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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
The principal Indian trail into the mountains from the plains to the
northeast of Pike's Peak came in by way of the Garden Ranch, through what used
to be known as Templeton's Gap. It crossed Monument Creek about a mile above
Colorado Springs, then followed up a ridge to the Mesa; then it went southwest
over the Mesa and across Camp Creek, passing just south of the Garden of the
Gods; from there it came down to the Fountain, about a mile west of Colorado
City, and there joined another trail that came from the southeast up the east
side of Fountain Creek. The latter trail followed the east side of the Fountain
from the Arkansas River, and crossed Monument Creek just below the present
Artificial Ice Plant in Colorado Springs, from which point it ran along the
north side of the Fountain to a point just west of Colorado City, where it
crossed to the south side, then up the south side of the creek to the Manitou
Springs. From this place it went up Ruxton Creek for a few hundred yards, then
crossed over to the west side, then up the creek to a point just below the
Colorado Midland Railway bridge; thence westward up a long ravine to its head;
then in the same direction near the heads of the ravines running into the
Fountain and from a quarter to a half of a mile south of that creek for two
miles or more. The trail finally came down to the Fountain again just below
Cascade Canon and from there led up the Fountain to its head, where it branched
off in various directions.
The trail I have described from Manitou to Cascade Canon is the famous old Ute
Pass trail which undoubtedly had been used by various tribes of Indians for
hundreds of years before the discovery of America. We know it was used later for
many generations by the Spanish explorer, the hunter, the trapper, and the
Indian until the white settler came, and even after that by occasional
war-parties, up to the time the Indians were driven from the State of Colorado.
Marble markers were placed at intervals along this trail by the El Paso County
Pioneer Society in the summer of 1912. This trail and those leading into it from
the plains were well-traveled roads and gave indication of long and frequent
use.
Dr. Edwin James, botanist and historian of Long's expedition, who visited the
Pike's Peak region in 182o, says:
A large and much frequented
road passes the springs and
enters the mountains running to
the north of the high peak.
He says of the principal spring at
Manitou:
The boiling spring is a
large and beautiful fountain of
water, cool and transparent and
aerated with carbonic acid. It
rises on the brink of a small
stream which here descends from
the mountains at the point where
the bed of this stream divides
the ridge of sandstone, which
rests against the base of the
first granitic range. The water
of the spring deposits a copious
concretion of carbonate of lime,
which has accumulated on every
side, until it has formed a
large basin over-hanging the
stream, above which it rises
several feet. The basin is of
snowy whiteness and large enough
to contain three or four hundred
gallons, and is constantly
overflowing. The spring rises
from the bottom of the basin
with a rumbling noise,
discharging about equal volumes
of air and of water, probably
about fifty gallons per minute,
the whole kept in constant
agitation. The water is
beautifully transparent, has a
sparkling appearance, the
grateful taste and exhilarating
effect of the most highly
aerated artificial mineral
water.
In the bottom of the spring a
great number of beads and other
small articles of Indian
adornment were found, having
unquestionably been left there
as a sacrifice or present to the
springs, which are regarded with
a sort of veneration by the
savages. Bijeau, our guide,
assured us he had repeatedly
taken beads and other adornments
from these springs and sold them
to the same savages who had
thrown them in.
Mr. Rufus B. Sage, who describes himself
as a New Englander, after passing through
this region in 1842, published a book giving
his experiences and observations. In
speaking of the Fontaine qui Bouille Creek,
now known as the Fountain and of the Manitou
Springs, he says:
This name is derived from
two singular springs situated
within a few yards of each other
at the creek's head, both of
which emit water in the form of
vapor, with a hissing noise; one
strongly impregnated with
sulphur and the other with soda.
The soda water is fully as good
as any manufactured for special
use and sparkles and foams with
equal effervescence. The Arapaho
regard, this phenomenon with
awe, and venerate it as the
manifestation of the immediate
presence of the Great Spirit.
They call it the "Medicine
Fountain" and seldom neglect to
bestow their gifts upon it
whenever an opportunity is
presented. These offerings
usually consist of robes,
blankets, arrows, bows, knives,
beads, moccasins, etc., which
they either throw into the
water, or hang upon the
surrounding trees.
Sometimes a whole village will
visit the place for the purpose
of paying their united regard to
this sacred fountain.
The scenery in the vicinity is
truly magnificent. A valley
several hundred yards in width
heads at the springs, and
overlooking it from the west in
almost perpendicular ascent
tower the lofty summits of
Pike's Peak, piercing the clouds
and reveling in eternal snow.
This valley opens eastward and
is walled in at the right and
left at the mountain's base by a
stretch of high tableland
surmounted by oaks and stately
pines, with now and then an
interval displaying a luxuriant
coating of grass. The soil is a
reddish loam and very rich. The
trees, which skirt the creek as
it traces its way from the
fountain, are generally free
from underbrush, and show almost
as much regularity of position
as if planted by the hand of
art. A lusty growth of
vegetation is sustained among
them to their very trunks, which
is garnished by wild flowers
during the summer months, that
invest the whole scene with an
enchantment peculiar to itself.
The climate, too, is far milder
in this than in adjoining
regions, even of a more southern
latitude. "It is here summer
first unfolds her robes, and
here the longest tarries"; the
grass, continuing green the
entire winter, here first feels
the genial touch of spring. Snow
seldom remains upon the ground
to exceed a single day, even in
the severest weather, while the
neighboring hills and prairies
present their white mantlings
for weeks in succession.
As the creek emerges from the
mountains, it increases in size
by the accession of several
tributaries, and the valley also
expands, retaining for a
considerable distance the
distinguishing traces above
described.
The vicinity affords an
abundance of game, among which
are deer, sheep, bear, antelope,
elk, and buffalo, together with
turkeys, geese, ducks, grouse,
mountain fowls, and rabbits.
Affording as it does such
magnificent and delightful
scenery, such rich stores for
the supply of human wants both
to please the taste and
enrapture the heart; so heaven
like in its appearance and
character, it is no wonder the
untaught savage reveres it as a
place wherein the Good Spirit
delights to dwell, and hastens
with his free-will offerings to
the strange fountain, in the
full belief that its bubbling
waters are the more immediate
impersonation of Him whom he
adores.
And there are other scenes
adjoining this that demand a
passing notice. A few miles from
the springs, and running
parallel with the eastern base
of the mountain range, several
hundred yards removed from it, a
wall of coarse, red granite
towers to a varied height of
from fifty to three hundred
feet. This wall is formed of an
immense strata planted
vertically. This mural tier is
isolated and occupies its
prairie site in silent majesty,
as if to guard the approach to
the stupendous monuments of
Nature's handiwork, that form
the background, disclosing
itself to the beholder for a
distance of over thirty miles.
Lieut. John C. Fremont, who visited the
springs in 1843, while on his second
expedition, was just as enthusiastic about
them. He says:
On the morning of the 16th
of July we resumed our journey.
Our direction was up the Boiling
Springs River, it being my
intention to visit the
celebrated springs from which
the river takes its name, and
which are on its upper waters at
the foot of Pike's Peak.
Our animals fared well while we
were on this stream, there being
everywhere a great abundance of
grass. Beautiful clusters of
flowering plants were numerous,
and wild currants, nearly ripe,
were abundant. On the afternoon
of the 17th, we entered among
the broken ridges at the foot of
the mountain, where the river
made several forks.
Leaving the camp to follow
slowly, I rode ahead in the
afternoon, in search of the
springs. In the meantime, the
clouds, which had been gathering
all the afternoon over the
mountains, began to roll down
their sides, and a storm so
violent burst upon me that it
appeared I had entered the store
house of the thunder storms. I
continued, however, to ride
along up the river until about
sunset, and was beginning to be
doubtful of finding the springs
before the next day, when I came
suddenly upon a large, smooth
rock about twenty feet in
diameter, where the water from
several springs was bubbling and
boiling up in the midst of a
white encrustation, with which
it had covered a portion of the
rock. As it did not correspond
with the description given me by
the hunters, I did not stop to
taste the water, but
dismounting, walked a little way
up the river, and passing
through a narrow thicket of
shrubbery bordering the stream,
stepped directly upon a huge,
white rock at the foot of which
the river, already becoming a
torrent, foamed along, broken by
a small fall.
A deer which had been drinking
at the spring was startled by my
approach, and springing across
the river bounded off up the
mountain. In the upper part of
the rock, which had been formed
by the deposition, was a
beautiful, white basin overhung
by currant bushes, in which the
cold, clear water bubbled up,
kept in constant motion by the
escaping gas, and over flowing
the rock which it had almost
entirely covered with a smooth
crust of glistening white.
I had all day refrained from
drinking, reserving myself for
the springs, and as I could not
well be more wet than the rain
had already made me, I lay down
by the side of the basin and
drank heartily of the delightful
water.
As it was now beginning to grow
dark, I rode quickly down the
river on which I found the camp
a few miles below. The morning
of the 18th was beautiful and
clear, and all of the people
being anxious to drink of these
famous waters, we encamped
immediately at the springs and
spent there a very pleasant day.
On the opposite side of the
river is another locality of
springs which are entirely of
the same nature. The water has a
very agreeable taste, which Mr.
Preuss found very much to
resemble that of the famous
Selter spring in the Grand Duchy
of Nassau, a country famous for
wine and mineral waters.
Resuming our journey on the
morning of the 19th, we
descended the river, in order to
reach the mouth of the eastern
fork which I proposed to ascend.
The left bank of the river is
here very much broken. There is
a handsome little bottom on the
right, and both banks are
exceedingly picturesque, a
stratum of red rock in nearly
perpendicular wails, crossing
the valley from north to south.
Lieut. George F. Ruxton, an
officer of the British Army, who
was seeking the restoration of
his health by roughing it in the
Rocky Mountains, camped at the
Manitou Springs for a number of
months in the early part of
1847.
Writing of his trip from Pueblo up the
Fontaine qui Bouille in the month of March
of that year, and of his stay at the springs
afterwards, he says:
The further I advanced up
the creek and the nearer the
mountains, the more advanced was
the vegetation. As yet, however,
the cottonwoods and the larger
trees in the bottom showed no
signs of life, and the currant
and cherry bushes still looked
dry and sapless. The thickets,
however, were filled with birds
and resounded with their songs,
and the plains were alive with
prairie dogs, busy in repairing
their houses and barking lustily
as I rode through their towns.
Turkeys, too, were calling in
the timber, and the boom of the
prairie fowl at rise and set of
sun was heard on every side. The
snow had entirely disappeared
from the plains, but Pike's Peak
and the mountains were still
clad in white.
On my way I met a band of
hunters who had been driven in
by a party of Arapaho who were
encamped on the eastern fork of
the Fontaine qui Bouille
[Monument Creek]. They strongly
urged me to return, as, being
alone, I could not fail to be
robbed of my animals, if not
killed myself. However, in
pursuance of my fixed rule never
to stop on account of Indians, I
proceeded up the river and
camped on the first fork for a
day or two, hunting in the
mountains. I then moved up the
main fork on which I had been
directed by the hunters to
proceed, in order to visit the
far famed springs, from which
the creek takes its name. I
followed a very good lodge pole
trail which struck the creek
before entering the broken
country, being that used by the
Ute and Arapaho on their way to
the Bayou Salado. Here the
valley narrowed considerably,
and turning an angle with the
creek, I was at once shut in by
mountains and elevated ridges
which rose on each side of the
stream. This was now a rapid
torrent tumbling over the rocks
and stones and fringed with oak
and a shrubbery of brush. A few
miles on, the canon opened into
a little shelving glade and on
the right bank of the stream,
raised several feet above it,
was a flat, white rock, in which
was a round hole where one of
the celebrated springs hissed
and bubbled with its escaping
gas. I had been cautioned
against drinking this, being
directed to follow the stream a
few yards to another, which is
the true soda spring.
I had not only abstained from
drinking that day, but with the
aid of a handful of salt, which
I had brought with me for the
purpose, had so highly seasoned
my breakfast of venison, that I
was in a most satisfactory state
of thirst. I therefore proceeded
at once to the other spring, and
found it about forty yards from
the first and immediately above
the river, issuing from a little
basin in the flat, white rock,
and trickling over the edge into
the stream. The escape of gas in
this was much stronger than in
the other, and was similar to
water boiling smartly.
I had provided myself with a tin
cup holding about a pint, but
before dipping it in I divested
myself of my pouch and belt, and
sat down in order to enjoy the
draught at my leisure. I was
half dead with thirst, and
tucking up the sleeves of my
hunting shirt, I dipped the cup
into the midst of the bubbles
and raised it, hissing and
sparkling, to my lips. Such a
draught! Three times without
drawing a breath was it
replenished and emptied, almost
blowing up the roof of my mouth
with its effervescence. It was
equal to the very best soda
water, but possesses that fresh,
natural flavor which
manufactured water cannot
impart.
The Indians regard with awe the
medicine waters of these
fountains, as being the abode of
a Spirit who breathes through
the transparent water, and thus
by his exhalations causes the
perturbation of its surface. The
Arapaho especially attribute to
this water god, the power of
ordaining the success or
miscarriage of their war
expeditions, and as their braves
pass often by the mysterious
springs when in search of their
hereditary enemies, the Ute, in
the "Valley of Salt," they never
fail to bestow their votive
offerings upon the water sprite,
in order to propitiate the
Manitou of the fountain and
insure a fortunate issue to
their path of war. Thus at the
time of my visit, the basin of
the spring was filled with beads
and wampum and pieces of red
cloth and knives, while. the
surrounding trees were hung with
strips of deer skin, cloth, and
moccasins; to which, had they
been serviceable, I would most
sacrilegiously have helped
myself. The signs, too, around
the spring, plainly showed that
here a war dance had been
executed by the braves, and I
was not a little pleased to find
that they had already been here
and were not likely to return
the same way; but in this
supposition I was quite astray.
