| the same Clyde
Kluckhohn who had pioneered to the top of Wild Horse mesa! We were not long in reaching Flagstaff, Arizona, and from there we headed north on the Salt Lake City road, through Cameron on the Little Colorado, turned off to Tuba City, thence past Tonalea through the Navajo national monuments where stand the famous cliff dwellings of Inscription House and Betatakin, and finally to the Dunn's Trading Post right at the foot of the eastern slopes of Navajo mountain. Here we outfitted with Indian ponies and by noon the next day were actually on the trail to the Rainbow Bridge. |
the Rainbow Bridge-Nonne-zoche Not-se-lid, the incomparable Arch of
Nature! Because of the height of the surrounding cliffs the first impression is not of its great size, but rather of the graceful curves of its arch. Yet as you finally stand beneath it, the tremendous height immediately becomes apparent. From the floor of the canyon to its magnificent crest is close to 400 feet! The time required for the infinite artistry of Nature to carve such a work is almost inconceivable! Although a road has been opened during the past few years to the Rainbow Lodge, within 12 miles of the Bridge, it is hoped that it will never be brought any nearer. The idea of hot-dog stands beneath that majestic arch, and "O'Leary's Garage" painted across the lovely pastel shades of its rock face, is repugnant. For after all, it is the isolation, the difficulties of reaching it, together with the final glorious reward for hardships endured, that in part make it so appealing Two days later found us again at the Dunn's Trading Post. There we held a discussion about plans. Our vacation time was growing short; duties at home could not be ignored too
|
|
Rich In Indian Legend |
||
Among great boulders and into deep ravines the trail skirted the southern slopes of Navajo mountain. This massive landmark rising abruptly from a fairly level plain to a height of 10,416 feet is visible for miles around. Nat-sis-an, as the Indians call it, is rich in Navajo legend and is believed by them to be the dwelling place of their god of war, of thunder, and of certain other spirits. A good Navajo fears to venture too far upon its slopes lest the falling night should find him a trespasser in the land of the gods. And I could well imagine the feelings of the Navajos, for Nat-sis-an, standing huge and lonely in a wild country, gave us all a feeling of mystery and a sensation closely akin to fear. How I wanted to explore its vast timbered slopes, and stand upon its broad summit; to look out over the great expanse to the north and west-Wild Horse mesa and the Escalante desert! Three hours of rough going among turreted rock formations, out of one deep ravine into another, brought us at last to the crest of a mighty divide. Breathless we stopped to gaze upon a vast panorama. Down beneath us wound the thread-like trail into a deep canyon far below. Tremendous red cliffs rose to awe-inspiring heights above the rocky defile that was the streambed 2,000 feet below. Far off to the right we caught a fleeting glimpse of Wild Horse mesa-that mysterious table-land we had heard so much about. Clothed in deep purple in the late afternoon sun, its wall towered above the surrounding country. So big, so ominous was the scene that none of us spoke as we started the long descent into the deep canyon. I think we were all conscious of that stirring sense of the sheer magnitude and godliness that only the great works of Nature can inspire. There is a saying that no man can come away from the Rainbow Bridge an atheist. That night we camped at the bottom of a mighty gorge. Great red cliffs seemed to close in upon us. I don't recall ever having had the sense of such complete isolation from the rest of the world. I was beginning to realize why this is for the most part the least explored land in the United States. |
||
Tragedy Lurks In Canyons |
||
The region is almost entirely solid rock-great dome-like hills separated by deep canyons whose beds have been cut by centuries of stream erosion. Once in the bottom of one of these canyons there is no seeing out. You must either go up or down stream. An intricate maze of side canyons with little or no water makes this a land in which to be lost means almost inevitable death by thirst or starvation. Such thoughts, however, were not enough to keep us from sleeping soundly; and early the next morning we were again on the trail, refreshed and eager for our first glimpse of the Rainbow Bridge which Clyde insisted was not far ahead. We had all seen pictures of the bridge and had heard much about it. But no amount of words or printed matter can ever describe great natural wonders as they actually exist in their own setting. Thus it is impossible for me to impart to others the emotions that came to me with that first sight of |
||
A U G U S T, 1 9 3 8 |
1 1 |
