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.
Green River above Flaming Gorge.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
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.
“Standing on a high point,” he says, “I can look off in every direction over a vast landscape with salient rocks and cliffs glittering in the evening sun. Dark shadows are settling in the valleys and gulches, and the heights are made higher, and the depths deeper by the glamour and witchery of light and shade. Away to the south, the Uinta mountains stretch in a long line; high peaks thrust into the sky, and snow-fields glittering like lakes of molten silver; and pine forests in sombre green; and rosy clouds playing around the borders of huge black masses; and heights and clouds and mountains and snow-fields and forests and rock-lands are blended into one grand view.”
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.