Inside The Magic Circle

ARIZONA HIGHWAYS INSIDE THE MAGIC CIRCLE

As we sat ruminating over the wal-nuts and grape-juice, Jennison strolled in. "Where are you going for your vacation, fellows?" he in-quired.

"Any recommendations?" I asked.

"Yes," was his answer. "Have you ever been inside the Magic Circle?"

"What have you?" was the simultaneous response from the four members of our party.

Jennison drew a map from his pocket of the Western States, showing the location of the National Parks and Monuments.

"Get me a saucer," he said, "and a pencil."

Turning the saucer on its face, he drew a ring around a portion of the States of Arizona, Utah, and Nevada. Lifting the saucer, he said: "Inside that circle is magic: the greatest things you men ever saw, if you have never been there."

A general denial on our part having followed, he said, "Go to the Touring Bureau of the Automobile Club of South-ern California, get full directions and maps, and don't rest until you cover that territory."

"What is it like?" we asked.

"I couldn't tell you," said Jennison. "It simply swept me off my feet.' "What did you bring back with you?' I asked him.

"Nothing but the thrill of a life-time," was his response.

The next day saw us making inquiries and we were told that beginning at Williams, Arizona, a ring drawn up-wards and outwards through Arizona and on into Utah, and eastern Nevada, and around to the point of its commencement in Arizona, enclosed, as in a wheel, a panorama of marvelous scenery and traditional interest unparalleled on the globe.

AWE-INSPIRING WONDERS

Not that it included all of the outdoor wonders of these three States; nor that many other States of the Union were not famous for picturesque and legendary marvels; but that in this stated boundary, more than in any other similar circumference, there were more unique, beautiful, colossal and awe-in-spiring pictures in Nature's galleries than anywhere else in the known world. That within the magic circle indicated, was embraced the Grand Canyon of the Colorado at the South, North and East Rims, the Kaibab National Forest, Bryce Canyon, Little Bryce Canyon, Cedar Breaks, and Zion Canyon, as its stellar phenomena.

These, with Red and Cathedral Can-yons, the Navajo National Monument, the Sevier River Valley, Walnut Canyon National Monument, the Hopi Indian Villages, the Wupatki National Monu-ment, the old Mormon Fort at Pipe Springs, the Boulder Dam Site, and the Lost City, the last two in Nevada, were some of the lesser attractions. Together, they constituted, it was claim-ed, an area unchallenged for a triumph-ant pagentry of scenery and history which passed comprehension until view-ed, a region that defied, the ingenuity of the writer, or the brush of the artist, to portray adequately.

Aspens on Rim of Grand Canyon

Leaving the patio of the Automobile Club of Southern California at 11:50 o'clock at night, our party evaded the desert heat by driving all night, break-fasting at Needles, and continuing on through Ashfork, to Williams, Arizona. From there, we turned north to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. This gulf of the Titans has been wrongly named. It should have been called the Grand Chasm. Canyon it is not, and never was, nor is Bryce Canyon a true canyon in the most accurate sense of the term, as are Zion and Yosemite Canyons.

The view from the precipitous edges of the South Rim is one that suggests some of the drawings of Dore, depict-ing certain phases of Dante's "Inferno." Miles upon miles of templed monsters, seared and scarred by centuries of erosion, stand grimly contemptuous of time and eternity, worn into grotesque shapes by the wind, sun and rain, of uncounted centuries.

IN HEART OF DESERT

Swinging southeast that afternoon, we passed Cameron, and reaching Tuba City, laid over for the night. Here we found ourselves in the heart of the desert. Indian rugs, Indian bows and arrows, and an atmosphere of the wide and lonely spaces enveloped the hos-pitable walls of our stopping-place. Morning came with a wide-spread, brick-red glow from eastern gate-ways, and the hot sun, furnace-breathing over sagebrush and greasewood covered wil-derness, bore down relentlessly on the world beneath.

Here at Tuba City were the evidences of that strange, proud, reticent tribe, the Navajos. Impatient of the trammels of agriculture, true nomads of flocks and herds, their photographs on the walls bespoke a superior race of bar-barians; if, indeed, our boasted civiliza-tion is anything more than a higher barbarism.

Page Six ARIZONA HIGHWAYS AUGUST, 1929

Our next objective was the newly-opened Grand Canyon highway bridge across the Colorado River at Marble Gorge. This superb engineering feat marks the erection of the second highest bridge of the kind ever constructed, it being 467 feet above the river, and built entirely of steel and re-inforced concrete. From the center, as our car halted, we could see the tawny current of the Colorado flowing by sullenly, as though its turbid waters conveyed a latent threat as they hurried past. As we stopped to view the structure on the other side, an old Navajo was looking stolidly at the bridge. Near its site in time gone by, the rude ferry operated by John D. Lee, had crossed and recrossed the river for many years. When one of our party asked the Navajo what he thought of the huge steel arch, he said, with an expressive sweep of his hand, "Ferry all gone, bridge never go." It was a true prophecy on his part, This took us through the Kaibab Forest, with its growth of pine, scrub cedar, and groves of quaking aspen, where we found the road very travelable. In the small open patches of grass-land and in the larger meadows, we saw many deer, counting altogether 958 in the trip to our destination. They were as tame as cattle, feeding at times with the native stock, and scarcely lifting their heads as we drove past them. At one pond, a stately buck lifted his head from the water, presenting a beautiful picture as he eyed us curiously. At a turn into the timber a white-tailed squirrel darted up a tall pine tree, and a buck and doe dashed through the trees in graceful flight, to disappear in a clump of quaking aspen, whose graceful forms seemed like nymphs and naaiads of the woods. A little further on we left the road in our automobile and "surrounded" a porcupine, who was making for the timber, and took a pic-ture of this fretful denizen of the out-doors.

brands of the dying sun. It was as inscrutable and mysterious as the riddle of creation itself. Books, stories, articles, sketches, eulogies, and poems have all been written in vain about this vast abyss, yet all that has been described is of no more consequence than the gibbering of apes by the Dead Sea. Why attempt to describe the indes-cribable? Why try to gild refined gold, or to paint the lily? You may have traversed the Alps and the Apennines; you may have viewed that dream of ivory in India, the Taj Mahal; you may have looked at Alaskan glaciers, the Falls of Niagara, the Yosemite Valley, the Mississippi and the Amazon Rivers, and the cataracts of the Nile. It may have been your lot to travel in the South Seas, and to let your gaze rest upon the snowy summit of Mount Fujiyama, but when your vision for the first time encounters the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, you will realize instantly its unmatched immensity, its power, and its menacing individuality. It seems to hold eternity in its grasp. The ghosts of vanished aeons hover about it, and over its winding cleft might well be written, "I am whatever is, whatever has been and

IN THE KAIBAB FOREST

Turning southwest in the blazing light of the afternoon sun, we started for the North Rim of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, which stands one thousand feet higher than the South Rim.

AUGUST, 1929 whatever shall be; and the veil that hides my face no man's hand has ever lifted."

MYSTERY UNSOLVED

True, indeed, that the scientists, geologists, scholars, savants, and wise men have studied and dissected its stratas and traced, with varying opinions, its origin. Learnedly and persuasively, they have mapped out the different eras and ages in which the Canyon was developed, the varieties of rock and material it contains, and its geological history from the dawn of creation to the present; but all such mere mortal endeavor does not reach the heart of the mystery. Erosion, by water, wind, sun and rain, has undoubtedly been responsible for much, and possibly all of this tremendous spectacle. But back of that, and back of all, what is, or was, the power that man has never divined, that impenetrable secret never yet revealed? The most and the least you can say of the Grand Canyon is that it is unsolvable. To any way imagine it, feel it, or find it, even in the vaguest sense, you must see the miracle yourself.

ARIZONA HIGHWAYS

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Fredonia and Kanab until we came to Bryce Canyon Lodge. There we had time to walk a short distance from the Lodge and see the sunset lighting the arches, statues, palaces, and varied wonders of the canyon. And here again description fails. All the adjectives and synonyms in the dictionary and Roget's Thesaurus are futile in attempting to convey any idea of the glory of such a scene. If you are of an imaginative temperment you will have great difficulty in sleeping the first night after you have looked on this vision of enchantment. All the colors of the rainbow and more are splashed on a canvas of glittering and impassive rock in such kaleidoscopic glow that you are dazed by its brilliance.When you lie down at night the scene follows you, and you feel that you have looked on fairyland. Castles, grottos, arches, knights, bishops, tur rets, battlements, chessmen, and a myriad shapes and configurations dance beforé your eyes, all steeped and bathed in a light as bright as it appears unreal.

"The light that never was on sea or land, "The consecration, and the Poets dream."

From the North Rim we drove through

IMPRESSION INDESCRIBABLE

It is impossible to depict the impression produced in viewing Bryce Canyon for the first time, as the last red arrows of day strike it. The effect is almost blinding in its intensity. Turning your back on it, and looking at the trees away from the Canyon, you will "come back to earth." Butgazing once more in this illuminated bowl, where all the hues that were ever mixed on Nature's palette, are spread in wild profusion, you begin again to think that you are in dreamland. Descending to the bottom of the Canyon, you will find yourself in a crypt enclosed by lofty walls of stone. Here are trees that seem to spring from the solid rocks, rising straight and solemn toward the sky overhead. Here in the windings of the narrow pathway, the silence is deeper than words can express, for the involutions and convolutions of the trail breathe a quiet more pronounced and more solemn than the tomb. And looking from these recesses, from below in the Canyon, one will note violet-blue glimpses of cloudless skies on high, together with strange shapes and fantastic sculpture, tinted in various colors, etched on the ledges and escarp-ments that hang along the Canyon's rim.

Old Mormon Fort at Pipe Springs

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Leaving Bryce Canyon the next day, we started for Zion National Park. At Pipe Springs, originally named, so the legend goes, Windsor Castle, we halted. Here is the material for an epic! The ruins of the old Mormon fort have been restored, and it stands as it did when first built in 1870. What a monument! As you enter the door you are met with a striking picture of Brigham Young, framed and hung against the wall. He was the Lion of Mormonism. He appears in this photograph as clad in modern dress, and the Gibralter-like massiveness of his jaw and chin denote a man of unconquerable will and courage. The head is large, as is the physique. His is the face and form of a born leader of men.

Turn back to 1870, some 59 years ago. Here in this spot, a double structure of “red sandstone, with super-heavy timbers joining the two buildings with a pair of solidly-constructed gates, it stood a veritable frontier fortress. It has within its gates a cold-flowing spring, discharging more than 100,000 gallons daily. Together with this supply of pure water, the storage of food and fuel in the ample confines of the court made starving out the garrison an impossibility. Nothing short of cannon could have battered down its walls or ponderous gates, and it was fire-proof as well. It loomed there defying the Ishmaelites of the desert, either white or red, and the elements of nature. Below it, on the plains, the flocks and herds of the Mormons grazed, and herders equipped with mirrors, as well as rifles, and situated long distances apart, kept watch and ward.

ARIZONA HIGHWAYS ALARM MESSAGES FLASHED

At the approach or suggestion of impending danger, heliograph messages were flashed from point to point by the mirrors in the hands of the herders, and thence to the fort. The herds were driven in, the men from the fort sallying out to aid the herders. No surprise could be sprung on the Mormons, as the plain was open for many miles, and the movements of mounted raiders could be readily detected.

It was a life of vigilance, peril and resolute daring on the part of the fort's inmates, and well and valiantly they kept the faith. On an old desk in the fort, is a scrawled notification that here one of these hardy pioneers had set down the names and dates of birth ofhis fifty-six children, most of them born in these primitive surroundings.

AUGUST, 1929

Leaving Pipe Springs, we headed for Zion National Park and its celebrated Canyon. Much descriptive matter has been wasted in attempting to delineate the splendor and dignity of this magic area. It is manifestly impossible to employ language which would even faintly indicate what the canyon is like; for the simple reason that it is unlike any spectacle in the entire universe. So dominant are its peaks and pinnacles, so overpowering is its beauty and sublimity, that creative talent, whether of brush or pen, stands baffled and abashed in its presence.

There never yet was eloquence of author, genius of painter, nor the inspiration of Poet, which could reincarnate, or even feebly suggest this architecture of the Almighty. Human imagination can neither comprehend the awful power that reared these rocky thrones, nor convey to those who have not seen them, one jot or little of their surpassing loveliness.

To see Zion Canyon by moonlight is akin to wondering through the aisles of a temple of the Gods. To view it at dawn or sunset, torched by the rays of (Continued on page 16)