Frederick S. Dellenbaugh: The Romance of the Colorado River

The universal dread of the Colorado and its gorges had by this time considerably augmented. The public imagination pictured the roaring flood ploughing its dismal channel through dark subterranean galleries where human life would not be worth a single drop of tossing spray; or leaping at a bound over precipices beside which the seething plunge of Niagara was but a toy. No one could deny these weird tales. No one knew. But Powell was fortified by Science, and he surmised that nowhere would he encounter any obstruction which his ingenuity could not surmount.

Part of a Rapid. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

I remember one morning, on the second voyage, when we had made an early start and the night-gloom still lingered in the depths of Marble Canyon as we bore down on a particularly narrow place where the river turned a sharp bend to disappear between walls vertical at the water, into a deep-blue haze, it seemed to me that anything might be found there, and looking up from my seat in the bow of our boat into the gallant explorer’s face, I said: “Major, what would you have done on the first trip if just beyond that bend you had come upon a fall like Niagara?” He regarded me a moment with his penetrating gaze, and then answered: “I don’t know.” Perhaps he thought that what we now would find there was enough for the moment.

Captain Mansfield, reporting to the Secretary of War, wrote in his letter of December 10, 1867: “Above Callville for several hundred miles the river is entirely unknown.” He recommended Callville as the starting-place for exploration, and a small steamer for the work, with skiffs and canvass boats for continuing beyond the steam-navigation limit; but Captain Rodgers, who had gone with the steamboat Esmeralda up through Black Canyon, thought the great canyon should be entered above Callville after the fall of water in the spring, and his was more nearly a correct idea. The War Department continued, however, to butt against the wrong end, even after the success of the other way had been demonstrated. Some Mormons, who did not know, reported the two hundred miles above Callville to be better than the one hundred below. The two hundred miles above contain some of the most dangerous portions of the river. Colonel Williamson stated in March, 1868, that he could obtain no information of importance with regard to the “Big” canyon except that contained in Dr. Parry’s account of White’s alleged journey, which journey, as I have pointed out, was a myth.

Funds for the proposed expedition were furnished by the State Institutions of Illinois and the Chicago Academy of Science; none by the general Government, so that this was in no way a Government matter, except that Congress passed a joint-resolution authorising him to draw rations for twelve men from western army posts. Early in the spring of 1869, after returning from the rambles along Green River of the previous winter, Powell went to Chicago and engaged a competent builder to construct four strong boats after his suggestions. Three of these were of oak, twenty-one feet long, and one of light pine, sixteen feet long, the latter intended as an advance boat, to be quickly handled in the face of sudden danger. At the bow and stern of each was a water-tight compartment, in which supplies and instruments could be packed, and they would yet give buoyancy to the boats when they would be filled with water by the breaking waves of the rapids. Amidships the boats were open, and here also goods, guns, etc., were stowed away. Each had a long rope, to use in lowering past the most dangerous places. Unlike all the explorations on the lower course of the river, this expedition would require no lines for towing. These four little craft, which were to be the main reliance of the daring men composing the party, were transported free of charge, together with the men who were from the country east of the mountains, to Green River Station, Wyoming, by the courtesy of the officials of the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy, and the Union Pacific railways, who took a deep interest in the proposed descent. The names given to the boats were, for the small one, Emma Dean, the pilot boat (after Mrs. Powell), Kitty Clyde’s Sister, Maid of the Canyon, and No-Name. The members of the party, together with their disposition in the boats at starting, were as follows: John Wesley Powell, John C. Sumner, William H. Dunn—the Emma Dean; Walter H. Powell, G. Y. Bradley—Kitty Clyde’s Sister; O. G. Howland, Seneca Howland, Frank Goodman—the No-Name; William R. Hawkins, Andrew Hall—Maid of the Canyon.

Canyon of Lodore—The Wheatstack. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

Powell, as noted, had been a volunteer officer in the Civil War. After that he was connected with the Wesleyan University at Bloomington, Illinois, and with the Normal University at Normal, in the same state. Sumner, generally known as Jack Sumner, had also been a soldier in the late war. He was fair-haired and delicate-looking, but with a strong constitution. Dunn had been a hunter and trapper. Walter Powell was Major Powell’s youngest brother. He had been in the late war and had there suffered cruelly by capture and imprisonment. Bradley was an orderly sergeant of regulars, had served in the late war, and resigned from the army to join this party. O. G. Howland had been a printer. Seneca Howland was his younger brother. Goodman was a young Englishman. Hawkins had been a soldier in the late war, and Andrew Hall was a Scotch boy nineteen years old.

The spring was chosen for the beginning of the voyage because the Green then is at flood and there would be less trouble about floating the boats through the shoal places and amongst the rocks. The river in some respects is safer at a lower stage of water, but the work is harder. This, however, was not known then, and Powell had to take his chances at the flood. On May 24, 1869, the boats were manned and soon were carried out of sight of the haphazard group of houses which at that time constituted this frontier settlement of Green River. They were heavily laden, for ten months’ rations were carried, as Powell expected when winter came to be obliged to halt and make a permanent camp till spring. He calculated the river might be filled with ice. It has since been ascertained, however, that the Colorado proper rarely has any ice in it. I remember once hearing that a great many years ago it was frozen over in the neighbourhood of Lee’s Ferry, where for a little distance the current is not rapid. Powell was providing for every contingency he could think of, and trouble with ice was a possible one. But even without ice the water in winter is so cold that, as men who make the descent must continually be saturated by the breaking waves and by the necessity of frequently jumping overboard in avoiding rocks, the danger of pneumonia is really greater than that from wreck. They had an abundance of warm clothing for winter, plenty of ammunition, two or three dozen traps, tools of various kinds, nails, screws; etc. In the line of scientific instruments there were two sextants, four chronometers, a number of barometers, thermometers, compasses, etc. With the exception of the Emma Dean, which had on board only instruments and clothing, the boats were loaded in such a way that if one should be lost the expedition would still possess a variety of articles and food.

The first day they met with the usual number of minor accidents, such as a starting expedition of this kind is seldom free from, like breaking an oar, running on a shoal, and so on, but all went very well, and when the evening came an early camp was made, and Powell climbed up and away from the river to survey the situation.

Green River above Flaming Gorge. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

This was the country before him. The Uinta Mountains, stretching their picturesque and mighty barrier across the determined course of the river, produce the first series of superb canyons on the threshold of which Powell and his daring band were now setting foot. On the third day they were at Henry’s Fork, in the neighbourhood of that first camp in this locality made by Ashley in 1825, and of his start in the experiment in canyon running which so nearly terminated his brilliant career. The “Suck,” noted for its danger among the early trappers, was easily passed and Powell makes no mention of it. So far as I can ascertain there were two records kept on this expedition, one by Powell on strips of brown paper, and the other by Jack Sumner on foolscap. The latter, comprised in some six or eight pages, was the more complete, I believe, and is now in Washington. I have not seen it since 1871, when we were in the habit of daily reading its thrilling pages to find out what we might next expect in our descent. If any other diary or journal was kept by the men of this expedition I have not heard of it.

The first rapid is in Horseshoe Canyon, and it was no obstacle, being small and docile, but when they had gone through the next canyon, named Kingfisher, they found themselves at the beginning of a new and closer, deeper gorge, Red Canyon, where the waters first begin to exhibit their grim intention. Here they encountered real rapids, the boats often dashing along at railroad speed, the waves fiercely breaking over them, and bailing becoming an imperative accomplishment. The attempt of a Ute to run through this canyon was described in picturesque terms by one of the tribe. “Rocks, heap, heap, high,” he said; “water go hoowoogh, hoowoogh; water-pony heap buck; water catch um; no see um Injun any more! no see um squaw any more! no see um papoose any more!” and thus begins and ends the only history of native navigation on this upper river I ever heard of.

Red Canyon—Green River. Upper Portion. Looking up Stream. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

After considerable hard work the party reached a particularly sharp, though not very high, fall, announced before arrival by a loud and angry roar. Here a portage was deemed wise, and the goods were carried up over the huge broken rocks and so on down to a point well below the foot of the drop, where the cargoes were again restored to the boats, which meanwhile had been lowered by lines. It was here that the name of Ashley and a year date were found inscribed on a rock. Of this I made a careful copy in 1871, which is given on page 112. The second figure could, of course, be only an 8, and the fourth was plainly a 5. The third, however, was obscure, and Powell was uncertain whether it was a 3 or a 5. It could have been nothing but a 2, because, as we have seen, it was in the twenties of the last century that Ashley operated in this region; and it was in 1825 that he made the Red Canyon journey. At the date which a 3 would make he was a Congressman, and he was never in the Far West again. Running on through Red Canyon with exhilarating velocity, but without any serious drawback, the party came out into the tranquil Brown’s Hole, henceforth called Brown’s Park. At the foot of this, without any preliminaries, they were literally swept into the heart of the mountains, for it is here that the river so suddenly rends the massive formations in twain and speeds away toward the sea between wonderful precipices of red sandstone, churning itself to ivory in the headlong rush. This was named the Canyon of Lodore at the suggestion of one of the men. The work of safely proceeding down the torrent now grew far more difficult. Rapids were numerous and the descent in most of them very great. The boats had to be handled with extra caution. The method of travelling was for Powell to go ahead in the Emma Dean to examine the nature of each rapid before the other boats should come down to it. If he saw a clear chute he ran through and signalled “come on,” but if he thought it too risky he signalled “land,” and the place was examined as well as he was able from the

The Canyon of Lodore—Upper Part of Disaster Falls. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

The Canyon of Brush Creek—Looking Up. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

It required a good deal of work to complete the portage around the double fall so that night again compelled them to camp near its spray, this time on a sand bank at the foot of the lower descent. Here, half buried in the gravel of the beach, some objects were discovered which revealed the fact that some other party had suffered a similar disastrous experience. These were an iron bake-oven, several tin plates, fragments of a boat, and other indications of a wreck at this place long years before. In his report, Powell ascribes this wreck to Ashley, but this is a mistake, for Ashley seems never to have entered this canyon, ending his voyage, as I have previously stated, when he reached Brown’s Park. This wreckage then was from some other and later party. Powell also states that Ashley and one other survivor succeeded in reaching Salt Lake, where they were fed and clothed by the Mormons and employed on the Temple foundation until they had earned enough to enable them to leave the country. These men could not have been Ashley and a companion, for several reasons: one cited above; another that the Mormons had not yet settled at Salt Lake in Ashley’s day; and a third, that Ashley was a wealthy and distinguished man, and would not have required pecuniary help. The disaster recorded by the bake-oven, etc., must then have occurred after 1847, the year the Mormons went into the Salt Lake Valley. Possibly it may have been the party mentioned by Farnham in 1839, though this would not be true if the men found Mormons at Salt Lake. An old mountaineer, named Baker, once told Powell of a party of men starting down the river and named Ashley as one, and this story, which referred undoubtedly to the real Ashley party, became confused with some other wherein the survivors probably did strike for Salt Lake and were helped by the Mormons.¹ At any rate, the rapids which had wrecked the earlier party and swallowed up the No-Name were appropriately called Disaster Falls.

The Canyon of Lodore. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

The river descends throughout Lodore with great rapidity and every day brought with it hard work and narrow escapes. Sometimes the danger was of a novel and unexpected character, as on June l6th, when the dry willows around camp caught fire. Powell had started for a climb of investigation and looking down on the camp he perceived a sudden tremendous activity without being able for some moments to discover the cause. So rapidly did the fire spread that there was no escape except by the boats. Some had their clothing burned and their hair singed, while Bradley even had his ears scorched. The cook in his haste stumbled with his arms full of culinary utensils, and the load disappeared beneath the waters, ever on the alert to swallow up man, boat, or beast. Just below the camp was a rapid and, casting off, they were forced to run this without stopping to examine it. No harm was done to the boats, and they landed at the first opportunity. When the fire had burned out they went back along the rocks to pick up what had been left behind and was unconsumed. On the same day, as the men were in the act of lowering a boat by lines, she broke away and started on an independent run. Fortunately, she soon became entangled in an eddy, where she halted long enough to permit them to hurry down the small boat and recapture her. Sometimes the channel was beset with innumerable great rocks, amidst which the river seethed and boiled in a manner sufficient to terrify any boatmen, but, luckily, they were able to work their way cautiously along, and without further disaster they came, on the 17th of June, to a place where the walls broke away and they emerged into a beautiful park-like widening of the canyon with bounding cliffs only about 600 feet high near the river. After the continuous cliffs of from 2000 to 2500 feet this place seemed like open country. Once more they camped in a quiet place at

Echo Rock on Right, from which Echo Park Takes its Name. To one sitting in a boat near foreground a sentence of ten words is repeated. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

Here a deer was brought in by one of the men, and, as they killed a mountain sheep farther up, they had not suffered for fresh meat. The entrance to the next canyon was very abrupt, and they were soon whirling along on a swift current. Though there were many rapids, landings were easy, and there was plenty of standing room everywhere, so that in two days they had the pleasure of pulling out of this Split Mountain Canyon into the Wonsits Valley, the longest opening in the whole line of canyons. Thus far, no Amerinds had been seen, not even signs of them, but here they found some tipi poles and the dead embers of a camp-fire, showing that other human beings besides themselves had traversed the lands now about them. Pushing ahead over the sluggish waters of the river in this valley, they were not long in arriving at the mouth of the Uinta River, where Powell and two others walked out to the Ute Agency, about forty miles distant up the Uinta. One of the crew of the wrecked No-Name, Frank Goodman, here decided that he had seen all the canyons his education required and took his departure. This was not unwelcome to Powell, for the boats were still heavily loaded and the three men who had composed the crew of the wrecked boat were no longer actually required. Starting again, they arrived, not far below the mouth of the Uinta, at an island where a small crop had been planted by a “squaw-man,”² who had visited Powell’s camp the previous winter. On that occasion he had disclosed his intention of tilling this place and invited Powell to help himself when he passed there in his boats. The man was not at the farm, and nothing was ripe, but Hall suggested that potato-tops make good “greens.” A quantity was therefore secured, and, at the noon stop, cooked and eaten, with the obvious result that all were violently sick. Luckily, the sickness was brief, and they were able to proceed by the middle of the afternoon. Often, the longing, by men living on bacon and beans, for something fresh in the vegetable line, leads to foolish experiments.

The Canyon of Desolation—Sumner’s Amphitheatre. Walls about 1200 feet. Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

This Wonsits Valley soon came to an end and once more the rocks closed in, forming a canyon lacking the vegetation that had accompanied the cliffs along the river above. Because of this general barren appearance the gorge was called the Canyon of Desolation. On July 11th, they approached a rapid which seemed at first glance no more difficult to run than many they had successfully dashed through. The leading boat by Powell’s direction pulled, into it, but this move was no sooner made than he perceived that at the bottom the river turned sharply to the left and the waters were piled against the foot of the cliff in an alarming manner. An effort was made to land, but as they had shortly before broken one oar and lost another, the two remaining were not sufficient to propel the boat with force enough to reach the desired point. At the same time, a huge wave striking the boat turned it instantly upside down and cast Powell some distance away. He succeeded in reaching her side, and there found Sumner and Dunn clinging. When quiet water was again entered they attempted to right the craft, and in doing this Dunn lost his hold and went under, though at the critical moment, as he came up, Sumner succeeded in grasping him and drawing him to the boat. By this time, they had drifted a long way down and saw another rapid approaching. By swimming desperately, they avoided being carried into this in their awkward plight, and, towing the boat after them, landed none too soon on a pile of driftwood on the bank. A gun, some barometers, and other articles that were in the open compartment, were lost, though one roll of blankets had been caught and saved by Powell as it drifted by. Building a large fire on the shore, they dried their clothing, while out of one of the logs they manufactured much-needed oars.

The Steamer “The Canyon of Desolation—Low Water.
Cliffs about 2700 feet. Note boat with men on rocks, middle distance, making a let-down.
Photograph by E. O. Beaman. U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp.

Fortified by these, they ran several bad rapids the following day. In one, Bradley was knocked overboard, but, his foot catching under the seat, he was dragged head down through the water till the worst of the fall was passed, when one of the other men managed to haul him in. Just below this, they emerged again into an expansion of the walls, leaving the ninety-seven miles of Desolation behind. But another mile brought the rocks back once more, and the thirty-six miles of Gray Canyon must be passed before they came to Gunnison Valley. Beyond this, walls of sandstone about one thousand feet high hemmed the river in for some sixty miles, but the stream was not dangerous and the party moved on quickly, though the absence of rapids and swift water made rowing obligatory. At the foot of this gorge, called from its winding character, Labyrinth Canyon, there was a brief expansion before the next walls closed upon them. These were closer than any seen above, but the river, though swift, had no dangerous element, so that progress was safe and easy, and in a trifle over forty miles they came to the mouth of a river almost as large as the Green, flowing in a canyon of similar depth and character. This was Grand River. At last they had reached the place where these two streams unite, thirteen hundred feet below the surrounding country; the mysterious Junction which, so far as the records go, Macomb and all white men before had failed to find. Therefore when Powell and his band floated down till the waters of the Green mingled with those of the Grand they were perhaps the first white men ever to arrive at the spot. The Colorado proper was now before them. It was the mystery of mysteries.

¹Should any reader have knowledge of the men who were wrecked in Lodore between the time of Ashley and Powell, the author would be glad to hear of it.

²A white man married to a squaw, and living with the tribe.