LEGEND OF THE SANGRE DE CRISTO MOUNTAINS EXPLAINED

Some of my favorite mountains. Especially around Westcliffe. I have climbed the northernmost peak south of Salida. Simmons Peak. Not bad for a flatlander from Texas. I also climbed Mt. Antero in the Sawatch Range. 14,000’. This was during geology field camp.

A lot of remote wilderness in those mountains. They are truly awesome. I think there are still grizzlies in there.

https://www.iment.com/maida/family/father/jackbell/Jack-Bell-Prospector-and-Naturalist-39.htm#cristo1

The Glorious Glow of the Sangre de Cristo I
Nevada State Journal, December 17, 1922

Jack Bell Describes Beauties of Nature Wingfield Park is Place of Real Charm Unequalled Anywhere, He Declares

Gorgeous beyond compare, incomparable in the many-hued shades and the changes of awesome beauty, uncannily weird, majestically beautiful in coloring, of such magnificence and wonderful glow that it holds one spellbound and stuns the senses while the reds, with indescribable loveliness, spread over the sky, the earth and all therein, is - that glorious luminescence - the Sangre de Cristo glow. On two occasions last summer, this inexplainable phenomenon appeared over the Sierra Nevada mountains, and was best viewed from Inspiration Point at George Wingfield park.

It was the first time of any known record that this soul-satisfying view has been had over the Sierras. The name, Sangre de Christo glow, comes from the Sangre de Christo mountains situate in mid-center Colorado, famous the world over for their grand peaks, numbering almost a thousand. In altitudes from 12,000 up to over 14,000 feet, and which cut through that state for a distance of 100 miles - the wonder scenic range of mountains in the entire universe.

Spaniards Saw It First

It was when the early Spaniards were exploring the primal southwest for riches. The caravan came up from Mexico, suffering untold hardships. Soldiers, slaves and the soldiers of fortune composed the party. On and on they toiled through the deserts and over the mountain passes, and some time in the late fall they arrived in the Wet Mountain valley. They made camp in the late afternoon on the far east side of the valley, on what is now known as Silver creek.
Miles above, and parallel with the range, was the vapor, for all the world like the handiwork of giant artisans, the clouds lying over the skyline of picket fence-like peaks that stood out in relief against the heavens. The peculiar layer upon layer of lace-like, film-like covering, seemed to be of the thickness of a few hundred feet. Compact, with the edges studded with the heavier, denser scale-looking moisture of white, and not another single cloud in the immensity of the molybdenum blue sky. As the sun drops down behind the Cochetopa hills, the clouds turn into leaden grey for the fraction of a minute.

Faint Fire Color First

Then, along the western edge of the great capping of clouds, appears a faint, fire-like color. It begins to rise and waver as the sun sinks deeper into the horizon. Now the glow of the Sangre de Cristo begins to creep across the barrier of clouds in the high ether. The living bloodred spreads and billows across the background of clouds in parallel rays for the entire length. Perfectly timed, perfectly spaced they appear as they run across nature’s screen. The red of blood, in its passage through the background of lesser red haze, the blue of the sky above glows and hues upon the earth and all, while upon the landscape, the weaving, changing colors multiply and make distorted changes, as the lights fade and magnify in their extreme vividness. The mountain streams appear as molten running metal, the trees, upon each leaf the red glow shines, tracing each and every little detail of all living and inanimate things upon the terrain. The effects are ghostly and unreal. The birds of the air and the beasts of the field remain immobile with the passing of the glow - all is stilled with the quiet of a world house of worship.

The tired Spanish grandees, soldiers and slaves gathered about their fires as the eventide approached. The sun dropped behind the range of mountains - the chill of October was in the air. They wrapped their capes and blankets closely about them, preparatory to much needed rest.
Sight Awes Spaniards

With electrifying suddenness, the lights of blood red in the corrogations began to flash under and in the clouds. The Spaniards cast themselves upon their knees, crossed themselves and looked upon the marvelous scene staged by the creator of all things. With muttered prayer they humbled themselves, and watched with superstitious awe and, breathlessly, with outspoken fervor and loud pleadings, asked to be forgiven their sins - to be saved from destruction.

“It is the sign - the sign of Sangre de Cristo,” they cried.
Then one of their number cried out in agonized tones of fright and, with the red, blood-red glow casting itself over and round him, he pointed into the northwest and there, standing forth in the majesty of perfection with the glow waxing strong and growing dim, stood the perfect outline of a perfect crucifix, and when the light faded in intense tone, the dark lines of the perfect cross stood out in white relief, the snow in the breaks of formation being filled with white, the red halo covering and quivering over the whole. This is the present Mount of the Holy Cross, up the Continental divide.

As the sun sank lower and lower, the blood reds were replaced by cinnabar red, and on and on through the variations of red colors. Soon the edges of the miles of broad, parallel rays that were in eivdence through the clouds begin to fade. Now the edges of the bars become darker and darker as the leaden colors of the night meet and dissipate the glows and multi-reds. Night falls with desert suddenness. The mist that hung over the range dissipates, the white stars gleam and sparkle, the night birds wend their various ways, in the beyond the coyote yelps his weird taps to the departing day, and the stillness is only broken by the animal prowlers of the night. The reveille appeared with the glory of a desert-mountain morning. The Spaniards and their train, at first peep of day, looked in vain for some indication of the thrilling, unheard of display of the night before.

Take Sign as Warning

The legends handed down by the Indian sages of the southwest tribes of Indians seem to bear out the fact that this party of fortune seekers turned back the morning after this display of nature - their argument, so the tale recites, being that the “Sign of the Sangre de Cristo” was a warning to return from whence they came. As a matter of fact, there appears no work of mining done by the Spaniards in this vicinity, or further north than Rita Alta peak.
Briefly, the cause of this phenomenon is the inverted corpuscles in the air when clouds attain a certain height, and lie directly over the mountain range - but the sight is rare, as has been told. The lights last from two to three minutes.
...

https://www.iment.com/maida/family/father/jackbell/Jack-Bell-Prospector-and-Naturalist-39.htm#cristo2

The Glorious Glow of the Sangre de Cristo II
Nevada State Journal, December 24, 1922

The back of the stage at the Santa Fe opera is wholly open to the Sangre de Christo mountains in the background. On some days, when the atmospherics are just right, effect at dusk is amazing, simply beyond description

What an amazing stage on which to let nature perform.

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ping

What prospecting did you do in Texas? Just curious ;-)

I grew up in those mountains.

Bump for later read.

I was going to make a similar comment. Those cool evenings with the sun on the mountains as the opera begins are magical.

I poked around a few old mines but mostly what I found was fool’s gold. Then, I decided that I would make a concerted effort to find black gold. I threw my pick and gold pan away for a drilling rig.

As far as in Texas, I have worked the whole state but mostly drilled wells along the Gulf Coast and North and East Texas. Several in Mississippi. The closest to you would be Columbus, Conroe, and Corpus.

They are really a whole different ecosystem than the dry valleys below. I really wished I could have climbed Wheeler Peak when I was out there, but had rolled and sprung my ankle coming down Mount Elbert to the north.

One of my sons went to a school that climbed Wheeler Peak every year as a senior trip. I have skied many days at Angel Fire and stared at it.

Dad and I walked from Iron Gate in the Pecos Wilderness to north of Culebre and to the top of the peaks on the way. It took several trips. I would drive non stop from Fort Smith and we would walk as far as possible when we arrived. Great times with my best friend. He has been gone 21 years in January. There will never be another like him. We both seemed to know when to talk and when to be silent and we both believed in working until the job was done no matter how hard or how long it took. We could work for hours and hours together. Sure do miss him.

Good times, for sure.

Save

Went with a crew of 7 Boy Scouts and 3 adult leaders to Philmont Scout Ranch in 1990. Backpacking through the Sangre de Cristo range for 10 days was truly a grand event.

Baldy Mountain, from the peak of Mount Phillips in the northern section of PSR.