Point Sublime. Point Sublime is one of the most important promontories on
the north rim. It was here that the geologist-poet, Clarence Dutton, wrote
many of his descriptions of Canyon scenery. He says: "The supreme views are
to be obtained at the extremities of the long promontories, which jut out
between the recesses far into the gulf. Sitting upon the edge we
contemplate the most sublime and awe-inspiring spectacle in the world. The
length of canyon revealed clearly and in detail at Point Sublime is about
twenty-five miles in each direction. Towards the northwest the vista
terminates behind the projecting mass of Powell's Plateau. But again to the
westward may be seen the crests of the upper walls reaching through the
Kanab and Uinkaret Plateaus, and finally disappearing in the haze above
Seventy-five miles away.
"The space under immediate view from our standpoint, fifty miles long and
ten to twelve wide, is thronged with a great multitude of objects so vast
in size, so bold and majestic in form, so infinite in their details, that
as the truth gradually reveals itself to the perceptions, it arouses the
strongest emotions."
Several times I had started to Point Sublime, but there were difficulties
about the trail. Sometime before 1900, Mr. Bass completed a trail on the
north side of the river, up under the shoulders of Powell Plateau and out
to the desired location.
Starting for Point Sublime. In August, 1901, a party was arranged,
consisting of Mrs. J. B. Gayler, of Ridgewood, New Jersey, a learned doctor
from St. Louis, Mr. Bass and myself. On Sunday, September 1st, after
loading three pack animals with provisions and bedding needed for the trip,
we set out down the trail, headed for Point Sublime. To the ferry nothing
of particular interest occurred.
From this point on I shall use the diary of Mrs. Gayler as the basis of my
descriptions, adding thereto or condensing when necessary. It is written in
the present tense, which will be preserved throughout.
At the River. She says: "The sight of the river rouses me to a considerable
pitch of enthusiasm. How dirty and muddy a river it is, and how it roars
and rages. There is a great rapid a quarter of a mile above where we cross.
While we are to cross in still water, the current is strong and bears one
on to the worst rapid in the whole river. It is named Stanton Rapid, for at
that point one of his boats was dashed to splinters. He numbered it No.
241.
"We part with our animals near a little shelter at the top of the Archaean
rocks and scramble down a slippery trail.
Crossing the River. "With some trepidation I enter the boat; a few articles
are thrown in, Dad takes the oars, some one pushes us off and we are fairly
on the stream. The boat soon strikes the sandy landing on the other side, a
considerable distance below, and Dad hands me out with care and courtesy. I
occupy myself looking at the structure of the rocks. There are many curious
faults and flexures. The river very strange; walls black, gloomy and
precipitous. The landing on the south side was solid rock, here a bit of
sandy beach between bars of rock. The Doctor is already here. He makes a
fire of driftwood near the wall of black rock under which is the stretch of
sand. I pick out my sleeping place and begin the making of my bed.
"James, Bass and Dad go back and forth across the river many times to bring
our stuff, and daylight is entirely gone long before the job is completed.
Supper on the Sand. "I try to help in carrying things up the bank but am
too tired to be of much use. Gather wood for fire. The men had prepared
supper by firelight, which we take crouching, sitting or lying down on the
sand. The air is mild and soft.
Moonlight. "Monday, Sept. 2, 1901. 3 A.M. Writing by moonlight. The roar of
the rapids is constant. One hears it even in sleep. There are occasionally
little swirling, flapping noises. What a wonderful place for me--a quiet,
New Jersey woman--to be sleeping in.
To the Shinumo. "When Mr. Bass awakes he shows me a large pool of river
water in the rocks. It has settled and is clear and cold. After breakfast,
the doctor and I scramble up the rocky trail to the plateau above, mount
two of the burros and start for the Shinumo Camp. It is 6:30 when we
start--quite early I should call it--and we reach camp at 8.00 A. M. A
stiff climb nearly all the way.
"What a clear mountain torrent the Shinumo is. It is like our Eastern
creeks. Its rocky sides are lined with willows or other green trees and it
comes splashing and dashing down as pure and sweet as can be.
Shinumo Camp and Garden. "The camp is a novelty to me. Part tent, part
wood, part rock,--part indoors, part outdoors. The fireplace is of stone
and out of doors, and the table is a great slab of red sandstone resting on
two heavy rock supports. It would hold a ton. There are two good beds.
Across the stream a little way down is the Shinumo garden. It seems
incredible that there can be a garden here with excellent melons,
cantaloupes, radishes, onions, corn, squash, beans, and with fair-sized
peach and other trees. They tell me it is a prehistoric garden and that it
was discovered by following the ruins of ancient irrigating ditches down to
the spot. In the wall beyond are several small cliff-dwellings and storage
houses for corn and other vegetables. There are tremendous tilts and
flexures in the rock walls on each side.
"Mr. Bass and Dad go off to hunt for the horses and mules we are to use on
the trip. The burros will not travel fast enough, though they are going to
put me on a large burro they name Belshazzar.
"After lunch each spends the afternoon as he chooses. Mr. James invites me
to come and visit a snuggery that he has established, where I find him
writing. He reads what he has written, also part of Browning's 'Rabbi Ben
Ezra.'
"Tuesday, Sept. 3, 1901. At and preparing to leave Shinumo. The magnitude
of the undertaking appalls me. It is so much more tremendous than I
anticipated.
The Start. "The saddling and packing of the animals occupies much time. We
start about nine o'clock with nine animals, six burros, two horses and one
mule. My Belshazzar is slow but very sure. Mr. James rides the mule, a red
creature, very nervous and excitable and which they tell me is not well
broken and does not like to be ridden.
Ascending the Trail. "We go up a long trail over a ridge, with loose soil,
quite barren. The ascent is not very steep but the hillside across which
the trail passes slopes down to canyons and precipices which suggest
unfathomable depths. At one place the trail, for about fifty feet, is over
ashes or some exceedingly loose material that allows the animals to slide
very quickly down towards the deep precipice on the right and the sight is
most trying to my nerves, but Belshazzar's deliberate walk and
sure-footedness soon restore my usual equanimity.
"From this we pass into a canyon or series of canyons where one can plainly
see that in the remote past a torrent has poured down, tearing away the
soil and tossing huge boulders about. Many naked rocky ledges show, and my
burro is occasionally required to carry me up stone steps.
Muav Canyon. "Presently we enter a narrow canyon through which flows a
clear, cool stream. Walls of red rock on both sides with, much gray stone.
Many large sycamores, cottonwoods and alders, grass and flowers, with
maidenhair ferns on the rocks. We stop for lunch under a big cottonwood
tree. About four thousand five hundred feet elevation. We leave this lovely
spot and go up the canyon which makes a sharp turn to the left. This is
Muav Canyon.
Climbing Higher. "After a little distance we emerge from this canyon and
leave the stream. Then begins a tremendous climb which I accomplish by
clinging to the coat tails of the guide with one hand and sometimes with
both hands, he holding tight to the burro's tail ahead of him. Belshazzar
accepts this--to me--novel situation with accustomed cheerfulness and does
his best to haul us up the mountain, stopping occasionally to recover his
breath. Finishing this part of the ascent, we come to a fertile plateau
with trees in great number and variety. At an angle of the canyon below,
nearly opposite the steep trail up which we have just climbed, is the
eroded terminus of a great promontory, carved into a high and slender
pedestal upon which stands a rude figure not unlike one of the wooden
statues seen in the old Franciscan missions of California. Below this the
rock strata are curved and twisted into all kinds of shapes. In one place
there is a fold where the strata seem to have been curved and forced almost
into a circle.
"On this plateau we still see the canyon with its perpendicular gray stone
walls. It falls below our trail and we ride along the brink of it and down
in the bottom see the black entrance to a cave. Then we come to the dry bed
of a stream which we follow until we come to water. The quantity is small
but it is sweet and pure. We camp here; elevation six thousand one hundred
feet.
"The canyon walls are steep and the bottom narrow. We are in a heap
together,--rolls of bedding, camp-fire, burros, horses, mules, men, kyacks
containing food, saddles and packs, myself, etc., all in a very small
space.
The Charm of the North Side. "The north side of the canyon is much more
beautiful and diversified than the other, and no one can really know the
canyon who does not cross and climb to the summit on this side. There is a
greater variety of fine views, a good proportion of fertile country and a
far better opportunity for studying the geological formation.
"Wednesday, Sept. 4, 1901. We have had a very cold night and though my bed
was most comfortable I awake feeling rather miserable. My courage almost
fails and I talk of giving up, but after awhile feel better and decide to
go on.
"A discussion goes on as to the time we shall spend on the trip and the
determination is finally reached that, if possible, we shall return to this
spot from Point Sublime in four days.
"The little stream, which failed in the night, now runs freely, the result
of condensation of moisture in the atmosphere above. We start again and
ascend a steep, loose trail in the manner of yesterday. The trail is very
pleasant here, springs of excellent water coming out from under the
cross-bedded sandstone and trees of considerable size shadowing the way.
The Saddle. "At the Saddle there is a long pause for repacking the burros.
I am started up the next and last steep climb on my burro. After a little
the trail becomes very steep and dangerous looking and I am ordered to
dismount and finish the climb on my feet with the aid of Belshazzar's tail.
He is in a hurry and sometimes very unceremonious with me.
On the Kaibab. "We are now on the top of the north side,--really on the
summit of the Kaibab Plateau. Dutton Point, the great salient promontory of
Powell Plateau, seen so clearly from Bass Camp on the south rim, is close
before me, and views and vistas in every direction are glorious and
sublime. We ride on to Swamp Point. The views are magnificent, but who
shall attempt to describe them? We soon enter a pine forest. Tall pine
trees and Douglas spruces are the principal trees, with many beautiful
groups of white aspen. Rich grass and wild oats and great quantities of
beautiful flowers. We see many deer. We stop for lunch and some
photographing is done.
Kanab Unats. "After lunch we start for Kanab Unats and pass through many
grassy valleys leading into one another with many windings. We have some
difficulty in keeping the right trail. Mr. Bass has an excellent general
knowledge of the right direction but he has had to wander to and fro in his
desire to find water and dare not leave us, so we have to accompany him in
his searches. The result is we cannot reach Kanab Unats to-night. We go up
one very picturesque part of the trail where a deep gulch lies on the right
filled with old pine trees and many fallen ones, a true specimen of the
primeval forest. We see a small band of cattle grazing. After luncheon I
attempt to walk alone in the forest and immediately lose my sense of
direction. After some yelling on my part the men come to my rescue. We
start on again, the doctor putting the saddle on Belshazzar for me. When I
dismount, the result of unskilled effort appears, for, as soon as I throw
my weight over to the left, the saddle turns and I am dumped upon the
ground. We camp at an altitude of eight thousand feet; short of water.
Short of Water. "Thursday, Sept. 5, 1901. Near Kanab Unats. 6 A. M. Very
cold. Breakfast is prepared. I am allowed two tablespoonfuls of water for
toilet purposes. I help a little with the cooking. We are to a thick wood.
It is a fine, clear, sunny day, but a chilling wind is blowing.
Off for Water. "We make a late start, and go on to Kanab Unats where we
expect to find water. We arrive there about ten. Soon afterwards three
cattlemen come by. A conference with them is held. They talk doubtfully
about water, but tell where they think it may be found. They are much
surprised to hear that I have crossed the Canyon. With their consent I
kodak them. After they depart Mr. Bass and Mr. James start off for water,
Mr. Bass with one horse and all the canteens to a spring he knows of where
fine water is to be had, and Mr. James with all the animals to a place
where water fit for stock may be found. They both return in about two
hours, pack the animals, and we start again about 3:20 P.M. for Point
Sublime. We go through several grassy, well-wooded ravines, very nearly on
a level, through much fallen timber and thickets. Then we cross several of
them. I scramble down off Belshazzar and down a very steep hill. Mount
again and go on by myself, zigzagging up a steep hill. This is mostly
through an oak thicket without a trail. Over another ravine and I am sure
now we are near the end of our journey. Up another slight ascent and we
come in sight of the Canyon. We have left the tall trees and the thick
grass, and now have only mesquites, cedars, yucca and cactus. But we have a
good trail.
On Point Sublime. "At last we are on the Point itself. So ardently desired,
and with only an hour of daylight left, we begin to study the wonderful
panorama. I am photographed rounding up the burros. I am given a sheltered
place under a juniper tree for my bed, and make an arrangement with my
canvas to keep off the wind. A very comfortable bed. This Point runs out
far into the chasm, is narrow for a considerable distance, sides very
precipitous and the edges describing a very irregular line. Very near the
extreme end is a clump of cedars, with trunks and lower branches so densely
matted together as to form a good shelter on two sides from the wind (which
blows furiously). It is in this shelter that I place my bed, making with my
canvas a protection against the wind on the third side so that my sleeping
place is as cozy and warm as can be.
"Friday, Sept. 6, 1901. At Point Sublime. I sleep well and wake refreshed.
Many photographs are taken. The men go to explore another point not far off
and I stay in camp. I rest as well as I can in the face of such a
stupendous spectacle. Dutton's descriptions are wonderfully vivid and
accurate--yet words, do not convey ideas to those whose imagination is not
large enough to realize the full meaning of the words.
On the Return. "We start on the return at eleven o'clock having spent about
seventeen hours on the Point. At first we follow the trail by which we
came. Then our leader disregards the trail and makes our course in a more
direct line. We go over ridges, some of them terribly steep. We go through
several lovely valleys with the ridges that overlook the canyon on our
left. The air is still and cool down where we are, but we can see the tops
of the trees that show above the ridges tossed about in a violent wind and
can hear its roaring through the forest. We camp about three-quarters of a
mile from a spring, and by orders I sleep under a tree in company with many
beetles. It is very cold. Camp-fire is comforting.
Into the Canyon Again. "Saturday, Sept. 7, 1901. We leave camp at 8:20. I
put out fire while men are packing. Find track of small five-toed animal on
the trail. We go by cattle-trails a short cut to Swamp Point through the
forest, over ridges, through thickets and some of the grassy valleys. Out
on Swamp Point again I am shown Bass Camp on the south rim. It is scarcely
discernible even with glasses, the distance is so vast. We all walk down
the steep descent from this Point and make quick time to the place where we
camped Sept. 3. We descend one thousand nine hundred feet in one hour and
twenty minutes. After lunch, the men then cache much of the remaining
provisions and cooking outfit for future use, and we go on riding as fast
as possible down the dry bed of the stream. Then out of this, through a
narrow canyon, past the gray-rock walls and gulch with black cave at bottom
and slide in the talus above, over the fertile plateau, long descent on
foot, where as I zigzag I see the men and the burros what seem to be
hundreds of feet below.
"On down another dry stream bed, many stony descents in a shut-in canyon.
Out of this into more open country, but over ridges, up and down. We come
down to that part of the trail which I feared most in daylight and now we
have only the starlight to enable us to descend. Mr. Bass takes me in
charge and Mr. James goes up over the ridges to round up the burros which
have been left to their own devices. A torch of sage-brush is lighted to
find the trail. At last we reach the bottom. The men throw some blankets on
the ground for me and I fall upon them. They go down to the Shinumo, which
is only a few yards away, prepare supper and bring a cup of hot coffee for
me. I return with them, make my bed, eat a hearty supper and then fall
asleep with the roar of the Shinumo in my ears. My bed is comfortable and I
have a feeling of perfect safety and confidence.
Watermelons in the Canyon. "Sunday, Sept. 8, 1901. We are on the Shinumo,
and only half an hour's ride above the camp. What a beautiful stream it is;
cataracts, still reaches, rapids, sandy shoals, deep pools, and the water
so pure, blue and clear. We cross and re-cross many times, through thickets
of willow and mesquite. I am many times scratched and my hat is forcibly
snatched from my head. At camp I feed watermelon rinds to Belshazzar who
receives them as gratefully as I did the melons. How strange to find them
growing here,--so ripe, rich and delicious. I feel very weary but deeply
regret having to leave this lovely place. We start for the river. When the
others arrive the packs, etc., are taken across in three loads. The four of
us go over in the last load. Scramble up the Archaean by myself and sit in
the shade, near the shelter tent, until I am put on the burro Joe and
started off with the doctor.
Back at Bass Camp. "Dad had brought the burros here to receive us, all the
animals we had ridden to Point Sublime having been left on the north side.
At Bed Rock Camp we all have
lunch; and then at 4:00, the others with the burros having gone on
ahead, we follow. I remain on my burro all the way up, save at three
places, where Mr. James deems it best for me to dismount. At last, we make
the final ascent, I see the tent above my head, then the roof of the house
at Bass Camp, and in another moment or two the most memorable and wonderful
trip of my life is over."