|
|
|
Grand Junction, CO to Green River, UT (U.S.G.S. Bulletin 707, 1922) MAIN LINE OF RAILROAD FROM GRAND JUNCTION TO GREEN RIVER. A short distance west of the station at Grand Junction the traveler's view of the valley is fairly unobstructed, and he obtains an attractive setting for the picture of the town (see Sheet 7). The existence, of this valley is due to geologic causes which can be easily understood by a traveler who desires to know something of the character of the rocks and of their attitude, or, as the geologist would say, the geologic structure. The lowest and therefore the oldest rocks lie in the great Uncompahgre Plateau or arch, which lies south of Grand Junction; the youngest rocks lie in the basin to the north and are generally known as the Green River formation. The dip of the rocks as they would appear in the sides of a great ditch, if one were cut from the top of the Uncompahgre Plateau to the middle of the Uinta Basin to the north, is shown in the figure.
As the traveler goes westward he sees that the, Book Cliffs recede farther and farther
from the river, and about 10 miles west of Grand Junction they begin to lose some of their
picturesqueness on account of their distance from the observer. The red cliffs on the
south become more prominent and are much more dissected into fantastic forms than they are
south of Grand Junction. About 11 miles west of Grand Junction the pillars, towers,
buttresses, columns, and domes become so striking that an area including them, opposite
Fruita, has been set aside by the Federal Government as the Colorado Just west of Fruita the railroad crosses Little Salt Wash and Salt Wash, two streams that head at the base of the Book Cliffs, about 20 miles to the north. The term " wash " is applied in the West to a stream or to the bed of a stream that is generally intermittent and that carries so much material that it clogs its own channel and is thus compelled to wander over a wide area. In some places where these streams are crossed by the railroad they have cut deep channels that have nearly vertical sides. Ordinarily very little water flows in these washes, but occasionally heavy rains or cloudbursts in the foothills send down a torrent that sweeps like a wall of water down the valley. The flood crumbles the banks of soft shale and clay, sweeps away bridges, uproots orchards and crops, and produces general devastation, although the rain that caused all this destruction may have been limited entirely to the foothill belt, none, having fallen where the damage is done. Loma Mack Ruby The sandstone which rises above water level just below Ruby siding is massive - that
is, it is almost without bedding planes or of separation-and consequently it makes a
canyon which has smooth nearly vertical walls (Pl. LXXIX).
The color, except in uppermost layer, about 100 feet thick, is decidedly red, so that
general the canyon walls are a bright red, and the name Ruby is appropriate. A close look
at the sandstone will show that it not evenly banded like many of the sandstones in the
region to east, but that the marks along the edges of the beds-which indicate the form of
the layers in which the sand was laid down-dip at all angles, or rather are generally
curved, showing that the sand carried into the place where it was deposited by strong
currents of air or water, which cut away much of the sand that had been formerly laid down
and in its place deposited layer after layer in curved position. This process is termed
cross-bedding. These beds were all laid down on the land, or at least no marine fossils
have been found in them. Although the river has been the principal agent in carving Ruby Canyon it has not done
all the work for the moisture in the atmosphere and the sand blown by the winds are very
active in wearing away the rocks. The results of the work of both of these agents may be
seen at many places. The moisture in the atmosphere dissolves the cementing material that
binds the grains of sand together, and the wind mechanically removes the loosened grains.
These agencies acting together eat out cavities in the canyon wall, most of them small,
though here and there one is excavated into an immense alcove having an arched roof.
Wind-driven sand cuts the hard rock like a sand blast, and as the texture of the rocks
differs from point to point the cutting has produced grotesque, fantastic forms. At some
places the sand blast has cut the finest fretwork; at others it has simply rounded off
projecting points of rock so that they stand out as great domes or circular minarets. Many
such features cap the solid canyon wall, but they are so far above the track that the
traveler can see them only as he looks ahead at some projecting spur or back at the
disappearing view. At one place a group of columns on a salient point on the canyon wall
resembles a procession of Egyptian figures, as shown in the ornamentation of their
temples, and consequently these are known as " The Egyptian Priests." Utaline Westwater About a mile from Westwater the railroad crosses Cottonwood Creek, which heads in the foothills of the Book Cliffs. The road extends up one of the branches of this creek to the divide between it and some other small streams on the west. In climbing, however, the traveler sees the same rocks at the level of the track, for the rocks rise toward the west in a great fold that brings up the red sandstone again below Westwater. So, when the traveler reaches the siding of Cottonwood, which is at the summit, the beds which he sees are of the same age as those which he saw at the crossing of Cottonwood Creek, 4 miles to the east. After journeying through the canyon for about 20 miles the traveler will probably be
glad to leave it and to gain the upland, where he may see something more than rugged rock
walls and muddy river. If the vegetation on the upland is not parched and dried by the
summer's heat, the sego lily, Utah's floral emblem [the Sego Lily) may be seen here and
there lifting its delicate head, though it stands so close to the ground that it is
difficult to identify from the moving train. The wide expanse of upland also enables one
to see the larger features of the surrounding landscape. One of the first objects to catch
the eye on the left is a distant group of mountain peaks-the La Sal Mountains-whose
highest point reaches an altitude of about 13,000 feet. One unaccustomed to judging
distances in the clear air of an and country can not say whether these mountains when
first seen are 10 or 50 miles away, but careful measurement has shown that the nearest
peak is about 30 miles distant. This mountain group was formed by the uplifting of the
rocks in a great domelike mass, and if the light is just right the traveler may see the
great cliff-like wall of red sandstone, with which he is now becoming familiar, on the
east side of the mountains, where it has been uptilted by the movement. This group of
mountains will be in sight for some time, and a little farther west it can be seen to
better advantage. The low hills of McElmo rocks seem endless, but finally they are passed, and at milepost 501 the railroad cuts through the Dakota sandstone, which dips about 30 degrees W. Next it enters the Mancos shale, which the traveler last saw at Mack, before he entered Ruby Canyon, and the features of the surface now become more subdued and softer, and he has a better opportunity to see what surrounds him. To the north he will see the familiar Book Cliffs, but they are so far away that their character is scarcely apparent. However, they swing to the south around the great anticlinal point through which Ruby Canyon is cut, and in 15 or 20 miles they will be so near the track that they can be clearly seen. At the place where the railroad crosses the Dakota sandstone, at milepost 501, it is within a mile of the great bend which Colorado River makes to the northwest, but despite its nearness the river lies so deep in its canyon that it is not visible from the train. Three miles beyond this point is the village of Cisco, which is one of the largest shearing and shipping points in this great sheep-herding country. One unfamiliar with this region might think that there was little or no pasturage here for even a sheep, but when rain falls the country is green with grass, and even in times of drought there are forage plants that might not be noticed by the unaccustomed eye. After the train passes Cisco the La Sal Mountains are in plain sight, and the traveler may see the great red wall on the east and also the place where it is upturned and cut by the river between the railroad and the mountain. As seen from the train the country to the right of the La Sal Mountains is exceedingly rough and rugged, being cut into great canyons with vertical sides or left in giant blocks, also with vertical sides. In f act, the traveler is now approaching a region in which the expression of the topography is different from anything that he has yet seen, unless he is already acquainted with the country that was called by Powell the "Canyon lands." In this region Hogarth's line of beauty" is unknown. The slopes of the hills and mountains do not show gracefully curved lines from summits to bases, but each slope forms a straight line and unites with its neighbor in an angle and not a curve. The, valleys are all canyons, which either have vertical sides or sides composed of straight lines, and the intervening spurs are mesas with flat tops as shown in the following figure. A glance at the country on the right of the La Sal Mountains will show some of the angularity mentioned. [traveler may see some] slender towers of rock which the from the train. Although the La Sal Mountains have attracted much attention, another group of mountains, which are even more interesting, are slowly appearing above the horizon, far to the southwest. Where first seen, in the vicinity of Cisco, these mountains, named the Henry Mountains for Joseph Henry, the first Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington, are fully 100 miles distant. They are divided into three groups-the larger group at the north and two isolated peaks farther south. These mountains lie on the west side of Colorado River, which in this region flows in a canyon 1,000 feet deep. Beyond Cisco the railroad curves here and there over the shale upland, steadily approaching the foot of the Book Cliffs. (See sheet 8). As it nears the cliffs it seems to be lost in a maze of small shale hills, as shown in Plate LXXXII B, but in places one may catch glimpses through them of the ragged front of the cliffs. Viewed from a distance the Book Cliffs look like a regular mountain front, but viewed near by they are seen to be made up of a series of terraces or benches, each bench being formed by some hard bed of sandstone more resistant to erosion than the beds above or below. Each bench is cut by streams into a number of salients, or teeth, which project far beyond the main mass of the cliffs. Behind and above the lowest row of salients there may be a second row, formed by a similar hard bed, and in places there is a still higher row of salients, formed by a third hard bed. The resulting cliffs present 9, front that is very irregular in detail but very regular when viewed from a distance. A view along the front, showing the lower tier of salients, is given in the following figure. The lowest bench of the cliffs is formed by the lowest sandstone in the coal-bearing Mesaverde formation, and the slope below is composed of Mancos shale. This shale is very homogeneous in composition, and therefore on steep slopes it has been cut by many minute ravines, with a wealth of detail that is amazing to one unaccustomed to the effects of the erosion of rocks in a semiarid region. What infinite pains Nature apparently takes even in carving one of these commonplace hill slopes! This carving is, indeed, a work of art comparable to that of the most skillful sculptor.
As the traveler goes westward he finds many shale ridges, which form the divides between parallel stream valleys that head in the Book Cliffs. These, ridges have either flat tops or tops that slope regularly away from the front of the cliffs. The tops of the ridges stand from 80 to 100 feet above the general level of the plain and doubtless represent the surface of a former plain that stood that distance above the present surface. When that plain existed the streams could not cut deeper into it, and so the land was reduced to a gentle slope, but later the streams acquired greater cutting power and they have succeeded in eroding away most of the old plain except where it is best protected on the divides. What caused the increased cutting power of the streams is a. difficult question to answer. It may have been an uplift of the country, or it may have been a change ill climate by which the volume of water carried by the streams was greatly increased. After the train has passed through cuts made in two or three of these shale ridges it
reaches the village of Thompson,
or, as it was formerly called, Thompson's Springs, a name applied to it because 5 miles up
the canyon that opens at this place there are several springs which have been of great
value. In a dry country all settlement except on the railroad depends on the presence of
water, and in the early days Thompson's Springs were the chief source of supply for those
who were forced to make the trip across this inhospitable country. When the railroad was
built the springs were equally valuable as a source of supply for the locomotives, and
water was piped from them to the line of the road. For a long time Thompson owed its
prosperity to the water from these springs and to the business which it obtained as a
supply and shipping point for the sheep owners in the region about Moab, an old Mormon
town on Colorado River, 32 miles to the southeast.
The intricate sculpture of the shale that composes the lower slopes of the cliffs is well shown about a mile west of Thompson. By contrast with the curves in the sculpture of the shale the angularity of the forms of the land impresses the traveler more and more as he gazes off to the southwest while he is passing over the plain just west of Thompson. Seen from this plain the profiles of the distant plateaus appear extremely angular and show no flowing curves. The landscape looks as if it had been formed by the hand of a giant who carved it with an axe, cutting here and there great angular chunks out of the flat-lying rocks. A short distance west of a siding called Crescent the railroad cuts through a low ridge of shale, which is one of the remnants of the higher surface, and then begins the long descent to Green River. Immediately after cutting through the ridge the road turns to the north, and for about 10 miles it skirts the front of the Book Cliffs, running most of the way through badlands of soft shale that have been cut by rain and running water. It passes so near the cliffs that the traveler may see all the delicate fluting and also the sharp points of the salients which are protected by caps of heavy sandstone. Although the variety of details is infinite, the general similarity of the forms produced grows wearisome, and the traveler finally welcomes the emergence of the train from the badlands into the open plain, which leads down to Green River. This change occurs at a siding called Solitude, which indeed is rightly named. Here nothing is in sight but the endless expanse of plain covered with the stunted vegetation of the desert on the one side and the equally endless badlands on the other. To the eye of the sheep herder, however, this region is not desolate, for it affords fine feeding ground for his sheep. The impression of it, then, depends on the point of view; what the stranger sees as desolation no words can describe one familiar with the scene views without aversion and accepts at its real worth. Immediately after the train rounds the curve beyond Solitude the town of Greenriver
comes in sight, although it is almost 12 miles distant. At least the green trees in and
surrounding the town can be seen, but they are nearly straight ahead and the traveler may
have difficulty in locating them. As the traveler descends the smooth shale slope he can make out the point where Green River emerges from the mountainous country to the north by the deep reentrant in the line of the Book Cliffs. By close examination he may he able to see a butte on the west side of the river, which is marked by a series of pinnacles and which is known as Gunnison Butte, in commemoration of the survey of this region by Capt. Gunnison. (See Pl. LXXXII, C.) This butte towers 2,700 feet above the river, but as seen from the train it seems to be not more than 300 or 400 feet high. Very few published reports regarding the early exploration of this part of the country are available. Gannett refers to the early history as follows:
Thus it seems probable that while the original colonies on the Atlantic seaboard were waging their war for independence, Fathers Escalante and Dominguez were marking out the old Spanish trail and even crossing Colorado River at or near the same point where the travelers of today cross it on the trains of the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad. The next notable journey of exploration in this part of the country, at least by English-speaking people was that of Capt. Gunnison in 1853. He likewise crossed the river at this point, but after reaching the west bank he veered off to the south and followed the Spanish trail instead of the route now followed by the railroad. In its descent from the east the railroad runs into a shallow valley, which conceals the view of the surrounding country, and finally comes out on the east bank of Green River at a little village called Elgin. The change from the barren slopes of shale to the beautiful green of the cottonwood trees and the brilliant fields of alfalfa is very grateful to the traveler, and he welcomes the sight of running water. It is true that Green River is generally muddy, but even if it is he looks upon it with
pleasure and almost with reverence, because a stream of this size that can persist through
so many miles of semirid land excites curiosity and admiration. The river is spanned by
fine steel bridge (see Pl.
LXXXIII), and a mile farther west is a the station of Green River, an oasis in this
inhospitable desert, at the lowest point on the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad (see Sheet 8). In this region the summer temperature is
almost torrid and the precipitation is slight, probably about 6 or 7 inches annually.
Water has here been taken from Green River for the irrigation of a small area that has
been made to produce almost all kinds of crops and fruit. Fruit trees flourish here, as
shown in Plate LXXXIV.
A much larger area could be irrigated, though at much greater expense, by damming Green
River in the canyon far above the town and constructing expensive canals to carry the
water high up on the surrounding slopes. Sooner or later this work will be done, and then
Green River valley will rival Grand Junction in the acreage under cultivation and in the
abundance of its products. A few hundred feet west of the station at Greenriver the railroad has cut through the
dark shale at the base of the Mancos formation. If the traveler could have the opportunity
of leaving the railroad coach and of walking through this small cut he would find that
almost every fragment of shale is covered with impressions of shells. Experts who have
studied these shells say that at one time each was inhabited by an animal that lived in
the sea and that when the animal died the shell was filled with the dark mud that has
since been consolidated into shale. The form and all the delicate markings of these shells
have been well preserved. The general distribution of this shale in New Mexico,
northeastern Arizona, eastern Utah, Colorado Wyoming, Montana, North Dakota, and South
Dakota shows that the sea in which it was deposited must have been of great extent and
that the Rocky Mountains of to-day could not then have been in existence. Geologic
evidence over all the world shows that its surface has been continually changing. At one
time a region may be covered with water; at another time it may have been a plain much
like that which the traveler crossed east of Denver; and at still another time it may have
been high land, with mountains. Such a succession of changes has been repeated many times,
with infinite variations, through all the ages, and the present age, is no exception but
is also a scene of general change or transformation. Such a transformation is going on
to-day as in the past, but we are scarcely aware of it, for it is so slow that even during
the entire period of human history it has made but little progress.
|
|
© Copyright 2005 Sandia Software All Rights Reserved |