountains and Painted Desert, states that there are seven
distinct life zones in a radius of twenty-five miles running the entire
gamut from the Arctic to the Tropic.[1] The variety of life which he
found and describes cannot be duplicated in the same space anywhere
else upon the globe.
But the greatest natural wonder of this region and, it is claimed by
competent judges of the whole world, is the Grand Canon of Arizona,
which is seventy-two miles north of Flagstaff. Thurber's stage line,
when it was running, carried passengers through in one day, but after
the railroad was built from Williams to Bright Angel the stage was
abandoned. However it is an interesting trip and many people make it
every summer by private conveyance who go for an outing and can travel
leisurely. It is a good natural road and runs nearly the entire
distance through an open pine forest.
Two roads leave Flagstaff for the Canon called respectively the summer
and winter roads. The former goes west of the San Francisco mountains
and intersects with the winter road that runs east of the peaks at
Cedar Ranch, which was the midway station of the old stage line. The
summer road is the one usually travelled, as the winter road is almost
destitute of water.
The road ascends rapidly from an elevation of seven thousand feet at
Flagstaff to eleven thousand feet at the summit, and descends more
gradually to Cedar Ranch, where the elevation is less than five
thousand feet and in distance is about halfway to the Canon. Here
cedar and pinon trees take the place of the taller pines. Cedar Ranch
is on an arm of the Painted Desert, which stretches away towards the
east over a wide level plain to the horizon. From this point the road
ascends again on an easy grade until it reaches an elevation of eight
thousand feet at the Canon.
During the long drive through the pine woods the appearance of the
country gives no hint of a desert, but beautiful scenery greets the eye
on every hand. The air is filled with the fragrance of pine and ozone
that is as exhilarating as wine. No signs of severe windstorms are
seen in broken branches and fallen trees. If an occasional tree is
found lying prostrate it was felled either by the woodman's ax or one
of nature's destructive forces, fire or decay, or both. But the large
number of shattered trees which are encountered during the day give
evidence that the lightning is frequently very destructive in its work.
The bark of the pine trees is of a reddish gray color, which contrasts
brightly with the green foliage.
The winter road furnishes even more attractions than the summer road on
which line a railroad should be built through to the Canon. Soon after
leaving town a side road leads to the cliff dwellings in Walnut Canon.
Along the wayside a signboard points the direction to the Bottomless
Pit, which is a deep hole in the ground that is only one of many such
fissures in the earth found on the Colorado Plateau. Four miles east
of Canon Diablo a narrow fissure from a few inches to several feet
wide and hundreds of feet deep has been traced in a continuous line
over one hundred miles.
Further on a group of cave dwellings can be seen among the rocks upon a
distant bill. A turn in the road next brings the Sunset Mountain into
view. Its crest glows with the colors of sunset, which unusual effect
is produced by colored rocks that are of volcanic origin. Black
cinders cover its steep sides and its brow is the rim of a deep crater.
Between Sunset Peak and O'Leary Peak is the Black Crater from which
flowed at one time thick streams of black lava that hardened into rock
and are known as the lava beds. Scores of crater cones and miles of
black cinders can be seen from Sunset Mountain, and lava and cinders of
this region look as fresh as if an eruption had occurred but yesterday.
A peculiarity of the pine trees which grow in the cinders is that their
roots do not go down but spread out upon the surface. Some of the
roots are entirely bare while others are half buried in cinders. They
are from an inch to a foot thick and from ten to fifty feet long,
according to the size of the tree which they support. The cause of the
queer root formation is not apparent.
The whole plateau country is scarce of water. The Grand Canon drains
the ground dry to an unusual depth. The nearest spring of water to the
Canon at Grand View is Cedar Spring, forty miles distant. Until
recently all the water used at the canon was either packed upon burros
from springs down in the canon or caught in ponds or reservoirs from
rains or melted snow. Since the completion of the railroad the water
is hauled in on cars constructed for that purpose.
The watershed of the canon slopes away from the rim and instead of the
storm water running directly into the river it flows in the opposite
direction. Only after a long detour of many miles does it finally
reach the river by the Little Colorado or Cataract Creek.
Now that the Grand Canon is made accessible by rail over a branch road
of the Santa Fe from Williams on the main line, it is reached in
comparative ease and comfort. But to stop at the Bright Angel Hotel
and look over the guard rail on the cliff down into the canon gives
merely a glimpse of what there is to see. A brief stay of one day is
better than not stopping at all, but to get even an inkling of its
greatness and grandeur days and weeks must be spent in making trips up
and down and into the canon.
After having seen the canon at Bright Angel the next move should be to
go to Grand View fourteen miles up the canon. An all day's stage ride
from Flagstaff to the canon was tiresome, but the two hours' drive
through the pine woods from Bright Angel to Grand View is only pleasant
recreation.
Seeing the Grand Canon for the first time does not necessarily produce
the startling and lachrymose effects that have been described by some
emotional writers, but the first sight never disappoints and always
leaves a deep and lasting impression.
As immense as is the great chasm it is formed in such harmonious
proportions that it does not shock the senses. But as everything about
the canon is built on such a grand scale and the eyes not being
accustomed to such sights it is impossible to comprehend it--to measure
its dimensions correctly or note every detail of form and color at the
first glance. As the guide remarked, "God made it so d-- big that you
can't lie about it."
To comprehend it at all requires time to re-educate the senses and make
them accustomed to the new order of things. But even a cursory view
will always remain in the memory as the event of a lifetime in the
experience of the average mortal.
Distance in the canon cannot be measured by the usual standards. There
are sheer walls of rocks that are thousands of feet high and as many
more feet deep, but where the bottom seems to be is only the beginning
of other chasms which lie in the dark shadows and descend into yet
deeper depths below. The canon is not a single empty chasm, which is
the universal conception of a canon, but consists of a complex system
of sub and side canons that is bewildering. Out of its depths rise an
infinite number and variety of castellated cliffs and sculptured buttes
that represent every conceivable variety of architecture. They have
the appearance of a resurrected city of great size and beauty which
might have been built by an army of Titans then buried and forgotten.
A trip into the canon down one of the trails makes its magnitude even
more impressive than a rim view. The distance across the chasm is also
much greater than what it seems to be, which is demonstrated by the
blue haze that fills the canon. The nearby buttes are perfectly
distinct, but as the distance increases across the great gorge the haze
gradually thickens until the opposite wall is almost obscured by the
mist.
The myriads of horizontal lines which mark the different strata of
rocks have the appearance of a maze of telegraph wires strung through
the canon.
A ride leisurely on horseback along the rim trail from Thurber's old
camp to Bissell's Point, seven miles up the canon, and back is easily
made in a day. It presents a panorama of magnificent views all along
the rim, but Bissell's is conceded to be the best view point on the
canon. From this point about thirty miles of river can be seen as it
winds in and out deep down among the rocks. The Colorado river is a
large stream, but as seen here a mile below and several miles out, it
dwindles into insignificance and appears no larger than a meadow brook.
The river looks placid in the distance, but is a raging, turbulent
torrent in which an ordinary boat cannot live and the roar of its wild
waters can be distinctly heard as of the rushing of a distant train of
cars.
A second day spent in riding down the canon to Grand View Point and
back is equally delightful. Looking across a bend in the canon from
Grand View Point to Bissell's Point the distance seems to be scarcely
more than a stone's throw, yet it is fully half the distance of the
circuitous route by the rim trail.
There are three trails leading into the canon and down to the river,
the Bright Angel, Grand View and Hance trails, which are at intervals
of eight and twelve miles apart. They are equally interesting and
comparatively safe if the trip is made on the back of a trained pony or
burro with a competent guide.
The Hance trail is a loop and is twenty miles long. It is seven miles
down to the river, six miles up the stream and seven miles back to the
rim. It was built single handed by Captain John Hance, who has lived
many years in the canon. The trail is free to pedestrians, but yields
the captain a snug income from horse hire and his own services as guide
for tourists who go over the trail.
Captain Hance is an entertaining raconteur and he spins many
interesting yarns for the amusement, if not the edification, of his
guests. The serious manner in which he relates his stories makes it
sometimes hard to tell whether he is in jest or earnest. His
acknowledged skill in mountaineering, and felicity in romancing has won
for him more than a local reputation and the distinguished title of
Grand Canon Guide and Prevaricator.
He relates how "once upon a time" he pursued a band of mountain sheep
on the rim of the canon. Just as he was about to secure his quarry the
sheep suddenly turned a short corner and disappeared behind some rocks.
Before he realized his danger he found himself on the brink of a
yawning abyss and under such a momentum that he could not turn aside or
stop his horse. Together they went over the cliff in an awful leap.
He expected to meet instant death on the rocks below and braced himself
for the shock. As the fall was greater than usual, being over a mile
deep in a perpendicular line, it required several seconds for the
descending bodies to traverse the intervening space, which gave him a
few moments to think and plan some way of escape. At the critical
moment a happy inspiration seized and saved him. On the instant that
his horse struck the rock and was dashed to pieces, the captain sprang
nimbly from the saddle to his feet unharmed. To prove the truth of his
statement he never misses an opportunity to point out to the tourist
the spot where his horse fell, and shows the white bones of his defunct
steed bleaching in the sun.
At Moran's Point there is a narrow cleft in the rocks which he calls
the Fat Woman's Misery. It received its name several years ago from a
circumstance that happened while he was conducting a party of tourists
along the rim trail. To obtain a better view the party essayed to
squeeze through the opening, in which attempt all succeeded except one
fat women who stuck fast. After vainly trying to extricate her from
her uncomfortable position he finally told her that there was but one
of two things to do, either remain where she was and starve to death or
take one chance in a thousand of being blown out alive by dynamite.
After thinking a moment she decided to try the "one chance in a
thousand" experiment.
A charge of dynamite was procured and the fuse lighted. After the
explosion he returned to the spot and found the result satisfactory.
The blast had released the woman, who was alive and sitting upon a
rock. He approached her cheerfully and said:
"Madam, how do you feel?" She looked up shocked, but evidently very
much relieved, and replied "Why, sir, I feel first rate, but the jolt
gave me a little toothache."
He tells another story of how he once took a drink from the Colorado
river. The water is never very clear in the muddy stream but at that
particular time it was unusually murky. He had nothing with which to
dip the water and lay down on the bank to take a drink. Being very
thirsty he paid no attention to the quality of the water, but only knew
that it tasted wet. The water, however, grew thicker as he drank until
it became balled up in his mouth, and stuck fast in his throat and
threatened to choke him. He tried to bite it off but failed because
his teeth were poor. At last becoming desperate, he pulled his hunting
knife from his belt and cut himself loose from his drink.
Different theories have been advanced to account for the origin of the
Grand Canon, but it is a question whether it is altogether due to any
one cause. Scientists say that it is the work of water erosion, but to
the layman it seems impossible. If an ocean of water should flow over
rocks during eons of ages it does not seem possible that it could cut
such a channel.
Water sometimes does queer things, but it has never been known to
reverse nature. By a fundamental law of hydrostatics water always
seeks its level and flows in the direction of least resistance. If
water ever made the Grand Canon it had to climb a hill and cut its way
through the backbone of the Buckskin mountains, which are not a range
of peaks but a broad plateau of solid rock. Into this rock the canon
is sunk more than a mile deep, from six to eighteen miles wide and over
two hundred miles long.
In order to make the theory of water erosion tenable it is assumed that
the Colorado river started in its incipiency like any other river.
After a time the river bed began to rise and was gradually pushed up
more and more by some unknown subterranean force as the water cut
deeper and deeper into the rock until the Grand Canon was formed.
Captain Hance has a theory that the canon originated in an underground
stream which tunneled until it cut its way through to the surface. As
improbable as is this theory it is as plausible as the erosion theory,
but both theories appear to be equally absurd.
At some remote period of time the entire southwest was rent and torn by
an awful cataclysm which caused numerous fissures and seams to appear
all over the country. The force that did the work had its origin in
the earth and acted by producing lateral displacement rather than
direct upheaval. Whenever that event occurred the fracture which marks
the course of the Grand Canon was made and, breaking through the
enclosing wall of the Great Basin, set free the waters of an inland
sea. What the seismic force began the flood of liberated water helped
to finish, and there was born the greatest natural wonder of the known
world.
There are canons all over Arizona and the southwest that resemble the
Grand Canon, except that they were made on a smaller scale. Many of
them are perfectly dry and apparently never contained any running
water. They are all so much alike that they were evidently made at the
same time and by the same cause. Walnut Canon and Canon Diablo are
familiar examples of canon formation.
The rocks in the canons do not stand on end, but lie in horizontal
strata and show but little dip anywhere. Indeed, the rocks lie so
plumb in many places that they resemble the most perfect masonry.
The rim rock of the Mogollon Mesa is of the same character as the walls
of the Grand Canon and is an important part of the canon system. It is
almost a perpendicular cliff from one to three thousand feet high which
extends from east to west across central Arizona and divides the great
northern plateau from the southern valleys. It is one side of an
immense vault or canon wall whose mate has been lost or dropped
completely out of sight.
In many of the canons where water flows continuously, effects are
produced that are exactly the opposite of those ascribed to water
erosion. Instead of the running water cutting deeper into the earth it
has partly filled the canon with alluvium, thereby demonstrating
nature's universal leveling process. Even the floods of water which
pour through them during every rainy season with an almost irresistible
force carry in more soil than they wash out and every freshet only adds
new soil to the old deposits. If these canons were all originally made
by water erosion as is claimed, why does not the water continue to act
in the same manner now but, instead, completely reverses itself as
above stated? There can be but one of two conclusions, either that
nature has changed or that scientists are mistaken.
The Aravaipa in southern Arizona is an interesting canon and is typical
of its kind. Its upper half is shallow and bounded by low rolling
foothills, but in the middle it suddenly deepens and narrows into a box
canon, which has high perpendicular walls of solid rock like the Grand
Canon. It is a long, narrow valley sunk deep into the earth and has
great fertility and much wild beauty. It measures from a few feet to a
mile in width and drains a large scope of rough country. The surface
water which filters through from above reappears in numerous springs of
clear cold water in the bottom of the canon. In the moist earth and
under the shade of forest trees grow a variety of rare flowers, ferns
and mosses.
Where the canon begins to box a large spring of pure cold water issues
from the sand in the bottom of a wash which is the source of the
Aravaipa creek. It flows through many miles of rich alluvial land and
empties into the San Predo river. The valley was settled many years
ago by men who were attracted to the spot by its rare beauty, fertility
of soil and an abundance of wood and water.
The land is moist and covered by a heavy growth of forest trees, which
will average over one hundred feet high. The trees are as large and
the foliage as dense as in any eastern forest. Being sunk deep in the
earth the narrow valley at the bottom of the canon can only be seen
from above. When viewed from some favorable point it has the
appearance of a long green ribbon stretched loosely over a brown
landscape. The sight of it is a pleasant surprise to the weary
wayfarer who, after traveling over many miles of dreary desert road,
finds himself suddenly ushered into such pleasant scenes.
The canons of Arizona are unrivaled for grandeur, sublimity and beauty,
and will attract an ever increasing number of admirers.
[1] Results of a Biological Survey of the San Francisco Mountain Region
and Painted Desert of the Little Colorado, Arizona. 1890.