Archives of the Twelfth Headwaters Conference, November 2-4, 2001
Maps, Perception, and Place
by Phil Crossley, Geography
Western State College
Prepared for 12th Headwaters Conference
Introduction
Maps distort, confuse, simplify, generalize, and mislead. For those of us accustomed to using maps for identification, clarification, verification, and redirection these characterizations may be startling. We are accustomed to regarding maps as accurate sources of information—perhaps even ‘truth'—about locations, terrain, and features, using them for way finding, and as arbiters of disputes. Nevertheless, with only a little thought we can easily accept the reality of the inherent simplifications and generalizations that mapping entails. Indeed, as Monmonier (1996, 1) notes, not only can maps lie, they must.
In the following discussion we summarize ways in which maps must distort and generalize, and can incidentally and deliberately convey selective information and misinformation. Our emphasis is on ways in which cartographers' choices during mapmaking may lead to distinct perceptions about places and place, and the Headwaters region in particular.
Inherent distortions and generalizations of maps
The major distortions and generalizations inherent in maps are those of projection, scale, and symbolism. The transfer of information about a more or less spherical world onto paper or screen always distorts, distance, shape, area, direction or, most often, a combination of these aspects. Maps generally represent the world more accurately in some sections than in others. Of course, these factors are more important considerations in maps of very small scale—those representing the world, a continent, or other large area—and most maps deflect the distortions and greatest inaccuracies to regions of the world of presumed less interest. We are all accustomed to disregarding the size and shape of Antarctica on most world maps, for example. Fewer of us may be attuned to the need to mentally contract the area of Canada's or Russia's northlands.
While the distortions inherent in map projections are of less concern in the larger scale maps we typically use in daily life, to represent even short distances or local areas on small sheets of paper nevertheless requires considerable simplification and generalization if the map is to be intelligible. We all show our awareness of this every time we draw a map on a party invitation or describe a cognitive map to visiting friends calling as they approach town on their summer vacation. Each of us decides—with little forethought—which few landmarks and features to include . Rarely would such maps include details of the tree belt along the irrigation ditch at which we often stop to listen for red-wing blackbirds on our daily walk, the fences delineating and controlling the rancher's property to the north of our house, the neighbor's junk cars and weedy lawn, nor the avalanche chutes on the mountains in the distance. These details of our life, the place we live, and our experience in it, are precisely the factors that distinguish our place from every other and that contribute to our sense of place. While we believe that we share these affections and experiences with the others at our party or conference, and while we hope that our visitors will experience some of what we feel for this place, our map leaves them out. We have to in order for the map to be useful.
These simplifications of basic, "directions to my house" maps that reflect both the map's purpose and the limitations imposed by the scale at which we have to map even our small part of the world, are compounded in commercially or institutionally-produced smaller scale maps of slightly larger regions.
The reason for preparing a road map, for example, requires that certain features (lines that represent roads, intersections etc.) be emphasized. Even with the cartographic priority being the accurate representation of distances between road junctions, the road surface, and highway type, the sinuosity of the road must nevertheless be generalized, as must the number of farm or back country access roads. Without such generalization, the map would be too busy for practical labeling of the features, even if their positions could be accurately shown. Furthermore, though good map makers follow strict standards for positional accuracy and the size of the symbols used (1), the lines that represent roads—if converted to their actual widths using the map's scale—are almost always wider than the width of the actual road in the landscape.
Similarly, even the large scale topographic maps we often use when we want more precise information about locations, terrain, and landscape features must also compromise positional accuracy at times in order to preserve clarity. They may also deliberately omit certain information such as important archaeological or military sites in order to preserve or obscure them (2).
An additional, common form of inaccuracy in maps is that created by the use of symbols to represent features such as campsites, historical points of interest, etc. On maps whose primary purpose is to facilitate way finding, there is often considerable space between roads and settlements in which cartographers can place symbols for locations, activities etc, in which the presumed users of the map may be interested. Such symbols, however, are almost always considerably larger than the feature they represent. Few of us would be mislead by this aspect alone, yet it is important to acknowledge that the size of the symbols used is important in determining which additional information can be included in the map, and how accurately it can be positioned.
None of these observations should surprise us, yet when we simply regard maps as documents containing information about the landscape, we risk being mislead by aspects of mapping that are inherently inaccurate (3). The maps we make, the features we include, and how accurately we represent them depend on why we are mapping, and for whom the map is made.
Connotations of Maps
As several authors have noted, maps issued by a government agency, statements of the level of accuracy, precision, and timeliness of the data on which the map is based, and adherence to certain cartographic conventions are often interpreted as indications that the map is true, reliable, and complete (e.g. MacEachren 1995, 338-340; Wood 1992; Wright 1942). Even if, or when, we know that this is not true, familiarity with such maps, past experience of finding the map to have been an accurate representation of a particular feature or set of relationships, or simply bias in favor of maps that look accurate (the published map versus the hand drawn) can easily lead us into ignoring or overlooking the implied meanings and agenda of maps.
Though we know that maps cannot show everything, that the map maker has chosen which features to represent, unless we are very careful we are easily led to think that what is depicted is more important than what is not (MacEachren 1995, 334). What the agenda is behind a particular map, or mapping agency such as the USGS, may not be clear even though decisions to include certain landscape features (power lines, some types of buildings) but not others (toxic waste dumps, sacred sites of aboriginal peoples etc.) are clearly deliberate. Indeed, they suggest a lack of the neutrality that is implied by other aspects of the maps (MacEachren 1995, 334-5).
Reference here to the agenda or connotations of the USGS topographic maps so many of us use in our professional or recreational lives is not to imply that these maps are particularly guilty of "hidden meanings". Rather, the point is that even these have connotations that warrant consideration and reflection by map users, and that if these do, how much more so the other maps we use and encounter.
Others have been more insistent that maps create certain views of the world, at least if they are read uncritically, and do not merely imply or represent them (e.g. Harley 1989; Wood 1992). One of Wood's contentions is that maps are often not merely about presenting a summary of features, but that very often they are used as a basis for establishing ownership, to link territory with claims of possession of all that comes with it (Wood 1992, 10). It is for this reason he asserts we all need to be map critics, looking for the underlying messages about who is entitled to what and conversely, who, by virtue of their lack of representation in ‘the' map, is denied possession, significance, or existence.
Realization that not only do maps represent certain attitudes and claims about places, they also have considerable potential to portray those claims as already ‘in place' and to become the frame of reference for subsequent discussion, has been an important catalyst of "community" mapping efforts (e.g. Sale 1993; Aberly 1993; House 1993). Further, those with the best access to information, the means to make maps and encode in them their view of the world, and the willingness to go to the effort of producing maps often have the best opportunity to benefit from subsequent decisions and plans made using the map (House 1993).
Inherent Limitations and Problematic Aspects of Thematic Maps
Thematic maps are prepared to portray particular phenomena, usually with reference to one or more other factors. Maps of test results by school district, elk habitat, or areas destroyed by forest fires, are all examples thematic maps. Because the interest is in a particular question or issue, few, if any, other details of the region are indicated on the map. In such maps complex processes or movement are commonly indicated by arrows, boundaries by precise lines, greater magnitude by larger symbol size etc. In the type known as the choropleth map, entire regions are characterized by a single color, shade, or pattern corresponding to the degree or proportion in which a particular phenomenon has been observed.
An example of such a map might be a map of all U.S. counties on which each county is portrayed according to the annual percentage of sunny days. While such a map could be used to decide whether to pack a rain jacket for a trip to a particular destination, it would be useless for analyzing the probability that a flood might occur at that location.
Few of us are likely to fail to recognize the specific theme of such a map, nor to attempt to use one to derive information about non-mapped phenomena. Nevertheless, thematic maps do have considerable potential to influence our perceptions of a region. Further, several aspects of how these maps are created, and may therefore significantly influence our interpretations, warrant our attention.
Since the data on which such maps are based are generally gathered by people working for governmental agencies, educational institutions, or commercial ventures, data are most often mapped according to political or administrative boundaries that may have little relevance to the phenomenon of concern. Nevertheless, because the data are compiled in this fashion, the phenomena mapped often display patterns that reflect the administrative boundaries, rather than the actual nature of variation in the phenomena.
This tendency is further compounded by the necessity of aggregating the data over the entire mapping unit (county, park, state etc), when, in fact, there may be considerable variability and unconformity of the phenomena in question within the administrative unit used for mapping. A map of median house value by county, for example, would show a single value for all of Gunnison county, and obscure important differences relating to position relative to flight paths, mountain views, student-oriented apartment complexes, etc. Interpretation of the map solely in terms of the factors shown on the map can often, or perhaps invariably, result in misunderstanding the causes of the spatial patterns observed.
Additional characteristics of choropleth maps that are crucial to accurate interpretation are also easily manipulated to suggest certain interpretations and not others. Color hue, value, and intensity, color or grayscale combinations and sequences, and patterns or fills can all be used to imply or accentuate continuity of mapped phenomena, and correlation between location and observed pattern. Every cartography manual spends considerable time discussing the best ways to use these features and relationships so as to avoid miscommunication, to facilitate quick and accurate interpretations, and most professional map makers are anxious to avoid preparation of maps that unintentionally mislead. (4) The map reader, though, must remain aware of the potential for misunderstanding any thematic map, for being mislead by the cartographer's interpretation of the data, the interpretation he or she wishes to convey, and deliberate or accidental use of colors, patterns, etc. to promote a particular understanding.
Similarly, the ways that data are grouped, or classified, for quick map interpretation also have a significant tendency to influence our interpretation. For choropleth maps to be effective—that is, quickly and easily understood by most readers—the cartographer must decide how many classes the data range will be divided into, and what the range of data will be for each group or class of data. Again, cartographers usually follow conventions and seek to avoid creating misinterpretations due to the choices they make . They must make the choices, though, and each map can only show the results of one set of choices. Thus, considerable potential for deliberate or unintentional promotion of a particular interpretation exists every time a range of data characteristic of a population or region is mapped.
It is also fairly easy to map one set of data in relation to another, but by using data gathering methods that relate to a third criteria, imply that the first phenomena is related to the third, rather than the second. The percentage of students passing a certain test, for example, could be displayed on a thematic map in relation to (normalized by) certain ethnic categories, but by representing the results solely in terms of the county or district in which they live, the map may obscure economic factors that may be more germane than the street address.
Choropleth maps, then, are particularly prone to both deliberate and unintentional representation of a certain interpretation of phenomena. The inherent ‘problems' of these maps, though, is why conscientious cartographers insist that multiple maps using different color and data classification schemes be prepared from the same data and presented for analysis (Monmonier 1993, 185).
As we focus our discussion on senses of place conveyed by maps, then, the questions we must continually ask are: Whose map is this? Why was it made? And for whom? Additional questions that must be asked, and that may aid in answering the first set, are: What is represented and what is not? What is claimed or implied about the region by a map title, theme or the particular features mapped? And are particular cartographic techniques used to create or imply certain meanings and interpretations?
Maps and Sense of Place
Knowledge about the landscape, or lack of it, and the importance relative to other places and regions are aspects that can easily be implied by maps and map makers. These may also be the most easily recognized connotations of maps. With contemporary maps it is often easy to detect an agenda behind a map or cartographer, particularly if we are familiar with a region or ongoing issues. From early maps, though, about which we know little and whose current existence may be as serendipitous as significant, it can be quite difficult to detect purpose and audience. It is easy for us to interpret, and perhaps dismiss them, as simply signs of ignorance of the landscape, its inhabitants, and their imprint. But were they?
In order to illustrate the power of maps to convey particular meanings while obscuring others, I will first discuss several historical maps of the West, the Headwaters and Gunnison regions, and then more contemporary themes by presenting maps made by my WSC students in Geographic Information Systems.
(NOTE to accompany draft of this paper: At the time of writing this draft, not all of the historical maps discussed are incorporated into the text and the GIS maps are still in preparation. The Headwaters Conference presentation, and the final version of this paper, will contain full references and illustrations of the maps under discussion . plc 9/16/01)
The maps we created were deliberately chosen to reflect certain issues and perceptions of this region, to illustrate the potential for maps to communicate different senses of place. These maps also give us the opportunity to discuss the ease with which GIS can enable us to address the problems of single maps as representations of a region, and also to quickly create maps with a certain perspective in response to appearance of maps whose connotations we dislike. After reviewing several of these, I will conclude with general observations about mapping—and advocating for—the Headwaters region.
Early Maps of the Headwaters Region
The majority of the earliest maps known of this region are those produced by mappers surveying for rail routes to the Pacific. Many of these, including those of Capt. John Gunnison's outfit, can be consulted via the Library of Congress' web site but will not reproduce in a useful fashion here. With the specific purpose these maps had, it is not surprising that they include only a few types of information: topography, primarily in the form of shaded relief cartoons of major peaks, passes, and ranges; rivers, by far the most accurate feature of these maps; a few place names; and occasional vegetation symbols.
Areas away from the prospective routes are left blank, or depicted with more generalized symbols. While we may assume this merely reflects the fact that the mappers had little knowledge of the region or of its inhabitants, it is worth noting that blankness can easily connote more than simply lack of knowledge. Did featurelessness imply wildness or undesirability, or merely, unknown? For how many did "emptiness" on a map—particularly one showing established transportation routes—represent "open for settlement"?
I suggest that the featurelessness of large portions of these early maps, and the accompanying perceived right to name the landscape as they were ‘discovered', reflects both lack of awareness of previous residents, but also assumptions of the right to occupy, and probably, deliberate omission of evidence of prior occupants and their cultural landscapes.
Several maps of this era do include references to Indians, primarily by inscribing names of groups across expansive, but undefined spaces between "known" features. While this approach to mapping indigenous people and territory may initially strike us as simplistic, imprecise, and perhaps offensive, they may actually be some of the more accurate representations of Indian land-use and tenure. Words as symbols of regions of inhabitance, influence, control, land use and cultural landscape imply ambiguous—perhaps shifting—borders between different groups. Such ambiguity may well be more accurate and indicative of local perceptions than our modern inclination to designate borders and regions with precise lines. (6) We might also reflect on the possibility that makers and readers of these maps interpreted the Indian names as warnings, or directions to avoid straying from the trail, rather than as evidence of occupancy or ownership.
A series of railroad maps from the mid-late 19th century offers the opportunity to examine early depictions of the Headwaters region. The first of these, from 1855, shows the entire western U.S. as only river systems, the highest mountain ranges, and proposed rail routes to the Pacific (Warren 1855). Notable is the indication of a potential route from Ft. Massachusetts to Salt Lake through Sangre de Cristo and Cochetopa passes, then along the course of an unnamed river that meets up with the Grand before the route crosses over the Wasatch range and turns north. It is interesting to speculate whether the lack of detail of all but the major mountain ranges, and the omission of certain features of critical interest to prospective rail planners and engineers—the Black Canyon, for instance—was actually due to the hurriedness of the map's preparation as suggested in a footnote on the original or was deliberate. Regardless, this map appears to have significant influence on subsequent plans and maps.
Nowhere on this map is there any indication of people who already lived anywhere in the region, no existing settlements other than Forts, or trails. The map then must be considered an instrument of planning, perhaps of promotion of certain routes to the Pacific over others.
That the absence of Indians was not merely ignorance is suggested by another map published shortly thereafter but which fills most of the U.S. with Indian group names (McGowan 1859). Striking on this map, though, is that the region of most concern to the mapmakers, the new goldfields of "West Kansas", is empty of these referents. The portion of the map west of Ft. Laramie to Pueblo, east of the Green/Colorado River, north of the San Juan River, and south of South Pass has no Indian groups labeled. The map of "the Routes to Pike's Peak" does, however, have a North, Middle, and South Park and the "Gold Region." Note also that Cochetopa Pass has been displaced to the northeast and the name South Fork of the Grand added to the Gunnison river.
If the map title, and the "gold region" label are not indicative enough of the map's purpose, the guide accompanying the map leaves little doubt. Allegedly in order to not crowd the map with topographic detail, the guide introduction notes, more specific information about the goldfields was published separately from the map. The guide also includes an estimate of all the provisions, and their cost, needed to equip four men for six months in the mines. The Routes to Pike's Peak map, then, is a map intended to convey the ease of reaching the booming gold region. What happens next is of little interest to the railroad, but getting the miner's there is worth paying attention to, and there is certainly no point in getting them worried about who else they might run into.
The 1883 map of the Denver & Rio Grande Railway System is a detailed, far more accurate representation not only of the company's completed and projected rail lines, but also of the new State of Colorado organized into counties (Rand McNally, 1883). The actual route, as you know, took a few alternate paths, reducing the importance of Cochetopa Pass, though rectifying its position. Also worthy of note, the map in its use of symbols elevates Gunnison to the importance of Leadville and South Pueblo while Salida and Alamosa have become the equals of Colorado Springs, Cuchara and El Moro, Jack's Cabin, Doyle(ville), and Parlin are also given their rightful, enduring place in the region.
This map, then, while revealing considerable advancement in official knowledge of the region's topography and the extent of resettlement, also clearly emphasizes the connectedness of these many, new communities served by the D & RG with Kansas City, Salt Lake, and San Francisco. To illustrate a point made earlier, note that this map represents the D & RG's lines with a black line so prominent that the inferiority of connectedness and travel by stagecoach—indicated for other towns, but hidden amongst the topography—is unmistakable. Competing railroad companies lines are also diminished in importance by the use of finer lines and smaller type such that the Union Pacific becomes a bit player, and Salida becomes a more important place than Denver.
This map is not merely an artifact of rail expansion and of expanding geographic knowledge. It is also an attempt to influence the settlement and development of the West and, of course, to line the pockets of the D and RG. Indeed, given the observations about the map thus far, it is astounding to note that in its original presentation, the map had an additional, explicit, and different purpose.
Surrounding the map is the rest of the advertisement by the Colorado Loan and Trust Co. of Denver enticing settlers to the "San Luis Park" of Saguache, Rio Grande, Costilla and Conejos counties. Information on the superiority of the region's climate, soils, the availability of water for irrigation, and how to obtain government land are provided along with the map of connectedness and accessibility. Previous occupants of the region are long gone, of course, and "all farmers [are promised] an equal chance for water."
Another map from this period with a similar purpose is the 1872 map of The Pleasure Grounds at Manitou Springs (von Motz 1872). Though The Springs are not in the Headwaters region as most of us define it, the map nevertheless offers important insights. This map very clearly denotes certain important features, the springs it was hoped would attract visitors and new residents, roads and train depots to emphasize connectedness with points east, and with local supply and recreation points. (CLICK HERE TO SEE MAP) The main features, occupying the majority of the map, are the apparently surveyed—how advanced and civilized the town of Manitou Springs must have been—and immediately available for purchase, "lots for villas."
How different this conception of a place is from that of maps emphasizing available farmland. In addition to reflecting the enthusiasm of the times for hot springs, we also see the mountains as a focus for tourism, and that tourism—and perhaps the second home economy—as the basis for local economies has considerable precedence.
Around this same time, a series of "birds eye" maps of several Colorado settlements were prepared, including Denver, Greeley, Colorado Springs, Cripple Creek, Salida, and Gunnison (CLICK HERE TO SEE MAP). These typically show a landscape in the background with the town's grid street system and buildings emphasized in the foreground. Many streets are named, most buildings along major streets are carefully drawn as are certain major structures and farmyards at the edge of town, and a puffing train approaching the booming settlements. Certain of the buildings are labeled with letters or numbers and a legend names building owners or uses. While these maps initially appear to be very accurate representations of the towns in question, there does appear to be a recurring set of building types from one map to another that may indicate some lack of faithfulness to reality. Street patterns, and location of the towns relative to their actual surroundings, though, do seem to have been faithfully recorded.
The orderliness of the settlement, and the whitewashed buildings depicted are quite unlike the scenes revealed in photographs of the era. The bird's eye views, then, do not represent the reality of the towns, but a scene, or perhaps a future, it is imagined the intended viewer would like to see. Anyone moving to the region influenced by these ‘maps' would have been quite surprised.
Summary
The maps discussed thus far reveal three major themes or ideas implicit in their titles, cartographic techniques, and choices of features to be mapped: The West as open territory; Colorado as an accessible, attractive destination; and the West as resources. None of these themes is surprising given what we know about the late 19th and early 20th century history of the region, though the appearance of tourism promotion in 1872 is quite striking. The significant observation, however, is that even the earliest maps of the region clearly illustrate the assertions made here and elsewhere of the message or agenda embodied in a map, and that even these early representations are not merely presenting information.
What can be said with maps about the Headwaters region today?
Rather than repeat this same interpretive review of contemporary maps, we have decided to present our own maps of the Headwaters region, and to use them to further illustrate the arguments outlined above.
The student created maps anticipated for this section and the public presentation during the Headwaters Conference will include: Favorite Places, Roadless Areas, Recreation Areas, "Natural" Hazards, Tourism and Ranching in the local economies, Population density, Privately-owned land fronting Rivers and lakes, Archeological sites, Endangered species habitats....
Conclusions
From the discussion above, and the maps presented here, several general conclusions should be evident. The first, and perhaps most obvious, is that it is crucial that we be critical of maps of the region presented in discourse about the region's future. Further, maps that hide important details or facets of the region in order to present the case for certain actions or interpretations, may well warrant public response and critique, not simply dismissal or insular complaints. Second, as we have shown here, recognizing the power of maps to convey certain perceptions and senses of place may compel Headwaters advocates to prepare their own maps in response to, or refutation of, maps produced by others. Last, as we have shown, senses of place can be conveyed not only by poetry, photographs, or passionate advocacy, but also by maps. Maps that we can all participate in creating.
End notes
(1) See Monmonier (1996, 123-130) for example for discussion of the standards devised by the US Geological Service.
(2) See Monmonier (1996, 117-119, 126, 137-138) for enlightening discussions of military obfuscation, deliberate displacement on topographic maps, and omission of archaeological sites. Mistakes and deliberate errors for copyright infringement detection are other common inaccuracies in maps that are delightfully presented in Monmonier's book.
(3) The inherent aspects of mapping distortion and inaccuracy are described in considerably more detail in most texts about maps and mapping. See, for example, Olson 1998; Monmonier 1993; 1996; MacEachren 1995; Dorling and Fairbairn 1997).
(4) See, for example, Monmonier 1993; MacEachren 1995; Robinson et al. 1984.
(6) Peter Dana (2000) emphasized in his discussion of experiences while mapping Miskitu Indian territories in Honduras that while his assistants could quite easily lead him to agreed upon markers of the edge of the village territory they were insistent that the existence of such markers in no way implied that a line could be drawn between them that separated territories of neighboring communities. It is also important to note that understood boundaries to territory could just as likely be mythical features or markers that were best described by expressions like, "at the edge of the forest over the mountains."
References
Aberly, Doug. 1993. How to Map your Bioregion: A Primer for Community Activists. In Doug Aberly, editor, Boundaries of Home: Mapping for Local Empowerment. The New Catalyst Bioregional Series. Gabriola Island, BC, Canada: New Society Publishers, 1993: 71-129.
Dorling, Daniel, and David Fairbairn. 1997. Mapping: Ways of Representing the World. Harlow, England: Addison Wesley Longman Limited.
House, Freeman. 1993. Watersheds as Unclaimed Territories. In Doug Aberly, editor, Boundaries of Home: Mapping for Local Empowerment. The New Catalyst Bioregional Series. Gabriola Island, BC, Canada: New Society Publishers, 1993: 35-38.
MacEachren, Alan M. 1995. How Maps Work. New York: The Guilford Press.
Monmonier, Mark. 1996. How to Lie with Maps. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
________. 1993. Mapping it out: expository cartography for the humanities and social sciences. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Olson, Judy M. 1998. Maps as Representations of the World. In NCGIA Core Curriculum in Geographic Information Science. Need url, def. Of NCGIA….
Robinson, Arthur H., Randall D. Sale, Joel L. Morrison, and Phillip Muehrcke. Elements of Cartography, 5th edition. New York: John Wiley and Sons.
Sale, Kirkpatrick. 1993. Putting Dartia on the Map. In Doug Aberly, editor, Boundaries of Home: Mapping for Local Empowerment. The New Catalyst Bioregional Series. Gabriola Island, BC, Canada: New Society Publishers, 1993: 27-31.
Wood, Denis. 1992. The Power of Maps. New York: The Guilford Press.
Maps Cited
McGowan, D., and G. H. Hildt. 1859. Map of the United States west of the Mississippi showing the routes to Pike's Peak, overland mail route to California and Pacific rail road surveys. St. Louis: Leopold Gast and Bro. In Andrew M. Modelski, compiler. 1984. Railroad Maps of North America. Washington, DC: Library of Congress: 62-63.
Rand McNally and Company. 1883. Denver and Rio Grande Railway System, 1883. Chicago, IL. In Andrew M. Modelski, compiler. 1984. Railroad Maps of North America. Washington, DC: Library of Congress: 96-97.
Stoner, J. J. 1882. Bird's Eye View of Gunnison, Colorado. Originally published in collection of panoramic views of U.S. cities and towns. Madison, WI: Beck and Pauli, lithographers. Now in the American Memory Collection, Library of Congress Geography and Map Division Washington, D.C. [Consulted on-line at http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.gmd/g4314g.pm000700].
von Motz, Albert. 1872. Map of the Mountain Valley and Pleasure Grounds at Manitou Near Colorado Springs. Consulted at Colorado Digital Map Library, [http://www.rootsweb.com/~usgenweb/maps/colorado/citymap/colospr/ManitouSprings1872.jpg]. Courtesy of Jeff Christlieb, and the Denver Public Library.
Warren, Gouverneur Kemble. 1855. Map of routes for a Pacific railroad, compiled to accompany the report of the Hon. Jefferson Davis, Sec. Of War. New York: Lithographers of J. Bien. In Andrew M. Modelski, compiler. 1984. Railroad Maps of North America. Washington, DC: Library of Congress: 34-35.