Frederick Dellaenbaugh was a young man when John Wesley Powell tapped him to participate in Powell's second trip down the Colorado River. Powell had made the journey already a few years before, so the second voyage was less pure exploration and more science; the crew included Almon Harris Thompson (called affectionately "Prof." throughout), a professional geographer who also happened to be Powell's brother-in-law. With several boats and men of widely varying experience, the expedition sailed the Green river (thought at that time to be the upper Colorado) to its junction with the Colorado, and the Colorado itself as far as the middle of the Grand Canyon. Swirling rapids, maggotty food, blistering heat, sudden blizzards beset the adventurers, who still though it all made their geographical, geological, and ethnographical observations which resulted in (among other things) the first maps of the four corners region and the Grand Canyon (reproduced in the book).
While wild adventure, humor, and a real sense of the Old West permeate the book, there is a certain sadness, too. The Native Americans whom Dellenbaugh encounters are people clearly already defeated -- fearful, distrusting, sad. We catch glimpses of the Navaho trying to accommodate themselves to the new reality of white (especially Mormon) settlement, creating new networks of trade focused on growing frontier towns. But the seeds of the end are planted already in the irrigated fields of the Mormon settlers, and sometimes it seems as if the natives knew this too. Also, the topography through which the explorers travelled has now partly vanished behind the dams that have ruined Glen Canyon and other stretches of white water and canyon scenery. No one can now do what Dellenbaugh and his companions did; the sense of loss hovers unintentionally about every page.
Dellenbaugh was a keen observer (though perhaps a bit naive) with a talent for making even the monotony of running rapid after rapid spellbinding. One does feel that he may have veiled some of the conflicts that must have arisen in two (non-continuous) years of isolation, though if so this trait is refreshing in a world where we now expect everyone to tattle on everyone else. Every now and then just a shimmer of impatience with one of the crew seeps through. But the real hero who emerges from this book, somewhat surprisingly, is not the leader Powell -- the young Dellenbaugh seems never to have gotten close to him -- but rather the Prof., who rises to every challenge with decency and humaneness, and of whom Dellenbaugh seems to have been genuinely, and for good reason, in awe. Like Powell he is buried in Arlington Cemetery. He deserved that honor, but where he lives is in the pages of this book.

Love and respect for the Green and Colorado Rivers is greatly enhanced by Dellenbaugh's narritive of the 2nd Powell expadition. Well written, accurate history, and spell binding from start to finish. An adventure that can only be partially accomplished today is TOTALLY available in "A Canyon Voyage!"

At the time of the 2nd voyage down the Colorado, Dellenbaugh was on about 19 years old. He didn't write the book until many years later. What a wonderful/spellbinding look at the most beautiful place in North America (The Colorado Plateau). Not only that but I found it extremely hunorous as well. Great Great book!!!

I've long been fascinated with early exploration of the Colorado plateau area of the U.S. This book is fascinating particularly because the author wove together information from many sources rather than rely on just a single journal. By comparing what different men wrote about the same events on the same day, you feel like you've gotten a realistic view of what happened, toning down on Powell's indefatigable optimism and some of his companion's discovery of dire consequences behind every rock.

The one annoying part is that there are a few too many long deviations from the story to explore other threads. I think these were intended to provide background, especially to Powell's character. But too many times they just went on too long, into too much detail, particularly Powell's Civil War experiences. I certainly didn't expect to read quite so much about blood and gore in a story about Grand Canyon exploration during which no one died on the river or even seriously injured.

Nevertheless, this is a very good, can't-put-it-down read.

This is an exciting adventure story. The book describes the Powell Expedition's journey of exploration of the last unmapped area of the lower 48 -- the Colorado River and it's canyons (including the Grand Canyon).

These century and more ago adventure stories always amaze me as a modern reader. Major Powell and his group knew nothing about the Colorado River or the canyons. They didn't know if game would be available, they didn't know if the river contained just rapids or huge water falls like the Niagra. They didn't know how to run river rapids -- all of the men were hardy outdoors types (some courtesy of the Civil War completed four years before their great adventure). None of the men were boatmen and none had ever run white water.

Nevertheless, the intrepid Powell and his expedition started out on the Green River in present day Wyoming and followed it down through it's merger with the Colorado and through the Grand Canyon over the course of 100 days.

Powell was driven by the adventurer's quest to leave his mark and a love of Geology and natural history. His crew were driven by nothing more than youthful adventurism and wages. Although they lost one boat, had much of their food spoiled, went weeks without killing any game and regularly climbed rocky canyon sides for vantage points, no men were lost as part of the expedition. Several later expeditions following in their wake had men drown, die from falls and exposure and generally suffered for their lack of experience, planning and knowledge.

Powell was an enthusiastic leader -- and lucky. He had also left an arm in Tennessee courtesy of Confederate gunnery during the Battle of Shiloh. Powell endured his wilderness trip with one arm and -- this is incredible -- usually was one of his party who ascended canyon sides to take readings or scout the coming river conditions. There is an unbelievable story in the book of Powell being trapped on the side of a cliff, hanging on by one hand. His man above had to pull him up. With no rope, he had to take off his union suit, dangle it behind Powell and have Powell let go of the cliff in order to grab the lifeline and be pulled to safety.

The book has many thrilling vignettes like the one above. Their trip was hard work. About a third of the rapids encountered were portaged or lined instead of run. Portage was hard work -- unloading all the supplies, carrying them around the rapid, carrying the boats (made of heavy oak) around the rapids -- over rock and w/o shoes near the end of the trip. Lining was also hard, boats were let out through the rapid with rope and jumped around vantage points in order to get them safely through. But many rapids were run - some without adequate knowledge of what was in store, some because many parts of the canyons through which they traveled had no side landings over which to portage or line.

That these backward rowing men in boats designed to runabout placid harbors were not dashed to pieces and drowned ten times during their journey is amazing. It also makes for a heck of a good story.

The writing is good. The author makes much use of Powell's classic book on the trip -- as well as his river notes, and the journals of several other participants who have survived. The descriptions and story telling give as good of a "you are there" feel as a book can. He also cuts away at times to modern river runners to give an appreciation of how certain famous rapids look to people who run them for a living. This and dashes of geology and brief histories add a nice balance to the book.

It is amazing how these adventurers were willing to go blindly into "the great unknown." They stared death in the face and defeated it by a combination of luck, pluck and determination.

A good book for armchair adventurers.

(...) There was a cast of ten which made up the Colorado River Exploring Expedition . Led by John Wesley Powell. None of them had ‘white water' experience. Many were barely 20 and 7 were Union Army veterans. There was no record of persons having gone down the thousand miles of this journey so they were floating blind. It lasted 111 days.

They were to use wooden boats made in Chicago Illinois. They would put in at Green River Station, Wyoming at the point where the recently completed transcontinental railroad had been celebrated. It was chosen because the [4] boats could easily be delivered by rail freight to Green River Station from Chicago. (...) This is a history and Edward Dolnick has done his best to use the notes and writings of Powell, Summer, Bradley and other of the expedition. Powell's book was written some years later but the crew wrote more personal and soon after the trip. They reveal some pain and misery that Powell in his enthusiasm for the mission - geology exploration of the earth including flora and fawna - avoids.

Dolnick has also told the tales of others who ventured on the Colorado River and who were reported in the press of that day. But, none had done what this mission did; namely go the distance without any real briefing and not any knowledge of these tales. On the river they were out of touch with all - alone. A person of ill repute reported after the first month that the party had been destroyed by the river and only he had survived. He was widely published in the press including his tale of how he got on the expedition. But, like story tellers he had dates wrong and Emma Powell, John Wesley's young wife read the stuff and informed the press that he couldn't be believed. They did more research and began retracting the articles. The good effect of this was that the Expedition got more press than they had had before they left. Of course the voyagers did not learn of this until many months later.

Dolnick has a couple of chapters about Powell's military service as an artillery officer in the Grants army at Shiloh. Here Powell lost an arm which comes in for some interesting comments during the voyage down the rivers. Emma is a heroic and fascinating wife of great personal support to Powell. One of the boats is named after her; Emma Dean.

Dolnick seeks to tell it as it went along, not to sum things in advance. So there is an air of adventure - what will happen next?
Sumner was of great value to Powell and all the men seem to have followed the decisions - there Army training is reference as an aid in this respect. But, some of the trappers didn't cotton to the order giving; still they did their part.

There is detail about the boats and equipment - built in Chicago - the best for the lakes - but not properly designed for the river. But sturdy. Still they lose one to the rapid while still in the three hundred mile stretch of the Green River. And, 1/3rd of the food and other supplies went down with that crash.

Powell is the focal person. He had the crazy idea and he had the energy to make it happen with little money and little backing and many persons of repute advising against the venture. It is a crazy thing to do given the level of experience and knowledge that was the foundation of this expedition effort.
BUT - the beauty and grandeur does grab your imagination and it did theirs too.
They often stopped to look, if they could stop, or linger if camped at a place of special interest to Powell. They took side walking trips. And the number of times they climbed to get a better view of the prospects of the river ahead were legion. YOU are presented with their wonderment and deep appreciation for the trip - that seems to have been its saving grace. For they were called upon to live with privation and the rain. I couldn't believe the number of times they had severe rain storms especially in Arizona. (...)

The author has placed a little map of the segment of the river they were about to enter at the beginning of each chapter. It helps keep you oriented. There is also a photo section which provides enrichment of the principals and some locations.

Now, the story itself builds to a natural climax that will begin to grab you midway through the venture. You will sense the feeling of eternal repetition of the river and its mad behavior. It becomes a kind of tormenter. When will they be through with the trip? The men become restive and short tempered. They do not all like each other all the time by any means. And, although Dolnick doesn't stress this he has to report what they write in their notes. And, there reflections of the trip. They are caught up in the reality that they volunteered and they are responsible for their own fate; yet they are in a very intimate situation which requires them to note the flaws of others - especially the leader. It is hard work and Powell expect them to do their job. Because he has only one arm there are many tasks he cannot perform, this becomes an aggravation too, but they all knew this in the beginning. Yet there is, as Dolnick tells the story, a need to be loyal to the mission and the needs of others; and so they have their experiences where great joy and satisfaction is express by the group after some tough experience. (...)

Because it is a history, not a novel, the author tells of the future lives of the men. He tells what he can based on

I kept waiting for this book to get boring. It has all the potential to be boring. But it's not. It's an excellent introduction to the history of the West. I learned little tidbits about all sorts of varied subjects - Native American tribes, government, the history of the USGS. Stegner does get a little too wrapped up in the details at a couple points, especially when he gets into all the wrangling in Congress over Powell's various ventures, but in general it's an excellent book.

This classic work is a penetrating and insightful study of the public career of Maj. John Wesley Powell, from the beginning of the Powell Survey, which most famously had Powell and his men descend for the first time by anyone the Colorado River, to his eventual ouster from the Geological Survey. Stegner does a magnificent job of detailing both the myriad accomplishments by Powell in his remarkable career as public servant, but the philosophy and ideas that undergirded his work. Most readers at the end will conclude that the history of the United States might have proceeded differently had his profound insights into the nature of the American West been heeded.

Stegner writes in a lucid, clear, frequently exciting prose style. Although his history is solid, his writing is somewhat more. For example, at one point Stegner writes of one person who was more than a little deluded about the nature of the West: "The yeasty schemes stirring in Adams' head must have generated gases to cloud his eyesight." Especially in context a brilliant sentence, and not of the quality one anticipates in a historical work, especially one that deals at length with questions of public policy. The volume also contains an Introduction by Stegner's mentor and teacher Bernard DeVoto, an essay that contains in a few pages the heart of DeVoto's own understanding of the West, and which alone would be worth the cost of the volume.

Stegner does an excellent job of relating Powell's own insights and visions to those of others of the day. He contrasts Powell's philosophy with the desires and urges of the people who were rushing to obtain land in the West, and the politicians who were trying to lure them there. He points up similarities and differences in his way of looking at things, from those stoutly opposed to his views, and those in some degree sympathetic to him, like Charles King and the oddly omnipresent Henry Adams. From the earliest pages of the book to the very end, Stegner brings up Adams again and again, which is somewhat unexpected since Adams is not an essential participant in this story.

I have only two complaints with the book, one stylistic and the other substantive. The book contains a few maps but no photographs, and this book would have profited greatly from a number of illustrations. He refers to many, many visual things: vistas, rivers, people, paintings of the West, photographs of the West, maps, Indians, and locales, and at least a few photographs or illustrations would have greatly enhanced the book.

The second complaint is more serious. Stegner is completely unsympathetic to the attacks of Edward D. Cope on Othniel C. Marsh and, primarily by association, Powell. The Cope-Marsh controversy was, as Stegner quite rightly points out, the most destructive scientific controversy in United States history, and one that does absolutely no credit to either major participant. My complaint with Stegner's account is that he makes Cope sound more than a little psychotic, and his complaints more symptoms of mental illness and irrational hatred than anything generated by reasonable causes. Cope's hatred of Marsh was not rational, but neither was it baseless. Cope had indeed suffered grievously at the hands of Marsh, who had used his own considerable political power to prevent Cope from obtaining additional fossil samples. In this Powell was not completely innocent. I believe that anyone studying the Cope-Marsh controversy in greater detail will find Cope and not Marsh to be the more sympathetic figure, and certainly the more likable. The careers of both Cope and Marsh were destroyed by their controversy, but so also was that that of Powell greatly diminished. I can understand why Stegner is so unsympathetic to Cope, while at the same time believing that he overlooks the justness of many of Cope's complaints.

This book written in 1954 not only captures the story of this remarkable man, Major John W. Powell, but also discusses and reflects on the challenges of too many people living in the Western desert. As a resident of a now "drought impacted state" the wisdom of Powell's ideas and the lack of implementation of those ideas are represented in the chaos local and state governments are facing as they attempt to keep lawns green, golf courses open, and drinking water available for all of the "new" residences of the state. I only hope that some of this generations politicians pay attention to Powell's "topographical" analysis and begin shaping more effective land and water policy for the West. A terrific read with many classic Stegner quotes.

On May 24, 1869, Major John W. Powell, a one-armed veteran of the Civil War, along with nine others (geologists, geographers, scouts and adventurers), set out from Green River, Wyoming to explore the last great unmapped and unknown portion of the continental U.S. No man had ever descended the Colorado river as it cut its way through 1,000 miles of incredibly rugged badlands. However, Powell and his band of men completed a remarkable journey of exploration through this country.

A passage from Powell's narrative of the expedition, after they had been on the river nearly two months, conveys very well a perspective of the challenge Powell and his men faced, the courage they demonstrated and Powell's matter of fact, but powerful writing style.

"We are now ready to start on our way down the Great Unknown. Our boats, tied to a common stake, chafe each other as they are tossed by the fretful river. They ride high and buoyant, for their loads are lighter than we could desire. We have but a month's rations remaining. The flour has been resifted through the mosquito-net sieve; the spoiled bacon has been dried and the worst of it boiled; the few pounds of dried apples have been spread in the sun and reshrunken to their normal bulk. The sugar has all melted and gone on its way down the river. But we have a large sack of coffee. The lightening of the boats has this advantage--they will ride the waves better; and we shall have but little to carry when we make a portage. We are three quarters of a mile in the depths of the earth and the great river shrinks into insignificance as it dashes its angry waves against the walls and cliffs that rise to the world above. The waves are but puny ripples. We are but pigmies, running up and down among the sands or lost among the boulders. We have an unknown distance yet to run, an unknown river to explore. What falls there are, we know not. What rocks beset the channel, we know not. What walls rise over the river, we know not. Ah, well! We may conjecture many things. The men talk as cheerfully as ever. To me, the cheer is somber and the jests ghastly."

This book is a classic tale of exploration and discovery!

John Wesley Powell, for better or worse, made the American West what it is today. He was the primary founder of the Bureau of Reclamation, the agency that has vandalized the West, and of the United States Geological Service. He also completed the last great feat of exploration on American soil when he and his cohorts undertook the voyage that is the main subject of this book. That the book combines two voyages into one epic adventure is not widely known, but it does not detract from the narrative to any meaningful extent.

Powell's narrative of the so-called Grand Canyon voyage is simply, yet powerfully, written, even carrying touches of the poetic. It is easy to sense his feelings of awe and wonder, particularly in exploring the canyons themselves. Powell never put his main function, scientific discovery, out of mind until the race through the Grand Canyon became one against the calendar as well as the power of the river. Even then, his writing evidences a sense of charity and concern toward his men.

Powell's narrative evokes many vivid memories of the beauty and timelessness of the country he explored, particularly his writings on the now-vanished Glen Canyon. It seems a pity, somehow, that much of what he saw is buried under stagnant, polluted reservoirs, the worst of which ironically carries his name. Would this brilliant, feeling man approve? I do not think so.

The growing recognition of the role native Americans have played in our country's history and development would find a more sympathetic vein with Powell, and his studies of ethnography and acclimatation to the arid habitat by native Americans may prove a more lasting memoir. These parts of the book should be read with equal care.

As to the canyons themselves, Powell would be the first to tell you that the artificial plug of stone at Page, Arizona, is only temporary, and that, as with the volcanic debris at Lava Falls, the river will soon have its way again.

makes you feel like you are there, check out the song mr. powell by the ozark mountain daredevils.

The book is well written and informative about the events of Powell's life and the geological survey in which Powell played such a major role. My primary disappointment with the book was that I felt I didn't know the person John W. Powell much better after reading the book. The book provided very little information about Powell's life outside of his work.

Reading this book was like being present at the creation of America. It will appeal especially to U.S. history buffs and to anyone interested in the American West. Worster's telling of the feat that won Powell fame, leading the first expedition down the Colorado River and through the Grand Canyon, has definitely renewed my passion for exploring the West. Powell was a man of ideas, as well as action. For a quarter century he was at the forefront of debates over reserving land for American Indians, how to foster family farming in the arid West, and the thorny issue of water rights. For many years, Powell was a prominent official in Washington, as head of the U.S. Geological Survey, which he helped create, and in other positions. From what I gather in this book, Powell may have been as important as any single individual in making support of scientific research a normal function of the Federal Government. From the perspective of one man's career, Worster touches on a multitude of topics: railroads, telegraph, photography, landscape painting of the West, Mormon settlements, and many more. For the comprehension one gains of American life in those times, this biography is the equal of a first rate novel. Although a work of scholarship, it is written to be enjoyed by the general reader.

I enjoyed this book immensely. Thorough, evocative, thrilling, and comprehensive in its scope, it was a delight from beginning to end.
I completed a major in Geography at Illinois State University many years ago, where Powell taught at one time, and I am embarrassed to admit the sad truth that in all the courses I took nary a word was ever mentioned about the great man. Considering his extraordinary contribution to our understanding of the natural world, it is all too sad.

The River is Mine: A refreshing splash of foolhardy pioneer derring-do. Based on the diary of one member of the party, we join the band of suicical explorers plunging blindly down uncharted waters with high hopes of succeeding either in making the headlines of history or the obits.

Ardian Gill's The River Is Mine is a superbly crafted novel of John Wesley Powell's 1869 exploration of the Green and Colorado rivers and the Grand Canyon. Vibrantly and vividly told, embracing both the expedition's hardships and the majesty of the Grand Canyon itself, The River Is Mine is a highly recommended, powerful presented, and emotionally involving fictionalization which is accurately based on a genuine historical episode of 19th Century American exploration.

I marvel at the language I find in this narrative. It seems to move with the river and follow its powerful flow through a land that is both marvelous and frightening. Perhaps this clear, fluent language is the result of Mr. Gill's years of examining things through a camera lense and bringing images to light in darkrooms. Mr. Gill is obviously armed with the perfect vocabulary to write this book of men's actions on the big brown god full of dragons and sacred places where light and word converge to produce a beautiful narrative.

This book will hurt to read. The Eliot Porter photos show what has been lost to our generation by the grossly irresponsible act of damning Glen Canyon. However the book also shows what has been saved in pictures of the Grand Canyon. May we know by our failure at Glen Canyon what to protect, and why, in the future.

Powell's own narrative, of course, forms the main written portion of the book, and its direct, yet eloquent, writings should remain a strong part of the story of what it is to be an American. Equal parts dry text and awed wonder, it is a must read.

A spiffy book, in the same vein as the acclaimed Sierra Club format series, of which I suspect this book may have been intended to be part. Enjoy this essential part of any Western library.

Reading Powell's account of traveling to the Hopi lands in the 1870's is a truly fascinating story. Instead of giving details of his own hardships, he chose to stick to the facts of the journey and of the way of life of the Hopi people. I would have given this 5 stars if it weren't for the cheesy introduction and the distracting, poorly executed illustrations.

As prior reviews state, the text is well-selected from Powell's journal, and the photographs are superb. But how can the author publish the journal of an explorer without a map keyed to the dates of journal entries? The photographs are superb, but again, not keyed to a map, or even associated with the text. The identifying data for each photo is listed in the front of the book, but is not given on, or near the photograph. A potentially superb book, but, because of these defects and faults, one that is maddening to read.

This book was terrible. I couldn't finish it. The dialoge was sophomoric. There wasnt any character development. A complete waste of time.

One can only hope the the Last Canyon is Mr. Vernon's last book. Flat characters; flat imagery; sophomoric dialogue; silly, forced, disconnected scenes: the genuis here is that one truly celebrates the end of Powell's journey becasue it also coincides with the end of Mr. Vernon's prose. One wishes Mr. Powell's journey had ended 300 hundred pages sooner.

As John Wesley Powell and his crew of nine follow the Green and Colorado Rivers through uncharted territory into the Grand Canyon in 1869, Vernon imbues them with so much energy and strength that this fictional account of their journey feels like the real thing--more like a well-written memoir than a flight of imagination. His depictions of the canyons, mesas, geological strata, and the always changing river are so precise and vivid that they feel more like great photographs than prose. His descriptions of the heat and privation have the intensity of old sermons of hellfire and damnation.

With a lyricism as masculine and vigorous as the characters of his story, Vernon tells of two parallel, and eventually intersecting, journeys--the famous journey of John Wesley Powell and his crew on the river, and the fictional journey of a family of Paiute (Shivwits) Indians across the high mesas, as they try to reclaim a daughter which the father sold to Mormons in exchange for two guns. Vernon alternates these narratives in successive sections, bringing the ironies of the two journeys into sharp focus. The Powell expedition fights the forces of nature and is often at the mercy of the elements, struggling with equipment and scientific instruments, and in danger of running out of food. The Shivwits, on the other hand, are in communion with nature, comfortable in their belief that nature will provide, as it always has--their struggle, of course, being to preserve their lands and culture.

Vernon is a remarkable writer, equally adept at all aspects of writing--action sequences on the river, dialogues ranging from humorous to rancorous, insights into the characters' thinking, and a faithful adherence to the writing style of the period. His ability to present very different descriptions of the same geographical features, as seen separately by the Paiutes and explorers, is nothing short of amazing. This is a beautifully written, very masculine story of exploration and cultural conflict, one that should not be missed by anyone fascinated by tales of outdoor adventure and exploration.