The Vermilion Cliffs

To this great wall, terminating the Triassic terrace and stretching from the Hurricane Ledge to the Paria, Powell has given the name of The Vermilion Cliffs. Their great altitude, the remarkable length of their line of frontage, the persistence with which their proportions are sustained throughout the entire interval, their ornate sculpture and rich coloring, might justify very exalted language of description. But to the southward, just where the desert surface dips downward beneath the horizon, are those supreme walls of the Grand Cañon, which we must hereafter behold and vainly strive to describe; and however worthy of admiration the Vermilion Cliffs may be we must be frugal of adjectives, lest in the chapters to be written we find their force and meaning exhausted. They will be weak and vapid enough at best. Yet there are portions of the Vermilion Cliffs which in some respects lay hold of the sensibilities with a force not much less overwhelming than the majesty of the Grand Cañon; not in the same way, not by virtue of the same elements of power and impressiveness, but in a way of their own and by attributes of their own. In mass and grandeur and in the extent of the display there is no comparison; it would be like comparing a private picture gallery containing a few priceless treasures with the wealth of art in the Vatican or Louvre.The profile of the Vermilion Cliffs is very complex, though conforming to a definite type and made up of simple elements. Although it varies much in different localities it never loses its typical character. It consists of a series of vertical ledges rising tier above tier, story above story, with intervening slopes covered with talus through which the beds project their fretted edges. The stratification is always revealed with perfect distinctness and is even emphasized by the peculiar weathering. The beds are very numerous and mostly of small or moderate thickness, and the partings of the sandstones include layers of gypsum or gypsiferous sand and shale. The weathering attacks these gypseous layers with great effect, dissolving them to a considerable depth into the wall-face, producing a deeply engraved line between the including sandstones.

Superlative cloud effects, common enough in other countries, are lamentably infrequent here; but, when they do come, their value is beyond measure. During the long, hot summer days, when the sun is high, the phenomenal features of the scenery are robbed of most of their grandeur, and cannot or do not wholly reveal to the observer the realities which render them so instructive and interesting. There are few middle tones of light and shade. The effects of foreshortening are excessive, almost beyond belief, and produce the strangest deceptions. Masses which are widely separated seem to be superposed or continuous. Lines and surfaces, which extend towards us at an acute angle with the radius of vision, are warped around until they seem to cross it at a right angle. Grand fronts, which ought to show depth and varying distance, become flat and are troubled with false perspective. Proportions which are full of grace and meaning are distorted and belied. During the midday hours the cliffs seem to wilt and droop as if retracting their grandeur to hide it from the merciless radiance of the sun whose very effulgence flouts them. But as the sun declines there comes a revival. The half-tones at length appear, bringing into relief the component masses; the amphitheaters recede into suggestive distances; the salients silently advance towards us; the distorted lines range themselves into true perspective; the deformed curves come back to their proper sweep; the angles grow clean and sharp; and the whole cliff arouses from lethargy and erects itself in grandeur and power, as if conscious of its own majesty. Back also come the colors, and as the sun is about to sink they glow with an intense orange-vermilion that seems to be an intrinsic luster emanating from the rocks themselves. But the great gala-days of the cliffs are those when sunshine and storm are waging an even battle; when the massive banks of clouds send their white diffuse light into the dark places and tone down the intense glare of the direct rays; when they roll over the summits in stately procession, wrapping them in vapor and revealing cloud-girt masses here and there through wide rifts. Then the truth appears and all deceptions are exposed. Their real grandeur, their true forms, and a just sense of their relations are at last fairly presented, so that the mind can grasp them. And they are very grand even sublime. There is no need, as we look upon them, of fancy to heighten the picture, nor of metaphor to present it. The simple truth is quite enough. I never before had a realizing sense of a cliff 1,800 to 2,000 feet high. I think I have a definite and abiding one at present.

Vermilion Cliffs near the Navajo Bridge. ANSEL ADAMS