MONDAY, MAY 31st.
Awakened this morning about six o’clock by Mrs. S. remarking, “I never saw the beat! Who would believe that so much of our country is desert?” I thought she was talking in her sleep, but turning over I find her gazing out of the window at the rapidly-fleeting landscape. We have drifted away from the mountains and rocks and are crossing a level, barren plain. For miles we see no sign of habitation or cultivation, but now in the distance we catch sight of an irrigating canal, with here and there a plot of land under cultivation whose fertility and verdure
break the hard lines of the desert monotony. We pass a station and upon the name board we see the word “Fruita,” a singular name, we think, for a station; but in the two seconds’ glance we have of its surroundings we can but feel that it is appropriate. Irrigating ditches, fertile fields, thrifty orchards, and blooming gardens are all seen in that fleeting glance, and we are more than ever impressed with the fact that it needs but water to convert these desert tracts into verdant fields. A number of our people are astir, and we too “turn out.” We find we are in Colorado, having crossed the State line at Utaline, a little station 35 miles west of Grand Junction, which we are now approaching, and where we arrive about seven o’clock. We halt here only long enough to change engines, but in our brief stay we can see that Grand Junction is quite a town. It has a population of about 4000; is located at the confluence of the Gunnison and Grand Rivers, with an elevation of 4500 feet; it is quite a railway centre, being the terminus of both the broad and narrow-gauge lines of the Denver and Rio Grande, the Rio Grande Western and the Colorado Midland Railways.
At 9.08 A. M. Eastern (7.08 A. M. Mountain) time we leave Grand Junction, on the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, with engine No. 522, Engineer “Cyclone” Thompson, Fireman Bert Roberts, Conductor William M. Newman, Brakemen J. Grout and O. McCullough. Conductor Hugh Long, of Salida Division No. 132, and Charles E. Hooper, advertising agent of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, met our train at Grand Junction, and we find them a pleasing and entertaining addition to our party. They present us with descriptive time tables, illustrated pamphlets, and souvenir itineraries of our trip over the wonderful scenic route of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. From Grand Junction to Glenwood Springs we follow the Grand River through the Valley of the Grand, amid grand and beautiful scenery. As we approach Glenwood Springs and pass the little stations of Rifle and Antlers, Brother Sloane grows very enthusiastic, for this is a noted hunting district, with which our brother is familiar. From Newcastle to Glenwood Springs, a distance of 12 miles, we traverse closely the north banks of the Grand River, and parallel with the tracks of the Colorado Midland Railroad on the opposite side.
Arriving at Glenwood Springs at 9.40 A. M., we go direct from the train to the springs under the escort of Mr. Hooper, who has made arrangements to give our party free access to the bathing establishment, where we are very courteously received, and each one who desires to bathe is furnished with a suit and a dressing room. Steps lead down into the pool, which is about an acre in size and filled with warm, sulphurous water to the depth of four to five feet. The hot water, at a temperature of 120 degrees, gushes into the pool on one side at the rate of about 2000 gallons per minute, and on the opposite side an ice-cold mountain stream pours in at about the same rate, keeping the water at a pleasant bathing temperature.
We spent an hour in the pool and enjoyed it mightily. How much fun we had we can never tell, but we know we had fun, and other people knew it, too, for the following item appeared in to-day’s Avalanche, an afternoon Glenwood Springs paper:—