The Grand Canyon of Arizona [107]
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,
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,