by Benedict Ogden Canyon OGDEN CANYON by Jerry Carlile Along the south walls of this rocky gash in the Wasatch range, an old Indian trail snakes its way. In 1825, the noted trapper and mountaineer, Peter Skene Ogden, traveled toward the lake along that trail. Peter Ogden the man whose name was to live and grow with the coming years, borne by the canvon, and the river that tumbles through it, and the city below, and the tall peak rearing toward the skies southward, and by the circlet of valley on the east. Today, the ski enthusiast hurrying up Utah highway 39 on his way to Snow Basin does not question the past. He probably never heard of the Indian trail or the first road into the canyon, the old tow road. But perhaps there is one oldtimer remaining who recalls paying twenty-five cents to ride into the gorge on his saddle pony. Of an evening, today's children flock to the canon mouth, to the Old Mill, to dance in picturesque and rustic setting. But unlike the imitation atmosphere built up at similar spots elsewhere, the night club may reliably claim an historical past. On the premises are the original millstones Lorin Farr used in 1849 in his Ogden river gristmill On entering the narrow mouth of the canyon, the tourist is first attracted by a swayback syphon crossing from side to side high overhead. The sagging center of this suspended aqueduct makes it seem half-ready to fall. The stranger asks in wonderment concerning it and is told promptly that the big pipe carries irrigation water into the Highline canal for distribution among five South Weber communities. But your chamber of commerce booster will not stop here. He talks of the Mt. Ogden game preserve and the variety of wild life to be found there, of the concrete and rock-and-earth Pine View dam that halts the river, of the reservoir behind it, a man-made lake with a twenty-mile shoreline. Beneath it lies 47 artesian wells contributing culinary water to Ogden. He quotes figures on the value of the water stored, making fertile 60,000 acres of farmland between Brigham City and the Davis county line. Probably he invites his listener to return in July for the colorful speed and sail boat races on the lake. Already the visitor has noted the summer homes which front the river anu the picnic grounds and footpaths into the hills. A railroad once edged the north bank and the great and gay maintained nightly rendezvous at the Hermitage. National figures were wined and dined there on occasion. They love it, we are told: the cool, zestful air of the mountain crags and the munificent hospitality of Ogden tycoons and socialites of the "grand manner." The tourist is pardoned for gaping at the astonishing ruggedness of the great gash. The up-ended strata ascending almost vertically cause admiring shivers to race along his spine. In flood, the roar of the rushing river water seems multiplied by the rock walls. For many months annually now, however, the waterway is a place of gentle reaches and cottage dwellers dangle fishing lines from back porches into its placid depths. If it were not for the freshets of spring and water power requirements, the stream would remain little but a woodlot trickle. Eastward in Ogden valley, besides Pine View, lie the hamlets of Huntsville, Eden and Liberty. These settlements, purely Mormon in character, are generally spoken of in connection with the canyon, though it becomes an open space of 17,000 acres there before branching into Middle, South and North forks. South fork takes the outdoorsman to some of the most majestically rugged scenes of the state. Huntsville particularly has an interesting history. It was established in 1860 by Captain Jefferson Hunt, Mormon Battalion member, his sons and Charles Woods and a few others. At one time during those troublesome early years, the livestock-thieving Red Men, always alert to possibilities for harassing the settlers, threatened to pollute the water supply if the Mormons failed to leave Ogden valley. Resolute Captain Hunt swore that at their first suspicious act he would burn all the water in the canyon. When they looked incredulous, he seized a dipper full of colorless liquid probably alchohol and burned it before their eyes. The Indians from then on were friendly enough. (Concluded on Page 5) Page 4 (Continued from Page 3) Thus we see that the westward flowing stream of America, seeking paths through the formidable Rockies, carved one such way through Weber canyon, to spill upon the deserts of Utah and Nevada and roll on to Pacific shores. Today, in the rugged gorge, the tide of progress ebbs and flows where the Weber river tumbles in the shadow of mountains majestic, on its way to the inland sea. Yet much of its rich water supply is now stored in the Echo and East canyon reservoirs, pending annual summer use in the beet and hay fields of the valley. TRAPPER by Sylvia Bobolis The vast portion of the West called Utah had great possibilities hidden among the unexplored valleys and mountains, but they were to lie untouched until such trappers and explorers as Jedediah Smith, James Bridger, and Thomas Fitzpatrick could come to pave the way for the multitudes which were to follow in subsequent years. Under the direction of General William Ashley and Major Andrew Henry, various fur-trapping companies were organized, and they made it their business to see that no area was left undiscovered. Every stream and lake was made a trapping ground. Any fertile valley or mountain pass that existed was made use of. They opened the door to the west, and left it open for those who wished to come in and stay, and for those who found it convenient to pass through on their way to other country. At one time, the cold weather had forced a group of trappers under the direction of Etienne Provost to settle near the Weber river at the present site of Ogden. The Indians were friendly and had thus far caused them no trouble. One evening Provost and his men, together with the Indians, sat around a huge campfire, smoking the peace pipe. One of the Indians told them that the spirits did not like to have weapons present at these sacred affairs, whereby it was agreed that everyone would put his gun or tomahawk aside. No sooner had both Whites and Indians given up their weapons then concealed tomahawks appeared in the hands of the Indians, who savagely pounced upon the white men, killing everyone but Provost and four of his men. The five survivors of the attack escaped into the mountains and later joined another party of Ashley's men in Cache Valley, northern Utah. With sunburned faces, weather-beaten clothes, and straggling beards, the trappers had little concern for their personal appearance. A good rifle and horse were the only things they desired. Their only purpose was to trap on every available lake and stream for the furs which would bring them the best profits. Many of our great trappers died while still exploring new land and passages in this vast new area. They and their comrades uncovered hidden riches in the form of natural resources. Because of their efforts, this wealth is our heritage of today. (Continued from page 4) Greater wealth will flow from the canyon when plans to raise Pine View are realized and lesser dams are built to retain the rich water higher up. It is planned also to divert some of the waters of the Weber into the reservoir, possibly by tunneling. Yet even with the present changes, Peter Skene Ogden would hardly recognize, save for its noble outlines, the nearly impenetrable thicket and "torrent of desolation" he once knew. Page 5