Mr. R.W. Raymond gives the following interesting account of the remarkable scenery on this recently opened route from Denver to Salt Lake:

Having just made the trip from Salt Lake City to this place on the Denver & Rio Grande line, I cannot write you on any other subject at present. There is not in the world a railroad journey of thirty hours so filled with grand and beautiful views. I should perhaps qualify this statement by deducting the hours of darkness; yet this is really a fortunate enhancement of the traveler's enjoyment; it seems providential that there is one part of the way just long enough and uninteresting enough to permit one to go to sleep without the fear of missing anything sublime. Leaving Salt Lake City at noon, we sped through the fertile and populous Jordan Valley, past the fresh and lovely Utah Lake, and up the Valley of Spanish Fork. All the way the superb granite walls and summits of the Wahsatch accompanied us on the east, while westward, across the wide valley, were the blue outlines of the Oquirrh range. One after another of the magnificent cañons of the Wahsatch we passed, their mouths seeming mere gashes in the massive rock, but promising wild and rugged variety to him who enters--a promise which I have abundantly tested in other days.

Parley's Cañon, the Big and Little Cottonwood, and most wonderful of all, the cañon of the American Fork, form a series not inferior to those of Boulder, Clear Creek, the Platte, and the Arkansas, in the front range of the Rockies.

Following Spanish Fork eastward so far as it served our purpose, we crossed the divide to the head waters of the South Fork of Price River, a tributary of Green River. It was a regret to me, in choosing this route, that I should miss the familiar and beloved scenery of Weber and Echo cañons--the only part of the Union Pacific road which tempts one to look out of a car window, unless one may be tempted by the boundless monotony of the plains or the chance of a prairie dog. Great was my satisfaction, therefore, to find that this part of the new road, parallel with the Union Pacific, but a hundred miles farther south, traverses the same belt of rocks, and exhibits them in forms not less picturesque. Castle Cañon, on the South Fork of the Price, is the equivalent of Echo Cañon, and is equal or superior in everything except color. The brilliant red of the Echo cliffs is wanting. The towers and walls of Castle Cañon are yellowish-gray. But their forms are incomparably various and grotesque--in some instances sublime. The valley of Green River at this point is a cheerless sage-brush desert, as it is further north.

To be sure, this uninviting stream, a couple of hundred miles further south, having united with the Grande, and formed the Rio Colorado, does indeed, by dint of burrowing deeper and deeper into the sunless chasms, become at last sublime. But here it gives no hint of its future somber glory. I remained awake till we had crossed Green River, to make sure that no striking scenery should be missed by sleep. But I got nothing for my pains except the moonlight on the muddy water; and next time I shall go to bed comfortably, proving to the conductor that I am a veteran and not a tender-foot.

In the morning, we breakfasted at Cimarron, having in the interval passed the foot-hills of the Roan Mountains, crossed the Grande, and ascended for some distance the Gunnison, a tributary of the Grande, the Uncompahgre, a tributary of the Gunnison, and finally a branch, flowing westward, of the Uncompahgre. A high divide at the head of the latter was laboriously surmounted; and then, one of our two engines shooting ahead and piloting us, we slid speedily down to Cimarron. It is in such descents that the unaccustomed traveler usually feels alarmed. But the experience of the Rio Grande Railroad people is, that derailment is likely to occur on up-grades, and almost never in going down.

From this point, comparison with the Union Pacific line in the matter of scenery ceases. As everybody knows, that road crosses the Rocky Mountains proper in a pass so wide and of such gradual ascent that the high summits are quite out of sight. If it were not for the monument to the Ameses, there would be nothing to mark the highest point. For all the wonderful scenery on the Rio Grande road, between Cimarron and Pueblo, the Union Pacific in the same longitudes has nothing to show. From an artistic stand-point, one road has crossed the ranges at the most tame and uninteresting point that could be found, and the other at the most picturesque.

At Cimarron, the road again strikes the Gunnison, and plunges into the famous Black Cañon. In length, variety, and certain elements of beauty, such as forest-ravines and waterfalls, this cañon surpasses the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas. There is, however, one spot in the latter (I mean, of course, the point where the turbulent river fills the whole space between walls 2,800 ft. high, and the railroad is hung over it) which is superior in desolate, overwhelming grandeur to anything on the Gunnison. Take them all in all, it is difficult to say which is the finer. I have usually found the opinion of travelers to favor the Gunnison Cañon. But why need the question be solved at all? This one matchless journey comprises them both; and he who was overwhelmed in the morning by the one, holds his breath in the afternoon before the mighty precipices of the other. To excuse myself from even hinting such folly as a comparison of scenery, I will merely remark that these two cañons are more capable of a comparison than different scenes usually are; for they belong to the same type--deep cuts in crystalline rocks.

Between them come the Marshall Pass (nearly 11,000 ft. above sea-level), over the continental divide, and the Poncha Pass, over the Sangre di Cristo range. This range contains Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Elbert, Massive (the peak opposite Leadville), and other summits exceeding the altitude of 14,000 ft. To the east of it is the valley of the Arkansas, into which and down which we pass, and so through the Royal Gorge to Cañon City and Pueblo, where we arrived before dark on the day after leaving Salt Lake.

Salt Lake, the Jordan Valley, Utah Lake, the Wahsatch, Castle Cañon, the Black Cañon of the Gunnison, Marshall Pass, Poncha Pass, the Arkansas Valley, the Royal Gorge--what a catalogue for so brief a journey! No wonder everybody who has made it is "wild about it!" If enthusiastic urgency of recommendation from every passenger has any influence (and I know it has a great deal), this road will continue to be, as it is at present, crowded with tourists. It furnishes a delightful route for those who wish on the overland journey to see Denver (as who does not?) and to visit Colorado Springs and Manitou. All this can be done en route, without retracing the steps.