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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



Photograph from Harriet Chalmers Adams 



SWINGING ACROSS THE COLORADO RIVER GORGE ON A WIRE 



CABLE 



This method of crossing the canyon was employed during the work 

 of constructing the suspension bridge. 



Hanging galvanized steel cables, 

 clamped to the main lines above, carry 

 the wood floor of the bridge. A seven- 

 foot wire meshing is strung along the 

 sides as a protection for animals and 

 pedestrians. 



The bridge is 60 feet above the river 

 in normal flow and 13 feet above the 

 highest known water-mark in June 

 floods. This is the only bridging of the 

 Colorado above Xeedles, California, 360 

 miles to the south by river curve, as you 

 "step it off" on the map. 



Now for the bridge crew. Never have 

 I seen a finer-looking lot of men — typical 



Americans, brawny 

 and bronzed, not a 

 pound overweight. 

 One used to be a lum- 

 ber cruiser in Alaska; 

 another has mined in 

 southern Chile ; a third 

 was a cowboy "before 

 they fenced in the 

 whole bloomin' South- 

 west." One is an ama- 

 teur astronomer, who 

 spends his evenings 

 with his telescope 

 under the stars. He 

 says you can see the 

 stars better from the 

 depths of a canyon. 

 Several go in for pho- 

 tography. One has a 

 gift for whistling and 

 can imitate the bird 

 calls. There is a good 

 bit of poetry and ad- 

 venture nailed into the 

 Grand Canyon bridge. 

 Night in the Granite 

 Gorge of the Colorado ! 

 They gave me the tool 

 and meat tent for an 

 abode. I recalled a 

 game we played in 

 childhood, "Heavy, 

 heavy, hangs over your 

 head !" It turned out 

 to be the bacon. The 

 framework of my tent 

 was formerly the iron 

 cage in which the in- 

 frequent traveler 

 crossed the river by 

 cable. Colonel Roosevelt crossed in this 

 way on his ride up to the Kaibab forest. 



A DEEP, MASTERFUL, SUEEEN RIVER 



When the camp slept and moonlight 

 flooded the gorge, I slipped out of my 

 sleeping-bag and walked to the river. 

 The Colorado is a deep, masterful 

 stream, sullen, unfriendly. No habita- 

 tions border its canyon shores. It has a 

 flow of 20,000 cubic feet per second, 

 reaching a maximum of 200,000 cubic 

 feet. By day its walls take on a strange, 

 reddish-purple glow, but by moonlight 

 they were softly pink. A weird rock, 



