Glimpses of America: A Pictorial and Descriptive History of Our Country's Scenic MarvelsBuel, James W. (James William)
History
Glimpses of America: A Pictorial and Descriptive History of Our Country's Scenic Marvels
Buel, James W. (James William)
United States -- Pictorial works
From the Ledge the road continues its zigzag way up the steep and around
dangerously narrow terraces, over which a party of excursionists in a
six-horse wagon tumbled to their death on the 3d of July, 1880, the only
accident that has ever occurred in making the remarkable descent here,
however perilous appears the passage; and this tragedy was due to a
drunken driver. In describing the ascent above Midway House, Mr. Drake
thus writes: “A sharp turn around a ledge, and the southeast wall of
Tuckerman’s Ravine rose up like a wraith out of the forest. Nearer at
hand was the Head of Huntington’s, while to the right the cone of
Washington loomed up gradually, more than a thousand feet higher. A
little to left you look down into the gloomy depths of Pinkham defile,
the valley of Ellis River and the Saco Valley to North Conway. The blue
course of the Ellis, which is nothing but a long cascade, the rich green
of the Conway intervales, the blanched peak of Chocurua, the sapphire
summits of Ossipee Mountains were presented in conjunction with the
black and humid walls of the ravine, and the iron-gray moss of the great
dome. The crag on which I stood leans out over the mountain like a
bastion, from which the spectator sees the deep-entrenched valleys, the
rivers which wash the feet of the monarch, and the long line of summits
which partake of his grandeur while making it all the more impressive.
From here the striking spectacle of four great northern peaks, their
naked summits, their sides seamed with old and new slides, and flecked
with snow, constantly enlarged. There were some terrible rents in the
side of Clay, red as half-closed wounds, and in one place the mountain
seemed riven to its center. It was this gulf that the first climber said
it was such a precipice he could scarce discern the bottom. The rifts in
the walls of the ravine, the blasted fir-trees leaning over the abyss,
and clutching the rocks with a death-grip, the rocks themselves,
tormented, formidable, impending, astounded by their vivid portrayal of
the formless, their suggestions of the agony in which these mountains
were brought forth.”
[Illustration: UPPER JACKSON FALLS, WILD-CAT RIVER, NEW HAMPSHIRE.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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