--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Stewart, George M. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 23 number: 7 published: 1920-05 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Stewart, George M., "Beauty Spots in Southern Utah," *Improvement Era* 23, no. 7 (May 1920): 599–603.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2307unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2307unse start_page: 599 end_page: 603 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1920-05) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2307unse publication_year: 1920 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1920, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Beauty Spots in Southern Utah Beauty Spots in Southern Utah Geo. Stewart, M. S., in charge of Field Crop Investigations, Utah Experiment Station Whoever visits southern Utah never forgets it. He may never have had a realizing sense of a cliff a thousand feet in height; he may never have wished for one. Having, however, once felt this sublime immensity, he has an abiding faith in a God of power. He has gasped at the naked grandeur and rev- eled in the stir of might. In the evening and morning twi- lights he has been translated from out his selfish shell and has Photo by George Stewart A dry water notch. From the road between La Verkin and Virgin City. The notch is three miles or more distant. stood almost in the presence of revealed divinity. He knows what it is to be lifted above the wear and tear of daily grind. But this is not all. He knows that mountains may be flat on top and deep instead of high. In the north country moun- tains are made of strata that are torn and bent. There are no true mountains south of Nebo where the Wasatch range term- inates in a heap. Everything south and southeast of this snow- crowned peak is flat on top. The so-called mountain ranges are merely great fault scarps, on one side of which a tremen- 600 IMPROVEMENT ERA dous block has been uplifted, sometimes as much as 5,000 feet, as in the neighborhood of Cedar and Parowan, for example. Some distance east of Cedar the Markagunt plateau reaches well above 11,000 feet and is capped with volcanic outpouring which protects and preserves it. Southward from the brim of this vast terrace a person can look far out toward the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. Between, however, are several ter- races miles in extent, each ending in a long line of immense cliffs. About midway, in respect both to distance and to geolog- ical height, is a vast terrace of massive gray and red sand- stones belonging to the geologic periods known as Triassic and Jurassic. This great terrace of sandstone is some three or four thousand feet in thickness. Here and there, where its edges are exposed, can be seen thinner strips of white, gypsum-like beds. These weather back faster than the sand- stone and consequently serve to emphasize the perpendicularity of the cliffs. This great table- land is underlaid with softer shales and sands which weather faster. The edge of this sandstone plateau is a long line of vermilion cliffs, named from their color. From the vicinity of Cedar they run south- westward to the upper Virgin and then sweep to the eastward far be- yond Kanab. Streams flowing into the Colora- Photo by George Stewart do have cut deep can- Cliffs onthe west wall of Zion Canyon. yons into this line of Note the relative size of trees in base of cliffs. Probably these cliffs. Lines of vertical cleavage and tend- streams were in their ency to form arches are also easily seen. present beds when the uplift of the plateaus began, and have, in the ages that fol- lowed, filed their way through by means of sand grains rasp- — BEAUTY SPOTS IN SOUTHERN UTAH 601 ing contiually at the stream beds. Deepening processes have been aided by the great joints, or fractures, which run verti- cally from top to bottom, but usually not forming continuous crevices throughout. The most magnificent of all these im- bedded streams is the Mukuntuweap, or north branch of the Rio Virgin. It flows straight southward from the Markagunt and Kolob plateaus and cuts through the great bed of Triassic and Jurassic sandstones. Its valley, famous throughout south- — — ern Utah and before long throughout America is known as Little Zion's Canyon, the chief center of interest in the newly created Zion National Park. //. Little Zion Canyon It was August and burning hot at midday, though the nights were cool and the early mornings chilly. Leaving Cedar at noon we soon passed Kanarra and out of the Great Basin. The way was down Black Canyon to Anderson and along the great fault scarp of the Hurricane Ledge to Toquerville and La Verkin. Here we turned abruptly eastward and left the Blue Pine Valley mountains in the west. Up and ever upward Our good "lizzie" climbed for more than a thousand feet along a well-graded forest road. The sun was sinking low when we mounted the last grade and ran out on top of the plateau. The valley of the Virgin lay amazingly far below. A line of red cliffs was in sight a half-dozen miles to the left. A few minutes sent us gliding around a broad swell, and directly ahead there burst upon us the grandest of views. Just where the horizon should have slipped into indistinctness there flamed the sun- lit cap of a broad-domed butte. The base seemed brilliant ver- milion and gold carrying a mass of white which rounded up- ward to the middle. Right on the crest there burned a disk of cheerful red. The sinking sun set all afire with shafts of con- centrated light. It was like a thousand rainbows squeezed into one point, intensified and illuminated, but with only the reds, yellows, and oranges visible in subdued yet amplified richness. When the period of semi-consciousness gave place to open- eyed wonder, we beheld a cloud of beautiful green climbing like vines upward from the base, and delicately fading into the azure warmth of evening sky. Such was our first view of the West Temple of the Virgin. I have gazed in wonder into the fretted intricacy of Bryce Canyon, have wondered for hours in the spell of Niagara's power, have steeped in the reverie of summer moonlight on Lake Erie, and have been stirred to the inmost depths by the hazy splendor of Mt. Shasta. Mysterious, stupefying, dream- laden and glorified as was each of these in turn, they were 602 IMPROVEMENT ERA pitiful beside this wonderful display of unstinted splendor. It was sublime. During the next half hour the vision maintained its glow- ing warmth. As the sun touched the western horizon, the dis- play began to abate, but not so the grandeur of the scene. Soft- ened half tones of twilight crept in. All the brilliancy was gone but none of the intensity. As we drew near, the butte grew ever broader and taller. Soon it towered above us and seemed to reach the very heavens. Twilight splendor burned down to an evening glow that was even more enchanting. Then we passed beyond the foot of the butte and turned northward up the valley of the Little Zion. To the right loomed the East Temple, and on the left the Three Patriarchs. Far ahead the cliffs seemed to creep upon each other. A few humble farmsteads and pole fences stood out plainly against the shamrock green of alfalfa fields. Ever* above towered the two long lines of precipices. Just as dark- ness surrounded us, the valley suddenly squared out into an Photo by George Stewart Left: Looking up the canyon El Gobernador in the right background, and a red sandstone boulder in the foreground. Right: At the mouth of the narrows. A few hundred yards abovd this point the canyon is 2,500 feet deep and 20 feet wide at the bottonn Only about 10 degress of sky is visible. BEAUTY SPOTS IN SOUTHERN UTAH 603 immense amphitheater. A moment more and Mr. Wylie wel- comed us to the camp. Soon we were doing full justice to the most delicious chicken supper Mrs. Wylie ever served. Just as we finished eating Mr. Wylie called us out to see the on-coming moon. Far overhead to the west a silver glow seized the top of the ledges and stole softly downward. Two hours later it still hung far up the cliffs as if in promise of a magnificent monnrise. Sleep pulled so heavily at our eyelids that we drew our tent flaps and slumbered till daylight. In an instant we were up and out in the sand. The white- capped crest of Angel's Landing was tipped with sunrise. While we searched the cliffs, the Three Patriarchs took fire and then the whole western curtain of rock. Breakfast bell jingled across the sanded floor of the amphitheater. Horses bridled and saddled awaited us, and we began at once to explore. In a half mile the canyon turned suddenly to the right and "Cable" Cliff showed his great broad face; a rope of steel ran up out of sight. Down this, lumber came from the plateau 3,100 feet above, to the farms and settle- ments below; the cable is a shortcut to wood and timber. Some- where just above is a sawmill and plenty of cattle feed. A trail permits men and animals to make the laborious ascent. A hundred yards beyond, an overhanging, moss-covered cliff drips out its sorrow. "Weeping" Rock is green and soft. A trail leads behind the drip and under the brow of the cliff. The water drops have worn a pool in the sandstone. This de- with the lure of coolness and of elf land. licious mist entices We would scarcely have been surprised had a fairy skitted the dripping pool. Half drenched we tore ourselves away and rode up to the narrows. Here the stream, occupying the entire width, com- pelled us to leave our horses. Three cottonwoods felled across each other made a bridge. The roaring Mukuntuweap lashed the immense boulders in its bed until talking would have been impossible had it occurred to us to speak. Creeping over fallen trees and around points of rock, we worked our way upstream for a couple of hundred yards, there to be blocked by the full wash of the river against our bank. Daylight was limited to a band of sky that was visible in not more than 10 degrees of the zenith. After an hour we regained our horses and reluct- antly rode back to camp for a late dinner. A warm shower-bath refreshed us, for the day was hot, glaringly hot in the broader places. A pipe of iron carries the water across the hot sand to the bath house. Baths may follow every few minutes all afternoon. Having bathed and eaten,