[Transcript]

Steady Progress Underground

Foreman Grasser was three hours into his morning shift. It was the fifth month of construction on the Gunnison Tunnel, and despite financial troubles and the resignation of the original contractor, things were finally looking up. Progress had been steady.

So far, nearly 700 feet had been carved on the west side of the canyon alone. The tunnel was dark and deafening, lit only by the flicker of candles. The air pump roared endlessly in the background.

It was the mechanical lifeline, keeping the men from suffocating. Around Grasser, the rhythm of the work echoed off the jagged walls, the sharp clang of picks, the thud of shovels biting into dirt, the rhythmic pounding of rock drills. Grasser was a seasoned foreman, and had long since learned to tune out the noise.

Grueling Work Conditions

He no longer tensed with every pick strike or hammer blow, but the work still wore on him. The drills were as basic as they were brutal. A long steel chisel was held in place by one man, while another swung an eight-pound sledgehammer with all his might.

Teams of two to four took turns driving the drill deeper into the rock, inch by grueling inch. After a couple of hours, the hole might be two or three feet deep, just enough to fit some blasting powder. The work was slow, exhausting, and dangerous.

Shards of stone flew with every strike, and a misplaced hammer swing could leave broken fingers, or worse. There had been talk of bringing in jackhammers, new machines that could speed things along. They'd be louder, sure, but they'd get the job done faster.

For now, though, it was all picks, drills, and raw muscle. Grasser walked along the mining tracks, his lantern swaying slightly with each step. Every so often, he stopped to inspect the 12-foot ceiling, scanning for trouble.

Around him, the tunnel was alive with movement. Muckers and trammers darted past, pushing heavy carts of broken rock and dirt back towards the surface. The air was oppressive.

Over 90 degrees, with humidity so thick, it felt like breathing through a wet rag. Sweat stung his eyes. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, gritty with dust.

He took a moment to steady himself, tilting his bowler hat back as he surveyed the tunnel ahead. Then, tick! Something struck the brim of his hat. A tiny pebble.

Grasser chuckled, thumbing it off. His gaze flicked ahead to the timber crew. They were hauling thick beams from the forest of the Uncompahgre Valley, replacing the narrow, temporary supports with wider, sturdier timbers.

A Warning Sign

Towards him walked Mr. Smithley, one of the timber workers. He stepped forward, his brow furrowed in concentration, deep shadows flickering in the candlelight. His face was unreadable, but his expression seemed somehow off.

Grasser didn't like it. Smithley raised his lantern, its dim glow flickering against the tunnel walls. He peered up at the timber supports, and Grasser followed his gaze.

There, just above them, a thin trickle of dust and dirt sifted down from the beams. Stop, Smithley barked, lifting a hand to silence the men behind him. A low, ominous groan vibrated throughout the rock, a sound no worker ever wanted to hear.

The Tunnel Collapse

Grasser's stomach dropped. Get out, Smithley roared. Grasser and his crew turned to run, but it was already too late.

The ceiling collapsed with the force of a thunderclap, the air filled with the deafening chaos of falling rock and the screams of men. Dust exploded into every crevice, choking the light from their lanterns and turning the world into a suffocating black void. Tons of dirt and stone rained down, smashing beams and burying everything beneath.

Grasser was thrown against the wall, his head spinning. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. He tried to shout for his men, but his mouth filled with dirt and dust.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the collapse ended. The last rock settled, and the last echoes died. Silence.

Grasser was alive. Somewhere in the crushing dark, others might be too. He had to dig, he had to move.

But first, he needed to figure out which way was up.

Take the Black Canyon of the Gunnison Audio Tour with Shaka Guide and explore at your own pace with stories, directions, and must-see stops along the way.

Still planning? Check out our Black Canyon of the Gunnison Itinerary and Know Before You Go guide to prep for an epic day.

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