Until A Cascade Interrupts Our Progress

John Coltrane: Spiritual

John Coltrane: My Favorite Things

On starting,
we come at once
to difficult rapids
and falls, that,
in many places,
are more abrupt
than in any
of the canyons
through which
we have passed.
From morning until noon,
the course of the river
is to the west.
The scenery is grand,
with rapids and falls below,
and walls above,
beset with crags
and pinnacles.
Just at noon
we wheel again
to the south,
and go into camp for dinner.

While the cook
is preparing it,
Bradley, Sumner
and myself
go into a side canyon
that comes in at this point.
We enter through
a very narrow passage,
having to wade along
the course of
a little stream
until a cascade
interrupts our progress.
Then we climb to the right,
for a hundred feet,
until we reach
a little shelf,
along which we pass,
walking with great care,
for it is narrow,
until we pass
around the fall.
Here the gorge widens into a spacious, sky-roofed chamber. In the farther end is a beautiful grove of cottonwoods, and between us and the cottonwoods the little stream widens out into three clear lakelets, with bottoms of smooth rock. Beyond the cottonwoods the brook tumbles in a series of white, shining cascades, from heights that seem immeasurable. Turning around, we can look through the cleft through which we came, and see the river, with towering walls beyond. What a chamber for a resting place is this! hewn from the solid rock; the heavens for a ceiling; cascade fountains within; a grove in the conservatory, clear lakelets for a refreshing bath, and an outlook through the doorway on a raging river, with cliffs and mountains beyond.
Our way, after dinner, is through a gorge, grand beyond description. The walls are nearly vertical; the river broad and swift, but free from rocks and falls. At this great depth, the river rolls in solemn majesty...

--John Wesley Powell
journal entry for July 23, 1869