And On The River Tumbles And Rolls

Fred Neil: The Other Side of This Life

We examine the rapids below.
Large rocks have fallen from
the walls--great, angular blocks,
which have rolled down the talus,
and are strewn along the channel.
We are compelled to make three portages in succession, the distance being less than three-fourths of a mile, with a fall of seventy-five feet. Among these rocks, in chutes, whirlpools, and great waves, with rushing breakers and foam, the water finds its way, still tumbling down. We stop for the night, only three-fourths of a mile below the last camp. A very hard day's work has been done, and at evening
I sit on a rock by the edge of the river, to look at the water, and listen to its roar. Hours ago,

deep shadows had settled into the canyon as the sun passed behind the cliffs. Now, doubtless, the sun has gone down, for we can see no glint of light on the crags above. Darkness is coming on. The waves are rolling, with crests of foam so white they seem almost to give a light of their own. Nearby, a chute of water strikes the foot of a great block of limestone, fifty feet high, and the waters pile up against it, and roll back. Where there are sunken rocks, the water heaps up in mounds, or even in cones.
At a point where rocks come very near the surface, the water forms a chute above, strikes, and is shot up ten or fifteen feet,
and piles back in gentle curves,
as in a fountain;
and on the river tumbles and rolls.
--John Wesley Powell
journal entry for July 24, 1869

BELOW HERMIT RAPID
SOCKDOLAGER RAPID
INNER GORGE FROM OUTSIDE SALT CANYON
CRYSTAL RAPID
POWELL PLATEAU FROM SERPENTINE RAPID