The contour maps which we
carried credited these walls with 1300 feet height. If we had any
doubt concerning the accuracy of this, it disappeared before we
finally reached the top. What we saw, however, was worth all the
discomfort we had undergone. Close the top, three branches of dry,
rock-bottomed gullies carved from a gritty, homogeneous sandstone,
spread out from the slope we had been climbing. These were less
precipitous. Taking the extreme left-hand gully, we found the climb to
the top much easier. At the very end we found an irregular hole a few
feet in diameter not a cave, but an opening left between some immense
rocks, touching at the top, seemingly rolled together.
Gazing down through this opening, we were amazed to find that we were
directly above the Colorado itself. It was so confusing at first that
we had to climb to the very top to see which river it was, I
contending that it was the Green, until satisfied that I was mistaken.
The view from the top was overwhelming, and words can hardly describe
what we saw, or how we were affected by it.
We found ourselves on top of an irregular plateau of solid rock, with
no earth or vegetation save a few little bushes and some very small
cedars in cracks in the rocks. Branching canyons, three or four
hundred feet in depth, and great fissures ran down in this rock at
intervals. Some were dark and crooked, and the bottom could not be
seen. Between these cracks, the rock rounded like elephants backs
sloping steeply on either side.
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