Many persons have read of mountain trails, but comparatively few have seen them or realized the dangers that attend a passage over them. The splendid photograph of the trail over San Juan Mountains, on this page, will therefore be a subject of interest to all. This is a picture of the real thing, as it exists in nature. Crevice Cañon, near Ouray, Colo., the companion picture, is another of nature’s wonders that will arouse the curiosity of every reader. It seems impossible that so small a stream could have carved its way through such an obstacle, but it has left the marks of its power in the granite walls of the opposing mountain. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: ANTELOPE PARK, NEAR TOLTEC GORGE.] We cross the Conejos range at Cumbres, at an elevation of 10,000 feet, and after traversing a lower range of the San Juan we again strike the Los Pinos River, and, taking a turn around Prospect Peak, come in view of Toltec Gorge, one of the most fearfully grand cañons in the world. The mountain is pierced by a tunnel near its summit, which is approached by a balcony trestle, on which the east-bound train stops several minutes to permit the passengers to gaze into the dreadful depths of the chasm over which they hang. For it must be understood that the road-bed is built here upon a trestle that has all its fastenings in the perpendicular walls, and without any support beneath, so that to one looking from the car window the train appears to be suspended in mid- air, 1,000 feet above the rolling waters below. The gorge is 1,200 feet deep, and besides being narrow, the walls are perpendicular, so that daylight tarries but a short while in its profound recesses. As we pass the Toltec Gorge, Phantom Curve is approached, and from the grandeur and awesomeness with which the great abyss impressed us, our interest is quickened and spell-bound by objects that at once excite wonder and curious amazement. We are suddenly introduced to forms more strange than monstrous, more remarkable for their incongruity than significant for their grandeur. The chisels of nature’s sculptors, frost, water, storms, ice and decay have wrought many astounding things in stone, which rival in grotesque eccentricity the queer figures that render famous the Garden of the Gods. Passing this parade-ground of nature’s idols, we strike the Big Horn Curve, and twist like a contortionist in making a devious descent, that winds and winds until at last we reach the feet of the Sangre de Cristo range, at Antonito. Thence our direction was due north, over a level country, until we reached Alamosa, where, as per arrangement, we met the others of our party on their return from Wagon-Wheel Gap. Here we received reports of the trip from Pueblo, and tarried a while to write up our journals, pack our negatives, and prepare for the journey that by a long sweep was to take us to the lands of the Pacific.