SNOW IN THE PASS. 
39 
of the guide, who had represented this route as “ without a hill,” the party ascended a high peak 
and looked down upon the extensive plains, over which, for a month, we had wound our way. 
The view was majestically beautiful, with the Huerfano, Cuchara and Apishpa at their feet, 
and towering mountains to the north and south, with the valley of San Luis to the west. De¬ 
scending again to the stream they had left, and finding that about ten miles from its head they 
were, by barometer, higher than on the Sangre de Cristo Pass, and that the gorge was very wind¬ 
ing and narrow, they turned back from their southern course for two miles, and then rode up hill 
for two hours, much of the w^ay steep and stony, and arrived at the summit of the ridge, “where 
one could look almost vertically down on the heads of creeks of the Cuchara—one of which 
winds under Bald mountain, considerably to the south of the Spanish Peaks, where there is a not 
inviting depression, entirely impracticable for a road.” The party passed over fine grassed 
slopes, and through groves of branching pine and aspen. In descending they came upon a fresh 
trail, “ which had been made by a party of hunters from Taos, who had crossed by the Culebra 
Pass to the head of the Cuchara, and obtained pack-loads of venison. These men travel a hun¬ 
dred miles, kill the game and pack it on asses, taking from ten to twelve days to procure the 
load, and four to return to market. They use no salt, and only cover the meat to keep it from 
the flies. At night they spread out the quarters and saddles on the ground, and lie down among 
them to protect them from the dogs and wolves. And notwithstanding the daily occurrence of 
showers about the highest peaks of the mountains, the dryness of the atmosphere is such that the 
meat is well preserved.” 
At a late hour, after a fourteen hours’ ride, the party arrived at Mr. Williams’ herd-grounds on 
the Sangre de Cristo, Captain Gunnison being quite ill. They dined with the master of the rancho 
on milk and tole, or parched corn-meal pudding, and slept under his awning on buffalo-robes. 
Captain Gunnison was quite restored by the kind attentions of Mr. Taplin and his host, from a 
severe attack of inflammatory rheumatism, which had been greatly aggravated by sleeping out 
at night with the gentlemen of his party, in exploring the Sangre de Cristo Pass. 
The information gained in regard to the snow which falls in El Sangre de Cristo Pass and 
valley of San Luis, is conflicting. Massalino, our guide through the pass, states that he crossed 
it in February last, a winter of unprecedented severity and great fall of snow; that he was seven 
or eight days in making the crossing, which is usually made in two—the dry snow being ten feet 
deep in the ravines, while the ridges were nearly bare. Antoine Leroux, on the contrary, rep¬ 
resents it generally as unusually free from snow for a mountain pass, which can be crossed with 
facility during the severest storms. The officers of the army stationed at Fort Massachusetts, 
which is situated just under the Sierra Blanca, in a sheltered valley on Utah creek, about seven¬ 
teen miles from the summit of the pass, represent the snow, which is usually very dry, to have 
been in the valley about them, during the past winter, about two feet in depth. Once during our 
stay in this vicinity, during a thunder-storm on the lower peaks, those more elevated were 
covered with a beautiful mantle of white. There are no evidences of snow-slides or avalanches 
about the pass. 
Our recent experience in exploring a wild mountainous country without guides, was such as to 
show the necessity of profiting by the practical lessons in geography gained in the school of the 
trapper and hunter, by that useful class of mountaineers who have spent many years of their 
lives in encountering the hardships and imminent dangers hourly incident to their occupation in 
these fields of savage barbarity, short-lived gratitude and native grandeur, which are annually 
stained by the sacrifice of some of their number as victims to unbridled ferocity. -Accompanied 
by Lieutenant Baker, I accordingly started on the 15th instant from our camp at the head of El 
Sangre de Cristo valley, for Taos, in New Mexico, the headquarters of many of the most reliable 
and experienced of these mountain men. Leaving camp, we passed rapidly down the Sangre de 
Cristo for ten miles, and entering the broad and extensive valley of Sail Luis, hemmed in on 
either side by high mountains, and traversed by the Rio Grande del Norte and its mountain 
