An Adventure for Adventure's Sake Recounted by Robert B. Aird

Robert B. Aird in Monument Valley, 1923. All photographs arefrom the Polly Aird Collection in the USHS Library.

An Adventure for Adventure's Sake Recounted by Robert B. Aird

EDITED BY GARY TOPPING

THE FOLLOWING NARRATIVE HAS BEEN ASSEMBLED from various materials in the Polly Aird Papers at the Utah State Historical Society. It is a firsthand account of two college boys who ventured into the back country of San Juan County, Utah, in the summer of 1923 in quest, as the title indicates, of an adventure for its own sake. Even as recently as 1923 San Juan County was a good place for an adventure, for it offered not only spectacular scenery, prehistoric sites, a physical environment to test both human and animal, but, as the narrative indicates, even leftover tensions from a recent Indian war. As things turned out, the adventurers got their wish. Although the trip produced no new scientific or geographic data, nor any imminent threat to life or limb, it is an engaging episode in the world's oldest story, the encounter of man and nature.

"Boys, I'd just as leave take you out and shoot you down, as let you go out there." Zeke Johnson, the most knowledgable backcountry guide in southeastern Utah,1 waved his arm "out there" to the West, toward the Natural Bridges to which, on June 28, 1923,we proposed to go.

Things had reached a climax, and although I had experienced the like on other trips and so more or less expected it, affairs indeed looked discouraging John Newell and I2 had just finished our stay at Deep Springs College in California3 and planned to spend our summer exploring the cliff dwellings and natural wonders of this remote section of the country, but now, in the little settlement of Blanding, on the very verge of the land we wished to see, it looked as though we would have to turn back For one thing, we could find no pack animals. The packers and guides had animals, but none for sale, and we refused to tie our hands with guides, packers, or even rented animals.

In addition, we learned that San Juan County had just passed through a bitter Indian-white conflict known as the Posey War, and that things were still tense enough to render travel away from the settlements by two unarmed young men inadvisable The Posey War, in fact, seemed to be the only subject of conversation in Blanding. Everyone had his own version of the story of forty years' pent-up frustration and tension that had erupted in the shooting deaths of two Indians, one of them Posey himself. The climate of fear and apprehension was pervasive And now Zeke Johnson's discouraging words threatened to deprive us even of the directions we needed to the Natural Bridges, to Monument Valley, and perhaps to the great Rainbow Bridge itself.4

The local wall of resistance began to crumble when Marion Hunt, a local forest ranger, offered us an old pony for fifteen dollars, and his son rounded up one of the wild burros that roamed through the town When others saw we were truly determined to go through with this adventure, suddenly advice, warnings, and help in getting ready came from all sides. Later the following day, we helped Zeke Johnson unload a rack of hay, and even he came through Sitting on the ground, he drew a crude map in the dirt and gave us directions and many helpful pointers, including Navajo expressions for "Where is water?" (Ha to?) and "Where is trail?" (Ha teen?).5 His map, directions, and language instructions indelibly imprinted on our minds, we departed with his precautionary warnings and blessing.

Our provisions must remain somewhat of a mystery, as my diary contains one inventory and John's diary two—all conflicting Our food included flour, baking powder, ham, bacon, dried fruits, beans, macaroni, cheese, chocolate, sugar, and other odds and ends We also had extra clothing, two water containers, and some basic medical supplies Our outfit was not without its absurdities, as things turned out: John had a .22 rifle he had purchased earlier for $9.75, and I had borrowed from my older brother a bolt action relic from the Franco-Prussian War John added an utterly useless fishing rod and three flies It was hard enough to find water on the trip, let alone fish! Our total outfit weighed about 140 pounds and was enough to last for two to three weeks, when we could resupply at Bluff or Mexican Hat With the animals and a pack saddle for the burro, our cash expenditures at Blanding were forty-seven dollars, which suggests that postwar inflation had not reached that community by 1923 John was frugal enough, but I, as a full-blooded Scot, may have relished this phase of the trip more than he!

Our first problem in taking off on June 30th was to break in the burro and this proved no easy task. The burro's kicking, scraping, and lying down required frequent repacking, and our first day out was both exciting and fatiguing. Enroute we were passed by an ancient Indian we had encountered on the edge of town. Mounted on a burro, with long white hair, a scraggly beard and wrinkled face, he personified to us the mystery of the Indian past His wife followed on a horse, while a small burro and a dog brought up the rear. He pointed out a seep spring to us which, considering the midday heat and our exertions with the burro, was a godsend.

We pushed on in the afternoon, and the trail climbed steadily. John grew tired, and by repacking our loads, he was able to ride the pony. Our progress was delayed by darkness, but we started out again when the moon rose. By this time we were well up on Elk Ridge and it became cooler. Finally, the burro lay down and refused to rise. Perhaps he was more sensible than we! In any case, we unpacked and established a dry camp under the trees. It had been a long, hot, and exhausting day and we slept like rocks on the ground.

After a breakfast of raisins, our trek the next day proved much more pleasant as we left behind the brushy canyons and climbing of the previous day and progressed through the woods and meadows of the high plateau The pinion [pinyon] pines and cedars of the forest gave way to aspens as we reached higher levels.

By midday we reached the Kigalia Ranger Station, 2,000 feet above Blanding The ranger was on hand and gave us a good welcome and a hearty meal. We slept most of the afternoon, but were up and about by evening, when a cowpuncher arrived in time to join the ranger and ourselves for supper After an evening chat that provided still another version of the recent Indian war, we all settled in for the night, John and I spreading our blankets on the ground outside.

The ranger and the cowpuncher, who was to participate in a roundup, left early the following morning, July 2nd. After a brief breakfast, we caught our animals, packed, and were off by 9:00 A.M. Our trail continued westward, and five or six miles further on we passed between the Bear's Ears, two prominent buttes on the south rim of Elk Ridge. The view at that point affords one of the most extensive panoramas in southeastern Utah, from which one can see into each of the Four Corners states Directly west and immediately below the Bear's Ears, we could see White Canyon, which contained the Natural Bridges we were seeking.

After surveying this vast country, we continued down the broad notch between the Bear's Ears and descended into a rugged draw of high brush off to the right. The trail quickly disappeared and we were forced to descend a steep slope for mile after mile through heavy brush. Near the bottom of the draw, we reached a stream bed and still further along found a little alkali water Eventually we picked up an Indian trail over a flat covered with scrub pine and cedar. Luckily, the trail led into upper Armstrong Canyon, and in the early afternoon we reached Owachomo, the first natural bridge, and rested under it at a small pool with tadpoles

Owachomo's thin, elongated arch struck us as being a bit insecure, but its flat top, which nicely spanned the canyon, seemed more like a bridge than the others that we saw later, and I calculated that it could accommodate three railroad tracks. After taking pictures and exploring the region, we worked our way down Armstrong Canyon using both ledges and canyon bottom, and by late afternoon we arrived at Kachina Bridge at the junction of Armstrong and White Canyons This made a good campsite at a central location, and we stayed there for two nights while we further explored the surrounding territory

At our Kachina camp we did our first cooking, which John's diary says produced "sand in the ham, burnt doughy bread." But in spite of our hardships the first and third days, we had covered some fifty-seven miles and had found the bridges. Our burro was now fully broken in, and we were in an entrancing land of red and white rock, through which White and Armstrong Canyons etched their ways in intricate, encircling patterns.

On July 3rd we arose late, and after breakfast and taking care of the animals, we walked up White Canyon to Sipapu, the third bridge, which was very large and impressive. It is difficult to get the full effect of this bridge from photographs, but its impressive size and beauty fit well with its Hopi name, which suggests the poetic concept of an opening allowing one to emerge from a deep, dark underworld to the brilliant sunlit world of the Southwest.

After photographing the Sipapu Bridge, we hiked down White Canyon a few miles and back up Armstrong, where we had noted some cliff dwellings the previous day. We had heard of the cliff dwellings, of course, and realized that they were part of an older culture quite distinct from the Navajo and Paiutes. Although Zeke Johnson's admonitions had not included mention of the cliff dwellings, we were careful not to disturb the ruins, knowing that they might have future archaeological value. After looking over some twenty structures, we returned to our camp.

The combination of the winding canyons with their three bridges and many cliff dwellings against the backdrop of the surrounding red bluffs constitutes a wonderland of great beauty and interest. It was with some little reluctance, therefore, that we left the bridges on July 4th. Zeke Johnson had mentioned that he was bringing a party to the bridges directly after the 4th, and because we wanted to obtain directions to Comb Wash, we decided it would be best to meet him at Kigalia, the one spot where we would be reasonably certain to catch him. Our object was to go south via Comb Wash and cross the San Juan River into Monument Valley at Mexican Hat.

We made an early start and reached the Owachomo Bridge by midmorning. From there we retraced our steps across the flat and then made the hot and dry climb up the wash to the Bear's Ears We managed to keep on the trail on our return up the wash, but even at that, it was a tiring climb of nearly 3,000 feet. We arrived at Kigalia by late afternoon. No one was at the station, so we cooked our supper and turned in.

Aside from John's riding the pony the first day out, and possibly a bit between the Kachina and Owachomo Bridges, we never rode. The going was too rough for this, especially on the steep climbs and descents with packs. Furthermore, the pony was not big, and we became conscious of the fact that, on the climb back to the Bear's Ears, he was having a hard time of it.

We rested on July 5th and reorganized our pack Zeke Johnson arrived in the late afternoon with his party on horseback, and that evening gave us the directions to Comb Wash Unfortunately, these were less clear cut than for our bridge trip, inasmuch as there were no good landmarks like the Bear's Ears to guide us.

On July 6th we made an early start, but lost the faint trail after several miles, and our trek became a hectic and tiring affair. After a false turnoff into Cottonwood Wash which necessitated some backtracking, I finally found a trail that led south. Precisely where our route went has never been clear, except for the fact that we passed a remarkable balanced, reddish rock, which I later learned was the Goblet of Venus.6 In any case, when we finally got into Comb Wash, there was no mistaking it Comb Ridge extended straight south as far as we could see. It is a steep, broken monocline extending from the slopes of the Abajo Mountains almost one hundred miles south to Kayenta, Arizona. In the late afternoon we reached a ranch in the wash where John recorded we encountered "two unpleasant men," and continued on to Mule Canyon, where we camped.

The next morning we examined the Mule Canyon cliff dwellings. In contrast to the cliff dwellings in the bridge region, these obviously had been worked over and were in a more ruinous state In spite of this, John found a cache of arrowheads. We then returned to camp and continued down the wash Below Fish Creek, where John noted strongly alkaline water, we encountered a very sandy stretch and a heavy sandstorm in the afternoon We camped at Navajo Springs, still well above the San Juan River, which cuts its way through Comb Ridge.7

On July 8th we hiked on to Mexican Hat, arriving at the Indian trading post on the San Juan River late in the afternoon. We bought some grain for the horse and established camp We washed in the river, but it was so muddy we merely exchanged old dirt for new! As we lounged in our "mud spa," we took stock of our situation Counting the sidetrips to the cliff dwellings, we had covered well over 150 miles. Because the pony was showing the effects of the trip, we decided not to restock. We still had provisions for twelve to fourteen days. Our plan was to cross the San Juan, turn west into Monument Valley, and if possible reconnoiter a passage to Rainbow Bridge

On our tenth day out, July 9th, we crossed the San Juan in the early morning. The stream was swift and dirty and in the coolness of the morning we wondered how we could have enjoyed bathing in it the previous day Our course was a westerly one across Douglass Mesa and roughly parallel to the river Roads in the sand crisscrossed in various directions and we passed several wagons connected with the oil drilling in Monument Valley. It seemed like another world to us Civilization, in the form of the roads, the suspension bridge at Mexican Hat, and the oil drillers, was making its inroads Nevertheless, Monument Valley was still a vast wilderness It was a barren country except for the sagebrush, and animal life was restricted to some horses and a few Navajo goats. We saw only one rattlesnake.

We encountered several Navajos during the day, but unlike some Paiutes we had encountered south of Kigalia, who mysteriously disappeared into the trees and brush as we spotted each other at a distance, they were not shy At Cedar Springs, an old man with long walrus whiskers came out of a little cabin and cursed the "Navvies" long and vehemently for stealing his horses and clothing We pushed on, passing Train Rock close on the right and in late afternoon reached Oljato, or Moonlight, Creek. Some undrinkable water was in the creek, but it later dried up as we watched it. Aside from the poor condition of the horse, water was our great problem, and the extra supply we carried saved us on more than one occasion. Although our spot in the creek was not much of a campsite, we unpacked and cooked dinner and stayed the night.

Realizing that Moonlight Creek was probably a good stream at a higher level, we turned up the creek the next morning and found the old trading post of Oljato several miles on. This had been established by John Wetherill in 1906, but now it was in ruins and no one was there to advise us about a route to Rainbow Bridge.8 At that point, the high bluffs of the Nokai, No Man's, and Monitor Mesas to the west appeared formidable to us. Leaving the animals behind us under the cottonwoods at Oljato, we skirted this western wall of Monument Valley as far north asJacob's Monument and Copper Canyon. Men at an oil rig near Organ Rock assured us that the mountains and canyons to the west were impassable.9 Our experience in descending and climbing some of the steep ravines and canyons had convinced us of the dangers involved, and the poor condition of our horse considerably increased the hazards We could have gone to Kayenta for provisions and struck out for Rainbow Bridge from there, but at that point it was obvious that the horse could not have made it John hated to give up on the idea of reaching Rainbow Bridge, but the evidence was overwhelming, and he agreed that we must turn back We returned to our Oljato camp for the night.

On July 11th we started our return via a broad circle through Monument Valley Going up Oljato Creek, we turned left through The Gap, between Tse Kizzi (Big Back Door) Mesa and Old Baldy Mesa, and passed near the place where Harry Goulding's trading post was later located.10 As John and I emerged from The Gap, we headed for The Mittens. The day had become excessively hot, and we had trouble urging the horse on. We made poor time and so had a good chance to take in the Monuments as we went along. Their sheer walls, beautiful red coloring, and fantastic forms sculptured by water over the ages, lend an eerie and ethereal aspect to the valley. Even though I had heard of Monument Valley previously, the gigantic size and beauty of the Monuments was still quite overwhelming, an effect probably enhanced by our intimate and prolonged encounter with them

We descended the Rim, a sharp dropoff between Sentinel and Mitchell Mesas, then kept to the south of the West Mitten. After hunting around, we hand two springs, one with sulphur and the other dirty. We were able to use the latter by letting the sediment settle out, and so established camp at a nearby hogan in which we decided to spend the night just for the experience of it Three Navajo youths came by late in the afternoon and offered to trade us a horse for our burro, but refused to consider a trade on our horse They soon departed to round up cattle Sunset on the Monuments was beautiful, and with dusk they seemed even more gigantic and mysterious As we sat beside our hogan and faced the Merrick Butte close by and the Mitchell Mesa farther to the right, we were reminded of the fate of the two prospectors for whom they were named, who were murdered

Our schedule was largely determined by the sun, and this meant long days On July 12th, for example, we set off at 6:00 A.M., which meant that, with breakfast and packing, we must have been up well before 5:00 A.M We headed south into the Inner Valley, Tse-begay, or Valley Within the Rocks, exploring the famous formations as far south as the Totem Pole and Yei-biChai Dancers In retrospect, I believe thatJohn and I should have spent another day in that area, which would have been better for the horse and we would have been well rewarded by the beauty and unique features of this rock paradise However, our minds had now been directed to the trek east to southwestern Colorado, and we realized we had a long and hard hike back to Mexican Hat, so we turned north and passed out of the Tse-begay between Spearhead Mesa and the Totem Pole Further to the east, we got into a very rough area, but eventually worked through a canyon and found a trail to water. It was another excessively hot day, but in spite of this and our fatigue, we managed to drag on to Mexican Hat by midafternoon. We had covered a distance of about twenty-two miles in nine hours.

The San Juan appeared quite different in the heat of the day and after a long, hot, and dirty hike. We soaked in its warm, muddy water and loafed the rest of the afternoon. The mineral bath in the San Juan perked us up considerably This was our one spa on our entire trip!

The next day,July 13th, was to be a rest day, and indeed it was for the animals However, we helped Arthur Spencer, the Indian trader at Mexican Hat, fill a tank of water on his truck and aided him with several tire repairs. Pumping tires was especially tiring in the heat of the late morning. At noon we received a nice lunch for our efforts and met his wife, Mrs Midora Spencer, and their daughter, Helen. Spencer then offered to drive us in his truck to his oil well, which was a few miles northwest of Mexican Hat and not too far from the Goosenecks of the San Juan River We readily accepted when all the Spencers emphasized that it was a natural phenomenon we should not miss. The trip was fouled up by further blowouts, but we were eventually rewarded when we hiked on to the Goosenecks After taking pictures, we returned to Spencer's truck and rode back to Mexican Hat

On the 14th we started out again, but the horse went poorly and after five miles became completely recalcitrant. Our pack by now was diminished to only about four or five days' provisions and we were able to load it all on the burro We returned to Spencer's store and arranged to leave the horse with Helen Spencer, who promised to take good care of it. We cut and drained a pus pocket on the burro's back, which had developed from a pack saddle sore Because a rainstorm started at that time, we loafed about for the rest of the day Our next objective was Bluff, Utah, which would require a good day's hike.

Before starting on the last lap of our expedition, we had time, while loafing at Mexican Hat in the rain, to review our trek through Monument Valley and to plan for the future In our last five days, counting the side trip to the Goosenecks, we had walked approximately one hundred miles and the animals about eighty We were now reduced to one animal and provisions for four or five days Because of our inability to penetrate the canyons west of Monument Valley, we had decided to go up the San Juan to the east and to end the trip in southwestern Colorado John had ideas of obtaining a job at Mancos with Dr J W Fewkes, a Smithsonian ethnologist,12 and I wanted to visit Telluride before returning home.

Realizing that our trip would soon be over, it was with some little sadness on July 15th that John and I again turned east There was scant promise of much ahead that would match the wonderful adventures we had experienced, but we knew there would be much heat and hard hiking. The first leg of our trip, from Mexican Hat to Comb Wash, was the only stretch except that between Kigalia and the Natural Bridges where we retraced our steps. When we ate lunch at Navajo Spring, we were encouraged by the thought that we would then be entering new country to us. The appearance of clouds that shielded us from the sun was also encouraging, but even so it was a hot and dusty hike of some twenty-five miles for the day. John's diary records, "Long walk to Bluff. Very tired and peevish." Although I do not recall the peevishness, he was probably right, for all the psychological and physical conditions were present to make it so.

We camped by the main road in Bluff near a flowing well where we could get water. Many of the houses in Bluff had been boarded up and were abandoned This probably represented the exodus of those who had left for better farmland in the Blanding area. The mosquitos were terrible that night and kept us awake. Because of the previous dull and tiring day, we were tempted to take the stage to Blanding, but the next morning we decided to carry on. The route from here on would be new country, and we had a good burro and provisions. Also, our objectives involved points in southwestern Colorado which would be difficult to reach by the roundabout stage routes of that day.

We followed up the San Juan, sometimes using the trails on the bluff above the river and again following along the bank We passed several Indian farms and at one point crossed a section of trail John described as "hanging by skin of its teeth to cliff above river."

Further on, our trip almost came to a disastrous end. The burro, walking slightly ahead and to one side, suddenly started disappearing in the shallow sandy river bank Fearing that we were in quicksand, we danced about the burro and removed his pack within seconds. Our broader "hoofs" and lighter load, plus quick footwork, saved us from sinking. The burro sank more slowly after his belly reached the sand and we had removed the pack. With ropes and much tugging, as well as tremendous struggles by the burro, we finally got him onto firmer ground. Toward the end of this episode, some Navajo boys passed above us on the bluff and were convulsed with laughter at our plight. The danger was over by that time, and we waved back at them.

At Montezuma Creek we saw nothing to indicate a Mormon settlement, as originally planned by the leaders of the San Juan Mission. That colony, which settled at Bluff, had spread from there to Blanding rather than up the river, and only an old man and a boy, who ran a small store, were at Montezuma Creek to greet us. Because our ultimate goal was on McElmo Creek only some twenty miles further, and the burro was fatigued and shaken by the quicksand episode, we camped near the store The old man invited us to supper and we enjoyed it greatly in comparison with our campfire cooking. We cleaned up the sore on the burro's back and then took to our blankets.

Our route after leaving Montezuma Creek on July 17th is uncertain, but modern topographic maps and later study of the area suggest that we probably followed the route of the present dirt road along the open slope between Montezuma Creek on the west and the rugged Allen Canyon complex on the east This route leads to the Cajon group of ruins, part of Hovenweep National Monument, which we unexpectedly arrived at in time for lunch. The ruins are at the head of a ravine on the southern tongue of Cajon Mesa We were attracted to this ravine by a small stream and green brush in it which indicated water. As we worked up the ravine, we noticed the ruins of old towers, and under a huge rock that capped the end of the ravine, we discovered a beautiful, protected spring with cedar trees on both sides The cave formed by the white rock roof was cool, and we had a delightful rest and lunch that contrasted sharply with the hot trip of the morning. The high square towers on the west of the ravine were large and impressive, and we realized that they were quite distinctive from the more crude dwellings of the present Indians. They also appeared different from the cliff dwellings we had seen in White Canyon and Comb Wash.

The present appearance of the Cajon ruins suggest vandalization since our 1923 visit. Other changes involve the cave, which is now almost half full of debris, and the spring, which is now a mud pool and had been replaced by a cement-lined well nearby Cedar trees still abound, but they appear scraggly and probably have suffered from use of the water by Navajo sheep.

It was with great reluctance that we tore ourselves away from this delightful and intriguing spot and set off in an easterly direction in the early afternoon. By avoiding the hills and ravines, we made good progress, setting our course for a point on McElmo Creek just left of Ute Mountain which loomed up ahead We finally entered McElmo Creek through a side canyon a mile or so short of the Colorado border, then followed a ranch road up the creek to the Ismay Trading Post in Colorado. We continued on to a ranch, where we made arrangements for a ride to Cortez, then established our last camp nearby We treated the burro's back and turned him loose. Aside from the wound, which was slowly healing, he was in good shape and past experience assured us that he could take care of himself.

The remainder of the trip involved a ride to Cortez in the mail truck, a stage ride to Mancos, where John hoped to see Dr. Fewkes, and a wait in Mancos for John's suitcase and funds being wired from his father Dr Fewkes was not there, in spite of his schedule which John had learned of earlier, and John's hopes of getting an interesting job with him were dashed. After much ado with other people and less interesting job prospects,John decided to return home to Washington, D.C.

I waited on to be sure John was not stranded, then left for Durango. There I connected with the narrow gauge railroad for Telluride, where I explored sites connected with Mr L L Nunn, founder of Deep Springs College, then returned home, where I arrived nearly a month after we started our trip.

Although the trip, going and coming, had taken a month, we were on the trail for only eighteen days In this period we had hiked probably 320 miles Considering that we had rested for more than two days of this period, we averaged nearly twenty miles per day when on the go. The long summer days help explain these long distances, but it may also help to explain why the horse couldn't keep up!

Although the San Juan country in 1923 was one of the wildest and most remote regions in the United States, John and I were aware of the hardships of a trip in such a country and deliberately proposed to enter it and see the worst it had to offer. Some are satisfied with the quiet beauties of nature; others seek the unusual phenomena; while in yet others it is the untamed ruggedness and the grandeur of extreme nature that touches a responsive chord, perhaps arousing and challenging some primal impulse.

It is true that the rugged nature of the San Juan country, the great scarcity of waterholes, and the very meagerness of our outfit prevented our attaining that almost perfect sense of freedom of Wordsworth when he said, "and should the chosen guide be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way." In fact, those limitations prevented our even exploring as much as we wished. As with many experiences in life, our trip turned out differently than we had anticipated It fell short ofJohn's dream of exploring new worlds in the wilderness, but in terms of rich and unexpected experiences which neither of us could ever forget, it far surpassed our fondest expectations.

NOTES

Dr. Topping is an instructor in history at Salt Lake Community College.

1 Harvey Leake and Gary Topping, "The Bernheimer Explorations in Forbidding Canyon," Utah Historical Quarterly 55 (1987): 137-66, gives biographical information on Ezekiel Johnson and cites additional references.

2 Dr Robert B Aird, M.D (1903- ) in 1923 was living with his parents, Dr John W Aird and Emily McAuslan Aird (later a member of the Utah House of Representatives) After finishing his undergraduate work at Cornell, his medical degree at Harvard (1930), and further postgraduate training in the East and at the University of California, San Francisco, Robert Aird started the Department of Neurology at the University of California Medical School, where he served as chairman from 1947 until his retirement in 1971 John M Newell (1904-71) was a son of Frederick Newell, first director of the U.S Reclamation Service under Theodore Roosevelt John Newell majored in chemistry at Cornell and in 1932 received his doctoral degree in that field from Johns Hopkins University He eventually became chief of laboratories of the Massachusetts Department of Public Health.

3 Deep Springs College, now a two-year college for men, was founded in 1917 by L L Nunn, a pioneer in electrical power development at Telluride, Colorado. Its unique program links rigorous academic work with labor and self-government to prepare its students, all of whom attend with full scholarships, for service and leadership. It was a three-year program until 1960.

4 Aird and Newell had learned of the San Juan country from articles by Charles L Bernheimer, "Encircling Navajo Mountain with a Pack Train," National Geographic 43 (February 1923): 197-224; Byron Cummings, "Great Natural Bridges of Utah," National Geographic 21 (February 1910): 157-67; and W. W. Dyar, "Colossal Natural Bridges of Utah," National Geographic 15 (September 1904): 367-69.

5 Correct Navajo spellings for these questions would be Haadi to?and Haadi atiin?

6 The Goblet of Venus, which years later was knocked off its pedestal, was a conspicuous landmark beside the road from Blanding to Kigalia Aird and Newell had missed it on the outbound leg of the trip because they were following a more northerly trail that paralleled the later road.

7 Navajo Spring was located at the point where modern Utah Highway 163 cuts through Comb Ridge; it was obliterated when the highway was built.

8 John and Louisa Wetherill had abandoned Oljato and moved to Kayenta, Arizona, in 1910 Another trading post was established at a nearby site later in the decade, but the original Wetherill buildings were leveled. Although the narrative soon makes it clear that Aird and Newell were unaware of this, they had come to the right place in their quest for Rainbow Bridge, for it was from Oljato that one contingent of the party that discovered the bridge on August 14, 1909, had departed Mary Louise Comfort, Rainbow to Yesterday (New York, 1980), pp 41-48, 62-71.

9 As a matter of fact, they were right on the original Wetherill trail to Rainbow Bridge, but the length, difficulty, and obscurity of the trail, especially considering the inadequacy of Aird and Newell's outfit, as they realized, made turning back a wise decision.

10 Harry and Leone "Mike" Goulding established their trading post, which later became the headquarters for several famous John Ford movie projects, in 1924 Richard E Klinck, Land of Room Enough and Time Fnough (Albuquerque, 1953); Samuel Moon, Tall Sheep: Harry Goulding, Monument Valley Trader (Norman • University of Oklahoma Press, 1992).

11 Robert S McPherson, "Navajos, Mormons, and Henry L Mitchell: Cauldron of Conflict on the San Juan," Utah Historical Quarterly 55 (1987): 50-65.

12 Jesse Walter Fewkes, an archaeologist for the Smithsonian Institution, excavated both at Mesa Verde and Cajon Mesa, 1908-22 Robert H and Florence C Lister, Those Who Came Before: Southwestern Archeology in the National Park System (Tucson, 1983), pp 134, 140.