THE SANGRE DE CRISTOS 



BY ARTHUR H. CARHART 



THE Supervisor had staged the climax wonderfully 

 well. We had traveled all morning in the close 

 confines of the South and North Hardscrabble 

 canons. The last long climb had taken the auto which 

 carried us up 

 to saddle land 

 of the Green- 

 horn's back- 

 bone and there 



The San Isabel National Forest, in southern Colorado, is one of the most inter- 

 esting of all forests. Many types of scenery are in its offerings, but none are more 

 beautiful than the Sangre de Cristo range. It is nearly 100 miles long, extending from 

 the Arkansas river to near the southern boundary of the State. It is pronounced by 

 many the most beautiful mountain range in the world, and this may be due to the 

 presence of the broad valley on either side from which the range is viewed. Almost 

 every high peak in the range reaches 13,000 feet and at least five are over 14,000 feet. It 

 is exceptionally attractive to the mountaineer, for three of the peaks are very rarely 

 climbed. The beauty of the range when capped with snow is almost indescribable. 

 No master writer or painter has ever been here to record by pen or brush the dazzling 

 splendor of these peaks. It may be that this little article will bring one such the 

 few miles necessary from the beaten paths of the traveler to give to the world some 

 written or painted description of this sublime range of mountains. Arthur H. Car- 

 hart, Editor, Recreation Department. 



as we swung 

 around a turn 

 stood the most 

 majestic single 

 peak line moun- 

 tain range I 

 have ever seen 

 and probably 

 ever will see, 

 the Sangre de 

 Cristos. The 

 effect was as if one had been listening to the fantastic 

 playing of some barbaric dance on violin which had 

 gradually diminished until the muted strains had swung 

 to a theme of pleasant uplands and then a crashing, 



majestic full-toned triumphal march burst into full 

 harmonic melody in the theme of the Sangre de Cristos. 

 No orchestra, no orchestral band, no gigantic pipe organ 

 ever equaled the majesty of the theme which fairly 



, thundered up 



on us as we 

 swung around 

 the hill into the 

 view of this 

 mountain 

 range. 



There were 

 four of us in 

 the'party. The 

 car was driven 

 by Mr. A. G. 

 Hamel, super- 

 visor of the 

 San Isabel Na- 

 tional Forest, 

 and the man in whose care was intrusted this unmatched 

 grand symphony of marching mountains. The trip was 

 under his personal guideship and he had made us get 

 on the road early this day so we might see his pet moun- 



PART OF THE BEAUTIFUL SANGRE DE CRISTO RANGE FROM THE WET MOUNTAIN VALLEY 



"And then a crashing, majestic full-toned triumphal march burst into full harmonic melody in the theme of the Sangre de Cristos. No orchestra, 



no orchestral band, no gigantic pipe organ ever equaled the majesty oT the theme." 



