Chapter I: Part 1

Transcriber Note

Text emphasis denoted as _Italics_ and =Bold=. Table of Contents added to assist the reader.

Around the Circle

A Thousand Miles Through The Rocky Mountains.

"AROUND THE CIRCLE"

Will be sent free upon application to

J. W. SLOSSON, T. W. BECKER,
Acting General Agent, Acting General Agent,
236 Clark Street, Chicago. 379 Broadway, New York.

W. M. RANK, H. V. LUYSTER,
General Agent, T. P. A., D. & R. G. R. R.,
No. 219 Front St., San Francisco. 1008 Broadway, Kansas City, Mo.

W. F. TIBBITS, W. R. PECK,
T. P. A., D. & R. G. R. R., City Pass. Agt., D. & R. G. R. R.,
Denver, Colo. 1662 Larimer St., Denver, Colo.

W. J. SHOTWELL, F. A. WADLEIGH,
General Agent, Asst. Gen. Passenger Agent,
Salt Lake City, Utah. Denver, Colo.

E. T. JEFFERY, OTTO MEARS,
Pres. & Gen. Mgr. D. &. R. G. R. R. Pres. &. Gen. Mgr. R. G. S. R. R.
Denver, Colo. Denver, Colo.

A S. HUGHES, S. K. HOOPER,
Traffic Manager, Gen. Pass. Agent,
Denver, Colo. Denver, Colo.

"Around the Circle"

One Thousand Miles Through The Rocky mountains

Being a Descriptive of a Trip
Among Peaks, Over Passes
and Through Cañons of
Colorado.

+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| A Journey which comprises more Noted and Magnificent Scenery |
| Than is compassed in any other one Thousand Miles |
| of Travel in The known World |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+

Presented by the
Passenger · Department of the Denver & Rio·Grande R·R·

1892

Copyright, 1892,
By S. K. Hooper, General Passenger Agent, Denver, Colo.
Denver & Rio Grande R. R.

Knight, Leonard & Co., Printers
Chicago.

CONTENTS

Topic Page
INTRODUCTION 3
"AROUND THE CIRCLE" 5
RIO GRANDE SOUTHERN ROUTE 17
THE RAINBOW ROUTE 25
THE BLACK CAÑON 35
MARSHALL PASS 37
TOLTEC GORGE 37
ANIMAS CAÑON 39
THE ROYAL GORGE 41
HEALTH AND PLEASURE RESORTS 54
MOUNTAIN PEAKS AND PASSES 55
ELEVATION OF LAKES 55
ALTITUDE OF TOWNS AND CITIES 56
INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS 56
SEVENTY POINTS OF INTEREST 57

INTRODUCTION.

The tourist in search of grand and beautiful scenery finds an embarrassment of riches in Colorado. Among so many attractions he is at a loss which to choose, and having made a choice, he is frequently troubled with doubts as to the wisdom of his selection. Recognizing this fact, the Passenger Department of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad, after a careful and thoughtful discussion of the situation, has decided to make a selection of a tour that shall embrace the most varied and picturesque scenery to be found on the line of any railroad in the world, included in a single trip, at a moderate cost. The excursion "Around the Circle" presents all these advantages. It can be made comfortably in four days, and no portion of the journey has to be retraced, thus affording constant variety and keeping the interest of the tourist pleasurably excited to the end. It is a remarkable fact that this journey, if pursued in the line laid down in the following pages, is cumulative in its character. Like a well-constructed drama, the interest grows stronger and stronger with each stage of its progress, until the final scene, which is an overpowering climax of grandeur and majesty. The points of interest on the trip "Around the Circle" are practically innumerable. The observing tourist will discover many beauties and attractions which are not described by the writer. No attempt has been made to include all that is worthy of mention. Only those scenes which are of transcendent interest have been touched upon, and in the pages which follow, the reader will only obtain a bird's-eye view of the tour. This being the case, the tourist can readily imagine what pleasure lies before him. In this instance distance does not lend enchantment to the view. To penetrate the heart of the majestic mountains, to cross and re-cross the great Rocky Range, to gaze with breathless awe into the defiles of abysmal chasms, and to behold with reverent, upturned eyes the ancient summits of heaven-defying snow-crowned peaks, are privileges that familiarity can never make commonplace nor belittle. Such privileges are granted to the tourists "Around the Circle," and with full confidence that he who takes the journey: will find his brightest anticipations more than realised, this little book is placed before him.

"AROUND THE CIRCLE."

The journey "Around the Circle" on the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, from Denver to Silverton, Silverton to Ouray, and return to Denver, or via the Denver & Rio Grande to Durango, thence over the Rio Grande Southern R. R. to Ridgway and return to Denver, briefly described in the following pages, comprises more noted and magnificent scenery than any other trip of similar length in the known world. Piercing the heart of the Rocky Mountains, crossing and recrossing the "Great Divide" between the Atlantic and Pacific slopes; penetrating five cañons, each of which is a world's wonder, and no two having the same characteristics; climbing four mountain passes by rail and one by stage; achieving grades of 211 feet to the mile; reaching heights 11,000 feet above the sea; penetrating gorges whose walls soar a half mile in perpendicular cliffs above the track; traversing fertile and picturesque valleys, watered by historic rivers; passing through Indian reservations and in sight of frontier cantonments of National troops; pausing in the midst of mining camps, where gold and silver and coal and copper are being taken from subterranean recesses; in a word, making the traveler familiar with peaks and plains, lakes and rivers, cañons and passes, mountains and mesas; with strange scenes in nature, aboriginal types of men, wonders of science and novel forms of art; surely no other journey of a thousand miles can so instruct, entertain, entrance and thrill the traveler as this trip "Around the Circle."

Every mile of the journey has its especial attraction. A thousand objects of interest present themselves to view in rapid succession. A thousand novel impressions photograph themselves upon the mind, a thousand landscapes of wonderful and bewitching beauty beyond the power of pen or pencil, or brush or camera to depict, can be seen from the windows of the car. Colorado is a land of wonders, a land of surprises, a land of sharp and wonderful contrasts. Take Toltec Gorge as a central point, and with a radius of two hundred miles describe a circle. Within the confines of that magic ring will be found more grand and wonderful scenery accessible by rail than within any similar circle swept anywhere on the surface of the world! Pilgrimages are made across the seas to behold the beauties of some one famed object The Via Mala attracts one, Mount Blanc another, the Colosseum a third, and the tourist, after all his great expenditure of time and money, comes away with one impression.

It ought to be the fashion for Americans to see something of their own country before they rush across the ocean to gaze at the wonders of the Old World. It is a good omen that many Americans appreciate this fact and are turning their attention to the unsurpassed scenery of their native land. The "Via Mala" is dwarfed into insignificance when compared with the "Royal Gorge." The hundreds of peaks among the Rockies, reaching an altitude of over fourteen thousand feet, should compensate one for the solitary grandeur of "Mount Blanc," while the ruins of the "Cliff Dwellings" tell of a race older than that which built the "Colosseum."

It would be impossible within the pages allotted for this book to give an adequate description of even half the noteworthy things to be seen in a journey "Around the Circle." All that can be attempted is briefly to characterize a few of the most remarkable objects of interest, objects which deserve to rank with the greatest natural attractions of the world, and most of which have already become known as marvels, to behold which would amply repay a journey across the continent.

The trip naturally begins at Denver, the great railroad center of Colorado, and a city of more than ordinary attractiveness.

For a hundred and twenty miles the railroad extending to the south follows the front range of the Rocky Mountains, which is in plain view on the right and to the west. After Denver has been left behind, the tourist can see from the car window the snow-covered pinnacles of Long's, James', Gray's and Pike's Peaks standing in a wilderness of lesser mountains. Soon a remarkable promontory rising from the summit of a conical hill and presenting the appearance of an ancient round tower, attracts the tourist's attention. This is Castle Rock, under whose battlements nestles a picturesque village of the same name. Beyond Castle Rock the country becomes more broken, the ascent being now begun at what is known as the Divide, a range of hills extending eastward into the plains and rising to an elevation of 7,500 feet. Curious formations of sandstone frequently occur, the most notable of which is called Casa Blanca, and can be seen on the right between Greenland station and Palmer Lake. This enormous monolith is a thousand feet in length and two hundred feet high, and on account of its size, its snow-white walls and its castellated appearance, can hardly fail to attract attention. On the summit of the Divide is Palmer Lake, a lovely little sheet of water, so equally poised that its waters flow through outlets northward into the Platte and southward into the Arkansas. Here has been established a pleasant summer resort, and here also is Glen Park, where assemblies are held each summer, modeled on those of the well-known Chautauqua.

Beyond Palmer Lake, on both sides of the track, may be seen wonderful formations of brilliant red sandstone, taking the form of castles, fortifications and towers. One of the most striking of these has been named Phœbe's Arch, being a great castle-like upthrust of glowing red rock, through which there is a perfect natural archway. The descent of the Divide to Colorado Springs is through an interesting country, the mountains to the west and plains extending to the east. As Colorado Springs are approached, the great gateway to the Garden of the Gods can be seen to the right, and Pike's Peak, rising to an altitude of 14,147 feet, its summit white with snow, attracts instant attention. A side trip can here be taken, at nominal expense, to Manitou Springs, five miles distant, the famous watering place of the west, a pleasure resort possessing wonderful effervescent and medicinal springs, and surrounded by more objects of scenic interest than any resort of a like character in the old or new world, including "Garden of the Gods," "Glen Eyre," "Red Rock Cañon," "Crystal Park," "Ruxton's Glen," "William's Cañon," "Manitou Grand Caverns," "Cave of the Winds," "Ute Pass," "Rainbow Falls," "Bear Creek Cañon," "Cheyenne Mountain," "Pike's Peak," and hundreds of others, to name which space is lacking.

The cog-wheel railroad to the summit of Pike's Peak is now completed and in operation, and is the most novel railway in the world. When it reaches its objective point above the clouds, at a height of 14,147 feet above sea level, it renders almost insignificant by comparison the famous cog-way up Mount Washington, and the inclined railway up the Rhigi in Switzerland.

The route is the most direct possible, and about nine miles in length. The track is the same as that of the Mount Washington line, standard gauge, with an eight-inch cast-steel cog-rail. The cars are set on low trucks to prevent them from becoming top-heavy on curves or in a high wind. This is almost an unnecessary precaution, as it is not expected to make the ascent in less than two hours. On the ascent the cars are pushed by the engine, but on the descent the locomotive is placed in front. The engine achieves the tremendous grades by means of a cog-wheel, which fits into the cog-rail. This mountain road is a great attraction, added to the many which already render Manitou the greatest summer resort of the mid-continental region.

The run from Colorado Springs to Pueblo is down the valley of a pretty little stream, the Fountaine qui Bouille, along whose banks are situated rich farms, or as they are universally termed in the west, "ranches," on which large crops are grown through the medium of irrigation. A hundred miles to the westward may be seen the faint blue outlines of the Greenhorn range of mountains, while to the eastward stretch the plains, the view of which is limited only by the horizon. Pueblo is the great manufacturing city of central Colorado. It has one of the largest steel manufactories in the world, and a number of extensive smelters. Its close proximity to coal and iron mines, and the fact that it has become a railroad center of much importance, makes the future of the city exceedingly bright in promise. With a population of over 20,000, constantly increasing, and with the energy and push of its citizens, it cannot fail of achieving the greatest prosperity.

From Pueblo, 120 miles distant from Denver, the journey is continued to the south, still across a level country, and to the left the Spanish peaks soon rise to view. These mountains possess a peculiar attraction, rising, as they do, directly from the plain in symmetrical, conical outlines, and reaching an altitude respectively of 13,620 and 12,720 feet. The Indians, with a touch of instinctive poetry, named these mountains "Wahatoya," or Twin Breasts.

Shortly after sighting the Spanish Peaks, the ascent of Veta Pass is begun The ascent of this famous pass is one of the great engineering achievements of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. The line follows the ravine formed by a little stream. La Veta Mountain rising to the right. At the head of this gulch is the wonderful "Mule-Shoe Curve," the sharpest curve of the kind known in railroad engineering. In the center of the bend is a bridge, and the sparkling waters of the mountain stream can be seen flashing and foaming in their rocky bed below. Standing on the rear platform of the Pullman car as the train rounds the curve, the tourist can see the fireman and engineer attending to their duties. From this point the ascent of Dump Mountain begins, rocks and precipitous escarpments of shaley soil to the right and perpendicular cliffs and chasms to the left. The ascent is slowly made, two great Mogul engines urging their iron sinews to the giant task. The view to the eastward is one of great extent and magnificence. The plains stretch onward to the dim horizon line like a gently undulating ocean, from which rise the twin cones of "Wahatoya," strangely fascinating in their symmetrical beauty. At the summit of the pass the railroad reaches an elevation of 9,393 feet above the sea.

Veta Mountain is to the right as the ascent of the pass is made, and rises with smooth sides and splintered pinnacles to a height of 11,176 feet above the sea level. The stupendous proportions of this mountain, the illimitable expanse of planes, the symmetrical cones of the Spanish Peaks, present a picture upon which it is a never-ceasing delight for the eye to dwell. The train rolls steadily forward on its winding course, at last reaching the apex, glides into the timber and halts at the handsome stone station over 9,000 feet above the level of the distant sea. The downward journey is past Sierra Blanca and old Fort Garland, and through that pastoral and picturesque valley known, as San Luis Park.

At Placer one can say that the descent of Veta Pass has been accomplished, though it is still all down grade to Alamosa. This little town is situated on the eastern border of the San Luis Valley and at the western extremity of La Veta Pass.

From Alamosa station a magnificent view of Blanca is obtained, and this majestic mountain, with its triple peaks capped with snow, and two-thirds of its height above timber line, presents a noble and impressive spectacle. To the north and south, silhouetted against a sky of perfect azure, are the serrated pinnacles of the Sangre de Christo range. It would be difficult to find, even in this land of peaks, a more impressive mountain view than that obtained during the traversing of the San Luis Valley, on the eastern rim of which Garland Station, the site of old Fort Garland, rests. Here is a park 7,500 feet above sea level, surrounded on all sides by ranges of rugged mountains whose summits are whitened with perpetual snow. San Luis Park has an area larger than Connecticut, watered plentifully by mountain streams and traversed by the historic and beautiful Rio Grande del Norte. The soil of this valley is fertile, and through the medium of irrigation the park is rapidly becoming a great agricultural region.

From Pueblo the line diverges and the tourist may go via Veta Pass as described above, or to Salida, and thence through the Poncha Pass to Villa Grove and down through the beautiful San Luis Valley to Alamosa, noted for its fine farms and phenomenal yield of agricultural products. From the point named above there is a tangent of fifty-two miles and the San Luis Valley portion is a straight line through one of the most fruitful and beautiful sections of the State.

From Alamosa a delightful side trip can be taken to the Hot Springs at Wagon Wheel Gap, and to the new and already famous mining camp, Creede, for which a reduced rate will be given. A word about this wonderful health and pleasure resort will not be out of place here. As the Gap is approached the valley narrows until the river is hemmed in between massive walls of solid rock which rise to such a height on either side as to throw the passage into twilight shadow. The river rushes roaring down over gleaming gravel or precipitous ledges. Progressing, the scene becomes wilder and more romantic, until at last the waters of the Rio Grande pour through a cleft in the rocks just wide enough to allow the construction of a road along the river's edge. On the right, as one enters, tower cliffs to a tremendous height, suggestive in their appearance of the Palisades of the Hudson. On the left rises the round shoulder of a massive mountain. The vast wall is unbroken for more than half a mile, its crest presenting an almost unserrated sky line. Once through the Gap, the traveler, looking toward the south, sees a valley encroached upon and surrounded by hills

"Bathed in the tenderest purple of distance,
Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air."

Here is an old stage station, a primitive and picturesque structure of hewn logs, made cool and inviting by wide-roofed verandahs. Not a hundred feet away rolls the Rio Grande river, swarming with trout. A drive of a mile along a winding road, each turn in which reveals new scenic beauties, brings the tourist to the famous springs. The medicinal qualities of the waters, both of the cold and hot springs, have been thoroughly tested and proved equal, if not superior, to the Hot Springs of Arkansas.

Ten miles beyond Wagon Wheel Gap is Creede; nothing yesterday, a city of seven thousand people to-day. Here is Colorado's newest and richest mining camp, bustling with all the activity of an older eastern city. Situated in the heart of a cañon and extending through it and widening out on to the less precipitous hills below, composed of buildings of all kinds, from the temporary "shack" of the prospector to the more pretentious brick store. The mountain side dotted with innumerable prospect holes, with an occasional large building of unpainted pine, rising from which is a volume of steam and smoke giving ocular evidence of the presence of a mine of more than ordinary interest and value. To the tourist desiring to combine business with pleasure, here is the opportunity to buy what at present seems only "a hole in the ground," but which may some day develop into a mint within Itself.

Leaving Alamosa and continuing the circle tour, after crossing San Luis Park, and just before reaching Toltec Tunnel, a sharp curve takes the train into a nook among the hills. To the left are great monumental and fantastic forms of rock, while to the right are cliffs rising to a height of five or six hundred feet above the track. From the quaint and curious formations which rise to the left as this bend is rounded, it has been named Phantom Curve. In half an hour Toltec Tunnel is reached, the great peculiarity of which is that it pierces the top of a mountain instead of its base. For six hundred feet it has been blasted through the living rock, and such is its solidity that no masonry is needed to support the superincumbent rock masses above. When the train emerges from the tunnel it rolls out upon a bridge of trestle-work set like a balcony against the wall of stone. Beneath, to the left, is Toltec Gorge. The traveler looks down fifteen hundred feet and, glancing upward, sees the opposite wall of the gorge rising a thousand feet above him. The scene is one of the most thrilling and unique in the whole journey "Around the Circle." Below, at the bottom of the gorge, swirls and dashes a little stream, whose waters are churned into snow-white foam, and the noise of whose progress comes faintly to the ear, borne upward from those tremendous depths.

An object of interest to all visitors to Toltec Gorge is the Garfield Memorial, a beautiful monument of granite, raised by the National Association of General Passenger Agents, who held service at this spot on the 26th day of September, 1881, at the time President Garfield was being buried at Cleveland, Ohio.

At Cumbres, the summit of the Cumbres range of mountains, is reached an elevation of 10,115 feet, the journey of the descent is a trip fraught with great variety of scenery and abounding in interest. Here may be seen mountain meadows lush with vegetation, the surrounding hills being heavily timbered and abounding in game.

At Ignacio the Indian reservation is entered, and the rude tepees of the Southern Utes can be seen pitched along the banks of the Rio de las Florida. Occasionally a glimpse can be caught of a stolid brave, tricked out in all his savage finery, gazing fixedly at the train as it speeds by. Frequently there is quite a little group of these aborigines at the station, and they are always ready to exchange bows and arrows, trophies of the chase, or specimens of their rude handiwork in return for very hard cash.

From Durango the tourist has the choice of two routes to complete the "Circle" tour; either via the Rio Grande Southern Railroad, through the Mancos Valley, the Lost Cañon, the Valley of the Dolores and the Dolores Cañon to Rico, over the Lizard Head Pass by Trout Lake and Telluride, down the San Miguel and Leopard Creek to Ridgway; or via the Denver & Rio Grande, through the Animas Cañon to Silverton, over the Rainbow Route (Silverton Railroad) to Ironton, and thence over the famous Ironton and Ouray Stage Road to Ouray.

RIO GRANDE SOUTHERN ROUTE.

Leaving Durango via the Rio Grande Southern line, the tourist is whisked across the Rio de Las Animas up Lightner Creek, past the silver and gold smelters with their seething furnaces and smoke and dust-begrimed workmen, and shortly past the famous coal banks where the black diamond is dug from the bowels of Mother Earth, and from there hauled to the smelters where it is used for the reduction and refining of its more exalted, but not more useful brethren.

Up through the valley the train speeds along among huge pines which thus far have escaped the woodman's axe, and which will be free from such invasion as long as Uncle Sam claims this particular spot as the especial reservation for the military post at old Fort Lewis.

From Fort Lewis the line passes through seemingly endless forests of pine trees, and after the reservation is passed an occasional saw-mill is sighted from its emitting unearthly screeches, which the knowing ones say is merely the head sawyer sharpening up.

Descending the mountain into the valley, the beholder looks out on a broad expanse of fertile, well-watered country, surrounded on all sides by snow-capped mountains, and dotted with the rancheros of the hardy pioneer, who has been well repaid for his daring in locating in this far-away but beautiful valley, by its productiveness, and now that the railroad, that greatest of all civilizers, has come, he has abundant opportunities for the disposition of his produce.

In the center of this valley lies Mancos station, which is the junction with the main line of the proposed extension of this road into Arizona.

To the south of Mancos station within a day's drive, and easily accessible, are the ruins of the strange habitations of an extinct and mysterious race known as the Cliff Dwellers. To those seeking curiosities and wonders, the great Cañon of the Mancos, the great Montezuma Valley, the McElmo Cañon, the Lower Animas Valley and the Chaco Cañon are the wonderlands of the world. They contain thousands of homes, and a town of the ancient race of Mound Builders and "Cliff Dwellers," that has attracted the curious ever since the discovery of America. The great Mancos Cañon contains hundreds of these homes which were built and occupied hundreds of years ago. Yet many of them are in a good state of preservation, and in them have been found hundreds of specimens of pottery, and implements of husbandry and warfare. This cañon is twenty miles south of Mancos, over a good wagon road. The cañon is cut through Mesa Verda, a distance of thirty miles, and the walls on either side rise to a perpendicular height of two thousand feet. These cliff dwellings are built in the sides of this cañon, as shown in the illustration. Fifteen miles farther west from the Mancos is situated the great Montezuma Valley, where thousands of fine specimens of pottery have been found among the ruins of that ancient people. On the west side of this valley is the great McElmo Cañon, also full of the ancient homes of the "Cliff Dwellers." Thirty-five miles south of Durango, in the valley of the Animas, are some extensive ruins of the Aztecs, and fifty miles further south are the wonderful ruins in the Chaco Cañon. These ancient Pueblos are, without doubt, the most extensive and the best preserved of any in the United States. Of these Prof. Hayden, in his report of the Geological Survey of the United States for the year 1866, says: "The great ruins in the Chaco Cañon are pre-eminently the finest examples of the works of the unknown builders to be found north of the seat of ancient Aztec Empire in Mexico." There are eleven extensive Pueblos in this cañon, nearly all in a good state of preservation, and their appearance indicates that they were once the home of fifteen hundred to three thousand people each. They are the most accessible from Mancos of any point on the line of railroads. From the thousands of ruins of cities, towns and families found throughout this great San Juan Valley, it is evident that once this great valley was the home of hundreds of thousands of this extinct race. That they were a peaceful and agricultural race of people is evidenced by the large number of their implements of husbandry and specimens of corn and beans found in these ruins, besides irrigating ditches and reservoirs for the storage of water.

Leaving Mancos, the road winds up the sloping sides of a flat-topped mountain, and there on its summit, among huge pines centuries old, bubbles up a clear, cold spring of sparkling water, forming the stream that flows down through the beautiful Lost Cañon, and is called by the unpoetic name of "Lost Cañon Creek."

Lost Cañon is a novelty in itself, as its sides are densely wooded and softly carpeted with a thick bed of moss and leaves, beautifully colored by millions of Colorado wild flowers whose delicate beauty is unrivaled.

Emerging from Lost Cañon the traveler is whirled up to the beautiful valley of the Dolores River, with its many ranches and farms, past the town of the same name. Off to the left, flowing to the eastward, comes bubbling down the mountain side into the larger river, the West Dolores, and no more famous or prolific trout stream exists than this.

Continuing on up the main river, the valley begins to narrow down, until we are once more within the walls of a cañon which takes its name from the stream flowing through it. While this cañon is not particularly deep, its natural beauties are manifold and are sure to make a lasting and delightful impression on the beholder.

Rushing out of the cañon the tourist is now landed at Rico. Rico is one of the most important mining towns of the State, whose mines dot the mountain sides, and whose product is packed in the cars on the backs of the ever-patient and faithful burro, without which no mining camp can be complete. The town is located in what was at one time the crater of a large volcano. Precipitous mountains with poetic names arise upon all sides of it, gradually widening, until by describing a circle of their summits they appear as the top of a huge funnel. Among them is the famous Telescope Mountain, a freak of nature only to be seen to form a proper realization of the aptness of its name. The place has much of historic interest, as evidences of early Spanish discoveries are found on many sides.

Leaving Rico, the line continues up the Dolores, which grows smaller and smaller, until it becomes a mere silver thread winding in and out among huge rocks and boulders. Thirteen miles north of Rico, and after climbing many miles of three and four per cent, grades, the summit of the Lizard Head Pass is reached at an elevation of nearly 11,000 feet. From the summit and to the left will be seen the Lizard Head, a peculiar rock formation capping a tall, bare mountain. This rock derives its name from its resemblance to the head of a mountain lizard, though at the same time it may be said to resemble the shaft of some large monument.

Descending the pass through the mountain gorges over rushing mountain streams, one finds one's self at Trout Lake. No more graphic description of this sheet of beautiful blue water can be given than a verse from a poem by "H. H."

"The mountain's wall in the water;
It looks like a great blue cup;
And the sky looks like another
Turned over, bottom side up."

Here the sport-inclined tourist may spend a few days, for the lake is inhabited by thousands and thousands of mountain trout.

Shortly after leaving Trout Lake, the famous Ophir Loop is passed. Here the skill of the engineer was taxed to its utmost, for the track winds in zig-zags down the mountain side, rushing through a deep cut here, over a mountain torrent and a high bridge there, darting around sharp curves, in and out of snowsheds, until on the opposite mountain and high above us is to be seen a line of freshly-turned earth, which the knowing ones say is the track over which we have just passed.

From Vance Junction, a side trip of ten miles, which will well repay the tourist, can be made to Telluride, a mining town of some 2,500 inhabitants, nestling among snow-capped mountains, rising to stupendous heights and rich in gold and silver.

From Vance Junction the journey is continued down the San Miguel River, past Placerville, until the river leaves the rail, and again we commence to go up; this time over the Dallas Divide. This pass resembles Marshall Pass, though not quite so long. After reaching the summit, the line runs down the eastern slope along Leopard Creek, high above it on the mountain side, giving a most magnificent view of the Uncompahgre Range to the south with its gentle slopes softly colored by the deep, dark foliage of dense pine and fir forests, gradually rising until the mountains develop into a huge mass of shattered pinnacles, their topmost points covered with the everlasting snow.

Arriving at Ridgway, a city of some 1,500 inhabitants, the journey is again resumed on the original route via the Denver & Rio Grande.

THE RAINBOW ROUTE.

From Durango, the metropolis of the San Juan, to Silverton the scenery is of surpassing grandeur and beauty. The railroad follows up the course of the Animas River (to which the Spaniards gave the musical but melancholy title of "Rio de las Animas Perdidas," or River of Lost Souls), until the picturesque mining town of Silverton is reached. The valley of the Animas is traversed before the cañon is reached, and the traveler's eyes are delighted with succeeding scenes of sylvan beauty. To the right is the river, beyond which rise the hills; to the left are mountains, increasing in rugged contour as the advance is made; between the track and the river are cultivated fields and cosy farmhouses, while evidences of peace, prosperity and plenty are to be seen on every hand. Nine miles above Durango, Trimble Hot Springs are reached. The spacious hotel stands within a hundred yards of the road to the left of the track. Here are medicinal hot springs of great curative value, and here, in the season, gather invalids and pleasure seekers to drink the waters and enjoy the delights of this charming resort. Leaving the springs behind, the train speeds up the valley, which gradually narrows as the advance is made; the ascending grade becomes steeper, the hills close in, and soon the view is restricted to the rocky gorge within whose depths the raging waters of the Animas sway and swirl.

Animas Cañon has characteristics peculiarly its own. The railroad does not follow the bed of the stream, but clings to the cliffs midway of their height; and a glance from the car window gives one the impression of a view from a balloon. Below, a thousand feet, are the waters of the river--in places, white with foam; in quiet coves, green as ocean's depths. Above, five hundred feet, climb the combing cliffs, to which cling pines and hemlocks. The cañon here is a mere fissure in the mountain's heart, so narrow that one can easily toss a stone across and send it bounding down the side of the opposing rock wall until it falls into the waters of the river coursing through the abyss below. Emerging from this wonderful chasm, the bed of the gorge rises until the roadway is but a few feet above the level of the stream. The close, confining and towering walls of rock are replaced by mountains of supreme height. The Needles, which are among the most peculiar and striking of the Rockies, thrust their sharp and splintered peaks into the regions of eternal frost.

Elk Park is a quiet little nook in the midst of the range, with vistas of meadows and groves of pines, a spot which would furnish the artist many a subject for his canvass.

At the end of Elk Park stands Garfield Peak, lifting its summit a mile above the track. Beyond are marshaled the everlasting mountains, and through them for miles extends, in varying beauty and grandeur, the cañon of the Animas. Frequent waterfalls glitter in the sunlight, leaping from crag to crag, only to lose themselves at last in the outflowing river. Emerging finally from this environment of crowding cliffs, the train sweeps into Baker's Park and arrives at Silverton in the heart of the San Juan.

Silverton is interesting, both from its picturesque position and from the fact that it is a mining town. The mountains by which it is surrounded on all sides are honeycombed with the shafts and tunnels of innumerable mines. Sultan Mountain, which overlooks the town, is a noble and impressive elevation, and adds to the grandeur of the scene by its regal presence.

From Silverton the journey "Around the Circle" is continued by taking the Silverton Railway, a road constructed up the difficult grades of Red Mountain, and doing an immense business in the handling of ores which are taken from these rich deposits; also employed in the transportation of passengers. This wonderful road owes its construction to the genius, daring and wealth of one man, Mr. Otto Mears, who has for years been the "pathfinder" of the San Juan region, building toll roads and opening the gates of prosperity to the many mining towns of this mountainous country. He is the sole owner of the road, and has conquered engineering difficulties of the most astounding character. The line does not as yet bridge the gap between Silverton and Ouray, and from Ironton, its terminus, stages carry tourists over the mountains to the latter point, where the trip is resumed by the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad.

The stage ride forms one of the most attractive features of this most attractive journey. Lasting only two hours, passing over the summits of ranges and through the depths of cañons, the tourist will find this a welcome variation to his method of travel and a great relief and recreation. The old fashioned stage, with all its romantic associations, is rapidly becoming a thing of the past. A year or two more and it will have disappeared, except in rare instances, from Colorado. Here, in the midst of some of the grandest scenery on the continent, the blue sky above and the fresh, pure, exhilarating mountain air sending the blood bounding through one's veins, to clamber into a Concord coach and be whirled along a splendidly-constructed road, costing in some instances $40,000 a mile in its construction, to behold the grandest of Nature's handiwork, and to be in such close communion with the everlasting hills, is surely a novel and delightful experience.

The scenery on this journey between Silverton and Ouray is of the greatest magnificence. This is especially true of that portion of the route traversed by stage. The Silverton and Ouray toll road has long been noted for its attractions in the way of scenery, the triangular mass of Mount Abraham's towers to the left, while the road winds around the curves of the hills with the sinuosity of a mountain brook. The scene from the bridge over Bear Creek is one which once beheld can never be forgotten. Directly under the bridge plunges a cataract to a depth of 253 feet, forming a most noteworthy and impressive scene. The toll road passes through one of the greatest mining regions in the world, and the fame of Red Mountain is well deserved both from the number and richness of its mines. Before Ouray is reached, the road passes through Uncompahgre Cañon. Here the roadbed has been blasted from the solid rock wall of the gorge, and a scene similar in nature and rivaling in grandeur that of Animas Cañon is beheld.

Ouray is one of the most beautifully situated towns to be found anywhere. Its scenery is idyllic. The village is cradled in a lovely valley surrounded by rugged mountains. The situation of the town is thus vividly described by Ernest Ingersoll in the "Crest of the Continent": "The valley in which the town is built is at an elevation of about 7,500 feet above the sea, and is pear-shaped, its greatest width being not more than half a mile, while its length is about twice that, down to the mouth of the cañon. Southward--that is, toward the heart of the main range--stand the two great peaks, Hardin and Hayden. Between is the deep gorge down which the Uncompahgre finds its way; but this is hidden from view by a ridge which walls in the town and cuts off all farther view from it in that direction, save where the triangular top of Mount Abram peers over. Westward are grouped a series of broken ledges, surmounted by greater and more rugged heights. Down between these and the western foot of Mt. Hayden struggles Cañon Creek to join the Uncompahgre, while Oak Creek leaps down a line of cataracts from a notch in the terraced heights through which the quadrangular head of White House Mountain becomes grandly discernible--the easternmost buttress of the wintry Sierra San Miguel.

"At the lower side of the basin, where the path of the river is beset with close cañon walls, the cliffs rise vertically from the level of the village, and bear their forest growth many hundreds of feet above. These mighty walls, two thousand feet high in some places, are of metamorphic rock, and their even stratification simulates courses of well-ordered masonry. Stained by iron, and probably also by manganese, they are a deep red maroon. This color does not lie uniformly, however, but is stronger in some layers than in others, so that the whole face of the cliff is banded horizontally in pale rust color, or dull crimson, or deep and opaque maroon. The western cliff is bare, but on the more frequent ledges of the eastern wall scattered spruces grow, and add to its attractiveness. Yet, as though Nature meant to teach that a bit of motion--a suggestion of glee was needed to relieve the somberness of utter immobility and grandeur, however shapely--she has led to the sunlight, by a crevice in the upper part of the eastern wall that we cannot see, a brisk torrent draining the snowfields of some distant plateau. This little stream, thus beguiled by the fair channel that led it through the spruce woods above, has no time to think of its fate, but is flung out over the sheer precipice eighty feet into the valley below. We see the white ghost of its descending, and always to our ears is murmured the voice of the Naiads who are taking the breathless plunge. Yet by what means the stream reaches that point from above cannot be seen, and the picture is that of a strong jet of water bursting from an orifice through the crimson wall, and falling into rainbow-arched mist and a tangle of grateful foliage that hides its further flowing."

Resuming the railroad journey at Ouray, the traveler will find much to interest him in the run past Ridgway, where the Rio Grande Southern connects with the Denver & Rio Grande, to Montrose, where the main line is again reached, and, with faces turned once more to the eastward, the homeward segment of the "circle" is entered upon, and the greatest wonders of all this wonderful journey lie before. From Cerro Summit a fine view can be had of the Uncompahgre Valley, its river, and the distant peaks of the San Juan and Uncompahgre ranges of mountains. Cimarron Cañon is entered shortly after leaving Cerro Summit, the road following this cañon down Cimarron Creek to where it empties into the Gunnison river. Here begins the tourist's experience in the world-renowned Black Cañon of the Gunnison. The name is a misnomer. There is nothing black about the cañon except the shadows of the towering granite walls. The cliffs themselves show bright and happy colors. Gay contrasts of pink and blue, bright complements of red and maroon, all shades blended and differentiated, dashed on here and there as with the broad, free-handed sweep of some master scenic painter. The scene is varied, kaleidoscopic, constantly changing. Here the train rolls along between frowning and exalted walls: there a stream of water, Chippeta Falls, white as wool, pitches from the brow of a precipice two thousand feet above; yonder a side cañon yawns with capacious mouth as if to engulf us. Now we are in a spacious amphitheater, in the center of which stands a tremendous monument of solid stone, a spire graceful as if hewn by the hand of a Gothic builder, and terminating in a sky-piercing pinnacle. This is the famed "Currecanti Needle." Thus for twenty miles the ever-changing variety of the Black Cañon holds the awe-stricken attention of the traveler. At last the train rolls out into the valley of the Gunnison, and pastoral scenes take the place of the tumultuous grandeur just beheld.

But soon a new marvel demands attention. The ascent of Marshall Pass is just begun. We have just gone through the mountains, now we are to go over them. The Pacific slope is now to be achieved. Two powerful engines puff vigorously and take us spinning up the ringing grooves of this marvelous road, climbing grades of 211 feet to the mile with as much apparent ease as though we were traversing the level plain. What a varied panorama of mountain views meets the gaze, and when the summit is reached. 10,852 feet above the distant sea, the train pauses and the eye sweeps the prospect as far as vision reaches. To the right, fading away into the blue distance, can be seen the serrated range of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, snow-covered pyramids of transcendent beauty. To the left towers fire-scarred Mount Ouray, a volcano whose fires died out ages ago, while opposite stands its companion peak, Mount Shaveno. Beneath is the pathway of our ascent, four lines in view, each one an ascending circle of our tortuous upward journey.

Half a dozen revolutions of the wheels and we are on the Atlantic slope. The waters all run to the eastward now. One engine holds the train in check. There are no smoke and cinders. Pneumatic breaks skillfully applied by the engineer control the power of gravitation, which is the sole force needed to carry the long train down its winding way. The sinuosity of the descent is something indescribable. A glance at the illustration of the alignment of the road over Marshall Pass will convey a better idea than anything that could be said. The descent is ended at Poncha Springs, and the train enters the valley of the Arkansas.

At Poncha are some of the most remarkable hot springs to be found anywhere in the West. There are over one hundred of these springs; the water varies in temperature from 90 to 185 degrees Fahrenheit. The analysis of the Poncha Springs corresponds almost exactly with that of the waters of the Hot Springs in Arkansas.

From the Arkansas Valley can be obtained a fine view of the Collegiate range of mountains, including the peaks of Harvard, Yale and Princeton, all of which reach an altitude greater than fourteen thousand feet.

The crowning attraction, the wonder of wonders, the marvel of marvels, yet remains to be seen. The Grand Cañon of the Arkansas lies before us. There are no words in the language which can describe this cañon. There are no pigments on the artist's palette that can paint it; it is indescribable and entirely beyond the reach of mimetic art. The Grand Cañon is seven miles in length--seven miles of wonders, seven miles of the grandest, most awful scenery in the world. To the right boils and surges the Arkansas River, above which tower the red rocks of the cañon. To the left are cliffs, jutting in places above the track, and rising to tremendous and awe-inspiring heights. The progress down the cañon is by means of many intricate curves, and it seems as though the engine would dash itself to atoms against the cliffs, but each time a slight turn is made and the train rounds the promontory in safety. Soon the tourist finds himself in the heart of the mountain. Peak upon peak rises above him, until the splintered summits seem to touch the sky. Darker and darker grow the shadows, narrower and still more narrow grows the gorge, deeper and deeper grows the gloom, the river ceases its roaring, the noise of the train is hardly perceptible, for the engineer has "slowed up," and the Royal Gorge is at hand. Here the cañon is not wide enough for road and river, and here is one of the most remarkable feats of engineering. Right across the gorge, fifty feet wide at the base and perhaps seventy at the summit, which soars above to a height of nearly three thousand feet, a series of great iron braces has been thrown, from which huge iron bars depend, holding a long iron bridge in suspension, that clings to the face of the cliff, and runs, not across, but parallel with the course of the river. The eye can scarcely comprehend the stupendous height of the perpendicular cliffs whose summits pierce the heavens half a mile above our heads.

After beholding the Royal Gorge the traveler has a superlative comparison for all that is wonderful and grand in nature. He has seen something which he can never forget, and of the many marvels of this marvelous journey "Around the Circle," the greatest of them all, the crowning glory, is the Royal Gorge.

It will not be inappropriate to make some special mention of several of the more important points of interest on the circle tour, and we add below a short description of the "Royal Gorge," "Toltec Gorge," "Animas Cañon," "Black Cañon of the Gunnison," and the "Marshall Pass."

THE BLACK CAÑON.

In all the world there is no place so beautiful, imposing, sublime and awful, that may be so easy and comfortably visited, as the Black Cañon, for the iron horse of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad has a pathway through the cañon, and he draws after him coaches as handsome and pleasant as those which he draws on the level plain. Along many miles of this grand gorge the railroad lies upon a shelf that has been blasted in the solid walls of God's masonry; walls that stand sheer two thousand feet in height, and so close together that for most of the distance through the cañon only a streak of sky, sometimes in broad daylight, spangled with stars, is seen above.

"I'll look no more;
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong."

Unlike many of the Colorado cañons, the scenery in this one is kaleidoscopic, ever changing. Here the train glides along between the close, regular and exalted walls then suddenly it passes the mouth of another mighty cañon which looks as if it were a great gateway to an unroofed arcade leading from the pathway of some monstrous giant. Now, at a sharp turn, Chippeta Falls, a stream of liquid crystal, pitches from the top of the dizzy cliffs to the bosom of the sparkling river which dashes beside the road. Then a spacious amphitheater is passed, in the centre of which stands Currecanti Needle, solitary and alone, a towering monument of solid stone, which reaches to where it flaunts the clouds, like some great cathedral spire. Truly there is no gorge in all the Rocky range that presents such variety and grandeur as the Black Cañon of the Gunnison.

MARSHALL PASS.

Marshall Pass is entered almost imperceptibly from Poncha Pass, and the whole wonderful ascent might very readily be imagined as one and the same. The summit is almost eleven thousand feet above the sea, and the tortuous method by which the daring engineers of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad have achieved this summit can best be understood by a glance at the cut illustrating the alignment of the track, shown on another page. As the train progresses up the steep the view becomes less obstructed by mountain sides and the eye roams over miles of cone-shaped summits. The timberless tops of towering ranges show him that he is among the heights and in a region familiar with the clouds. Then he beholds, stretching away to the left, the most perfect of all, the Sierras. The sunlight falls with a white, transfiguring radiance upon the snow-crowned spires of the Sangre de Cristo range. Their sharp and dazzling pyramids, which near at hand are clearly defined, extend to the southward until cloud and sky and snowy peak commingle and form a vague and bewildering vision. To the right towers the fire-scarred front of old Ouray, grand, solitary and forbidding. Ouray holds the pass, standing sentinel at the rocky gateway to the fertile Gunnison. Slowly the steeps are conquered, until at last the train halts upon the summit of the continental divide which separates the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific. The traveler looks down upon four lines of road, terrace beyond terrace, the last so far below as to be quite indistinct to view. Wonder at the triumphs of engineering skill is strangely mingled with the feelings of awe and admiration at the stupendous grandeur of the scene.

TOLTEC GORGE.