No Whitewinged Schooner Or Other Merchantman Has Enlivened Its
Course By Proudly Gliding On Its Bosom To Waiting Port, Where Cargoes Are
Discharged And Received.
No thrilling fleet of battleships ever has seen
its banks, or ever will, for it is useless, absolutely, irretrievably,
God-ordainedly useless for all purposes of commerce, traffic, or
communication.
Dangerous and Destructive. Read the accounts of Powell's trips down its
dangerous course; of Alarcon's struggles to ascend its headlong tides; of
Ives's and Wheeler's attempts to explore a portion of it; of Cardenas's
efforts even to reach its waters from one of its banks, and of the ruthless
manner in which it has destroyed the lives of those unfortunate enough to
come within its reach. Then you will see how absolutely useless a river it
is. In this regard the Colorado River is unique. Most rivers carry
beneficent life all along their journey. They distribute fructifying
waters, from their rise to their end in the sea. Thriving towns and
villages line their banks, all surrounded by a fertile farming country. But
not so the Colorado! It has cut its way through the rocks so fiercely that
it is buried a thousand, two thousand, three thousand and even five
thousand and more feet below the surrounding country. It and its
tributaries drain away even the water that falls in gentle showers, before
it has time to benefit the thirsty land. Only by the expensive construction
of cemented cisterns and occasional dams can the rancher, stockman and
miner of the region hoard for his scantest needs enough of this precious
fluid. Even the hotels that are placed upon its brink to afford
stopping-places for the curious travelers who wish to see this river and
its unique waterway are compelled to haul their trains of water-cars nearly
a hundred miles to supply themselves with the water which the Colorado
River drains from their very dooryards and empties in reckless neglect into
the Gulf of California.
Yields No Electrical Power. Other rivers throughout California and the West
are yielding millions of volts annually of electrical energy, for the
lighting and heating of cities, the turning of mill-wheels, and the
running of electric cars; but the Colorado, though possessed of a potential
energy greater than any ten or twenty of these rivers combined, so far has
refused to yield up a single volt. Again and again engineers have estimated
and suggested, but the great facts remain that it is so uncertain, so wild,
so impetuous, so sure to rise when unexpected, so sure to fall when relied
upon, that, as yet, no one has been found venturesome enough to try to tame
and harness its fierce energy.
Waters to be Diverted by a Dam. Yet in spite of these serious charges I
make against the Colorado, it is peculiar in that it is the most useful of
the large rivers of the world in another domain. The United States
Reclamation Service has spent millions of the people's money in making it
of use. At Laguna, a few miles above Yuma, it has built a huge dam larger
than any similar dam in the world - that diverts these once turbulent waters
into irrigating ditches to convey their life-giving power to thousands upon
thousands of acres of desert land. The Blythe Estate is doing the same
thing a hundred or more miles higher up, near Parker, on the Santa Fe, and
already towns and settlements are springing up on those desert wastes. The
California Development Company began this work, four miles below Yuma, in
1900, and in four years had converted that great sink of the Colorado
Desert into the richly fertile domain now known as the Imperial Valley,
where today are many growing towns.
Opportunities for Swimming. Though the current of the Colorado is so
strong, there are times and places where it affords one who is not
over-fastidious as to the color of the water, an opportunity for an
excellent swim. But care must be exercised. At the foot of Bass Trail,
there are two or three rocky recesses where one may go in and swim, within
the arms of the protecting rocks, without danger. It is not well to swim in
the earlier months of the year, when the water is excessively cold. Several
times in January and February I have been overcome with temptation, and
have jumped in "merely for the plunge." The sensation is one of being
skinned alive, and one plunge is all that one cares for. Yet on emerging
and dressing, how fine one feels after it. The great melting time of the
snows on the mountains is the end of May, June and early July. It grows
warmer in July, and from then on to December one may enjoy it. In September
and October it is generally deliciously warm, and I have gone in half a
dozen times a day. A good swimmer can cross the stream, if he does not lose
his head, for the current is powerful, and one is borne down far faster
than he imagines, and it is much further across than it seems to be.
Several times, when I have wanted to cross, and there was no boat, I have
swam across to the other side, wearing my shirt and trousers and carrying
my boots slung around my neck. But it is, hard work and scarcely worth the
risk.
An Exciting Swim. Last year at the foot of the Red Canyon Trail, I had two
most delightful swims - one on the night of the arrival of our party, the
other by starlight next morning. Though there is an ugly rapid at this
place, one may go up stream far enough to get away from danger, for a
half-moon-shaped mass of rock affords safe shelter, and deep enough water
for swimming. The night swim was so refreshing that I could not resist the
allurement to take another in the morning, before we left camp.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 77 of 85
Words from 77377 to 78378
of 85893
