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padding-top: 0;} - - p { - margin-top: .5em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .25em; - } - - table {width: 100%; max-width: 100%;} - - .tdl { - padding-left: 1em; - text-indent: -1em; - padding-right: 0; - } - - .p4.figcenter, .p8.figcenter {margin-top: 0; page-break-before: always; -} - .figleft, .figright { display: none; visibility: hidden; - float: none; - clear: none; - margin: 1em auto 1em auto; - min-width: 0; - max-width: 100%; - } - - .img {max-height: 95%;} - - #tp {max-width: 100%; min-width: 0; margin: auto;} - -} - -@media handheld -{ - body {margin: 0;} - - hr { - margin-top: .1em; - margin-bottom: .1em; - visibility: hidden; - color: white; - width: .01em; - display: none; - } - - .poem-container {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%;} - .poem {display: block;} - .poem .stanza {page-break-inside: avoid;} - - .transnote { - page-break-inside: avoid; - margin-left: 2%; - margin-right: 2%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - padding: .5em; - } - - .index {margin-left: 0;} - -} - </style> - </head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Oregon the Picturesque, by Thomas D. Murphy - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Oregon the Picturesque - -Author: Thomas D. Murphy - -Release Date: September 25, 2019 [EBook #60359] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OREGON THE PICTURESQUE *** - - - - -Produced by Charlie Howard and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div id="i_cover" class="p4 figcenter" style="max-width: 25em;"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="508" height="800" alt="Cover" /></div> - -<h1>OREGON<br /> -THE<br /> -PICTURESQUE</h1> - -<div id="ad" class="newpage"> -<p><i class="bb">By the Same Author</i></p> - -<p class="large">British Highways and Byways from a -Motor Car</p> - -<p>THIRD IMPRESSION</p> - -<p>WITH FORTY-EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS AND TWO MAPS</p> - -<p>Sixteen Reproductions in Color, and Thirty-two Duogravures -320 Pages, 8vo, Decorated Cloth -Price (Boxed), $3.00 Net</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="large">In Unfamiliar England with a Motor Car</p> - -<p>SECOND IMPRESSION</p> - -<p>WITH SIXTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS AND TWO MAPS</p> - -<p>Sixteen Reproductions in Color and Forty-eight Duogravures -400 Pages, 8vo, Decorated Cloth -Price (Boxed), $3.00 Net</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="large">Three Wonderlands of the American West</p> - -<p>SECOND IMPRESSION</p> - -<p>WITH FORTY-EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS AND TWO MAPS</p> - -<p>Sixteen Reproductions in Color and Thirty-two Duogravures -180 Pages, Tall 8vo, Decorated Cloth -Price (Boxed), $3.50 Net</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="large">On Old-World Highways</p> - -<p>WITH FIFTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIONS AND THREE MAPS</p> - -<p>Sixteen Reproductions in Color and Forty Duogravures -388 Pages, 8vo, Decorated Cloth -Price (Boxed), $3.00 Net</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="large">On Sunset Highways</p> - -<p>WITH FIFTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS</p> - -<p>Sixteen Reproductions in Color and Forty Duogravures -376 Pages, 8vo, Decorated Cloth -Price (Boxed), $3.00 Net</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="large">THE PAGE COMPANY, BOSTON</p> -</div> - -<div id="i_frontis" class="newpage p8 figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i004.jpg" width="374" height="500" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>BISHOP’S CAP, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>Copyright Winter Photo Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<div id="tp" class="newpage p4"> - -<div id="if_i005aleft" class="figleft" style="max-width: 10em;"> - <img src="images/i005aleft.jpg" width="151" height="800" alt="decorative tree" /></div> - -<div id="if_i005aright" class="figright" style="max-width: 10em;"> - <img src="images/i005aright.jpg" width="155" height="800" alt="decorative tree" /></div> - -<p class="xlarge"> -OREGON<br /> -THE<br /> -PICTURESQUE</p> - -<p class="p2 smaller">A Book of Rambles in the Oregon Country and in the Wilds of<br /> -Northern California; Descriptive Sketches and Pictures of<br /> -Crater and Klamath Lakes, the Deschutes River<br /> -Canyon, the New Columbia Highway, the<br /> -Willamette and Rogue River<br /> -Valleys and the Cities<br /> -and Towns of Oregon; also of<br /> -the little-known Lakes, Rivers, Mountains,<br /> -and Vast Forests of Northern California, to<br /> -which is added a trip to the Yosemite and to the<br /> -Roosevelt Dam and the Petrified Forest of Arizona, by Motor Car.</p> - -<p class="p2 vspace">BY<br /> -<span class="large">Thos. D. Murphy</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">Author of<br /> -“On Sunset Highways”, “Three Wonderlands of the American<br /> -West”, “In Unfamiliar England” etc., etc.</span></p> - -<p class="p2 smaller">With a Map, Covering the Country Described and Showing<br /> -the Author’s Route, and with Forty Plates, of<br /> -which Sixteen are in Color</p> - -<div id="if_i005logo" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 6em;"> - <img src="images/i005logo.jpg" width="82" height="82" alt="logo" /></div> - -<p class="p2 vspace">BOSTON<br /> -<span class="larger">THE PAGE COMPANY</span><br /> -MDCCCCXVII -</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="newpage p4 center vspace smaller"> -Copyright 1917<br /> -<span class="larger">By THE PAGE COMPANY</span><br /> -(Incorporated)<br /> - -All Rights Reserved<br /> - -First Impression, October, 1917 -</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Preface">Preface</h2> -</div> - -<p>I know quite well that there have been books -without end dealing with our great Pacific Coast, -and I feel that a writer who adds another ought -to have some good excuse for such action. -I flatter myself that I have sufficient warrant for -this modest addition to western literature in that -my book will not deal with the widely traveled -and much heralded sections of this great country, -but to a large extent with its little visited and -comparatively unfamiliar regions. Ninety per -cent of existing books on California have dealt -with San Francisco and the region to the south -of that city. None, so far as I can discover, have -covered in detail, the vast mountain-studded -wonderland that comprises the northern half of -California and very few have dealt with the eastern -half of Oregon, which undoubtedly can boast -of some of the most impressive and picturesque -scenery in the whole world. I dislike that overworked—almost -banal—“picturesque,” too, but -if there is any excuse whatever for its use, surely -it is in this connection. If my language is not -strong and colorful enough to prove it, I can rest -assured that the forty beautiful plates which -grace this book will settle the question beyond -peradventure. There is only one thing more convincing—a -personal visit to this little-known -American wonderland, and this, I hope, every -one of my readers will find opportunity to accomplish -some time or other.</p> - -<p>In the title to my book I have given Oregon -preeminence,—though I have covered some adjacent -territory outside of the state—because I -feel that the predominating interest will be -centered in this great commonwealth. I believe I -have covered nearly everything in the state that -will be likely to interest the average tourist and -many of those who make the round by motor will -no doubt make San Francisco their starting-point, -as we ourselves did. In such cases, our -opinion is that the routes we pursued through -Northern California are well worth while.</p> - -<p>In addition to the credit given with each of -the splendid photographs reproduced in this -book, I wish to reiterate here my obligation to -Portland’s masters of the camera, the Winter -Co., the Weister Co., and Mr. Fred H. Kiser, -who so kindly permitted the use of some of their -most beautiful pictures as illustrations.</p> - -<p class="p1 in0">October 1, 1917.</p> - -<p class="sigright larger"> -THE AUTHOR. -</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table id="toc" summary="Contents"> - <tr class="nobpad"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">I</td> - <td class="tdl">AN UNFAMILIAR WONDERLAND</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#I">1</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">II</td> - <td class="tdl">TO THE LAND OF SKY-BLUE WATER</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#II">23</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">III</td> - <td class="tdl">RENO TO KLAMATH FALLS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#III">57</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">IV</td> - <td class="tdl">THE MARVELS OF CRATER LAKE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#IV">81</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">V</td> - <td class="tdl">CRATER LAKE TO THE DALLES</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#V">110</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">VI</td> - <td class="tdl">WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#VI">132</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">VII</td> - <td class="tdl">THE VALE OF THE WILLAMETTE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#VII">162</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">VIII</td> - <td class="tdl">GRANTS PASS TO EUREKA</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#VIII">184</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">IX</td> - <td class="tdl">EUREKA TO CLOVERDALE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#IX">216</a></td></tr> - <tr class="p1"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdl">INTO YOSEMITE BY MOTOR</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Into_Yosemite_by_Motor">245</a></td></tr> - <tr class="p1"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdl">A RUN TO THE ROOSEVELT DAM AND TO THE PETRIFIED FOREST</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Run_to_the_Roosevelt_Dam_and">277</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table id="loi" summary="List of Illustrations"> - <tr class="p1"> - <td class="tdc larger" colspan="2">COLOR PLATES</td></tr> - <tr class="nobpad"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">BISHOP’S CAP, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#i_frontis">Frontispiece</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE OAKS AT SUNSET</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_1">1</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">A CORNER OF LAKE TAHOE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_23">23</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">ACROSS LAKE TAHOE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_34">34</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">CRATER LAKE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_81">81</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SHIP ROCK, CRATER LAKE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_90">90</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SUNSET ON THE COLUMBIA</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_132">132</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">FROM INSPIRATION POINT, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_140">140</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SHEPPERD’S DELL BRIDGE, COLUMBIA RIVER HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_148">148</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE WILLAMETTE NEAR EUGENE, OREGON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_174">174</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">ON THE PACIFIC HIGHWAY IN OREGON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_176">176</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THROUGH THE DEL NORTE REDWOODS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_194">194</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SAND DUNES ON THE NORTH COAST</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_216">216</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE MENDOCINO COAST</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_234">234</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">EL CAPITAN, YOSEMITE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_245">245</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SOLITUDE—THE ARIZONA NATIONAL FORESTS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_277">277</a></td></tr> - <tr class="p1 b1"> - <td class="tdc larger" colspan="2">DUOGRAVURES</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">ON THE LOWER COLUMBIA RIVER HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_12">12</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">ON THE PACIFIC HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_16">16</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">CAVE ROCK, LAKE TAHOE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_48">48</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE ROAD TO CRATER LAKE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_84">84</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">WIZARD ISLAND FROM GARFIELD PEAK</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_96">96</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">CRATER LAKE—WIZARD ISLAND IN DISTANCE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_102">102</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">LLAO ROCK, CRATER LAKE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_108">108</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SAND CREEK CANYON PINNACLES</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_110">110</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE THREE SISTERS, DESCHUTES CANYON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_112">112</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE DESCHUTES NEAR NORTH JUNCTION</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_116">116</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">OVERLOOKING DESCHUTES CANYON. MT. JEFFERSON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_120">120</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">MT. HOOD FROM TYGH VALLEY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_122">122</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">OR BON DESCHUTES RIVER CANYON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_126">126</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE DESCHUTES RIVER CANYON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_130">130</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">ONEONTA TUNNEL, COLUMBIA RIVER HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_134">134</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">COLUMBIA HIGHWAY AT MITCHELL POINT</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_136">136</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">AROUND TOOTH MOUNTAIN, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_138">138</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SHEPPARD’S BRIDGE FROM BENEATH—COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_142">142</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SHEPPERD’S BRIDGE, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_146">146</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">COLUMBIA RIVER GORGE FROM CHANTICLEER INN</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_152">152</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">COLUMBIA HIGHWAY NEAR EAGLE CREEK</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_156">156</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">PORTLAND AND MT. HOOD</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_160">160</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">ALONG THE COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_162">162</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">PRUNE ORCHARDS NEAR DUNDEE, OREGON, WILLAMETTE VALLEY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_166">166</a></td></tr> - <tr class="p1 b1"> - <td class="tdc larger" colspan="2">MAPS</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">MAP SHOWING AUTHOR’S ROUTE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_314">314</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<div id="ip_1" class="p4 figcenter" style="max-width: 32em;"> - <img src="images/i014.jpg" width="503" height="376" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE OAKS AT SUNSET</p> - -<p>From painting by Gordon Coutts</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">1</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="OregonThe_Picturesque"><span class="larger">Oregon—The Picturesque</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="I" class="nobreak p2 vspace">I<br /> - -<span class="subhead">AN UNFAMILIAR WONDERLAND</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Twenty thousand miles of motoring had -made us familiar with most of the highways and -byways of California lying south of San Francisco. -Some of these roads we covered but once -in our wanderings and others many times—only -a few outlying sections and odd corners have so -far escaped us and these we hope to add to our -conquests in due course of time. I do not think it -possible for any motor enthusiast ever to grow -weary of the wonderland of Southern California -with its miles and miles of splendid road, its endless -variety of scenery, and its enlivening dash of -historic romance. But we had done all this, and -when the wanderlust came upon us again we cast -about, temporarily, of course—for we felt that -Sunset Land would eventually claim us again—for -new fields of adventure with our companion -of the wind-shod wheels.</p> - -<p>And so it happened with us and we found -ourselves scanning with no small degree of interest -and anticipation maps of the vast mountain-studded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">2</span> -country stretching from San Francisco -to the Columbia River. We had met infrequent -motorists who had penetrated parts of this comparatively -unfamiliar region and their tales were -enough to arouse our curiosity and to intensify -our desire to explore these virgin fastnesses of -shining lakes, vast forests, and rugged hills, but -the contemplation of such an undertaking caused -us some uneasiness and misgiving, we are free to -confess.</p> - -<p>Here one will not find a system of smooth, -well-engineered boulevards, but is confronted by -a series of widely dissevered mountain trails -which climb long, laborious grades or creep along -precipitous slopes, deep with dust in late summer -and stony and rough at all times. Indeed, many -of the roads we planned to traverse are closed by -snowdrifts during the greater part of the year -and the preferable time for touring is from July -to September inclusive. Later, one may encounter -the first showers of the rainy season—as -it happened with ourselves—and many of these -mountain grades are described as “impassable” -in wet weather. One of our informants told us -of his harrowing experience in passing a night in -his car on a slippery grade of the so-called Pacific -Highway in Oregon until daylight and a cessation -of the shower made it possible to proceed. -He completed his drive to Portland but shipped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">3</span> -his car back to San Francisco by steamer—no one -but a fool, he said, would wish to drive both ways -over such a road.</p> - -<p>And yet, when we called on the well-informed -Automobile Association in San Francisco, -we were assured that the Pacific Highway -was the standard route to Portland and when we -proposed to proceed north from Lake Tahoe on -the eastern side of the Sierras through Central -Oregon to The Dalles and to return through -Eugene, Grants Pass, Crescent City, and Eureka, -we were regarded as being afflicted with a mild -species of dementia. We were assured that while -it might be possible to make the round with a -good car, it was certainly not worth while; we -would find rough, stony roads and endless steep -grades, and the trip would try any machine and -driver to the limit—all of which we found to be -verily true save that we can never agree that it -wasn’t worth while—a mere matter of opinion, -after all.</p> - -<p>A few extracts from our road-book covering -some of the route seemed to prove that the auto -people knew what they were talking about. We -found such cheerful information as “Roads poor; -many sharp curves and heavy grades up to thirty -per cent” and again, “Roads mountainous, heavy -grades, sharp curves.” Of the hills about Eureka -we were cautioned, “Roads poor, heavy grades up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span> -to thirty per cent; sharp curves; use care,” and -I might quote similar data concerning our prospective -route ad infinitum—but we found that -really the worst parts of the road were not -charted at all, for the book did not cover our -proposed tour in Oregon.</p> - -<p>We had, however, set our hearts too fondly -on the trip to be easily deterred and we determined -to proceed, making careful inquiry of -local conditions from town to town; at the worst -we would always have the option of retracing -our route. We felt sure that our car, a Pierce -forty-eight, was equal to any road that any -motor-driven vehicle could master—and nobly -did it live up to our anticipations; in four -thousand miles of strenuous work, chiefly among -the mountains, it did not give us a moment’s -trouble.</p> - -<p>For the greater part of our proposed route -we were unable to secure detailed descriptive -maps such as cover so many of the main roads on -the coast and we had considerable misgivings -about being able to find our way, though we may -anticipate a little by saying that this misgiving -proved quite unfounded. We had no need of -such carefully detailed maps and those we were -able to secure met every requirement, for we -found the roads well signed, even in the loneliest -and most remote sections. We were seldom at a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">5</span> -loss for our route; we did not go astray a single -time and were never delayed to any extent for -lack of road information. In the wildest and -most thinly inhabited regions there is usually -but one road and we found the local garages an -unfailing source of reliable information as to the -best route to the next town. Indeed, many of -them were perfectly familiar with road conditions -within a radius of a hundred miles, since in these -isolated villages—some of them to be reached -only by automobile—the garage men are accustomed -to drive customers long distances in all -directions. Even the smallest places have one or -more garages fairly well equipped to take care of -the travelers’ needs. We found it unnecessary to -carry an extra supply of gasoline with us, though -there were times when we became uneasy lest -we should find ourselves short of that very necessary -fluid. A gravity-fed car may fail on some -of the steep grades, even with a goodly quantity -of gasoline in the tank, and this should be borne -in mind by the tourist. Cars are not frequent on -many of these roads and a shortage of gasoline -might prove a very inconvenient matter, to say -the least.</p> - -<p>At one of the remotest points on our trip we -were hailed by a fellow-motorist in distress—twenty-five -miles from the nearest supply station -and with a tank so nearly empty that he could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">6</span> -not climb the grades. He had waited long for a -passing car and one or two that had come along -could not help him out, being fearful of their own -supply. Then he hired a horse of a ranchman -and visited the half-dozen houses in the vicinity -without success. We were able to spare a gallon -or two and he went on his way rejoicing. We -always wondered, though, if he did not meet with -more grief before he mastered the nine-mile, -twenty-five per cent grade before him. Of course, -it wasn’t twenty-five per cent all the way, but a -twenty-five per cent grade for only fifty yards -may be just as much of an obstacle, if your gasoline -is low, as one many times as long.</p> - -<p>We carried five gallons of water in two -canvas-covered canteens, but had little occasion -to use it, as our motor seldom heated and we had -cool weather on some of the heaviest grades. -An extra supply of water may be a prime necessity, -however, in very warm weather or in case -of motors inclined to heat under heavy work. -There are grades where it is a steady, low-gear -grind for most cars for miles at a stretch and -frequently no water to be had. In such cases the -canteen or canvas water bag may prove a God-send, -indeed.</p> - -<p>With a heavy car one should start out with -a new set of tires all around and a couple of -spares, also new. Tires for medium and small<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">7</span> -cars can be found at most of the country garages, -but few of them stock the larger sizes. On such -a tour one can not afford to take unnecessary -chances with tires—it would be exceedingly inconvenient -to experience a “blow-out” on a narrow, -thirty per cent grade. Some of the runs will -keep one busy enough without fooling away time -on tires—if it can be helped. So new tires and -the best will be economy in the long run. One -must be prepared to see them suffer severely from -the sharp stones that strew the roads in many -places—but we found it possible to make the -three-thousand-mile round without a puncture, -though our casings were sadly cut and scarred at -the end and some of them had apparently reached -the limit of their usefulness.</p> - -<p>In the recesses of some of these giant hills a -serious breakdown is a calamity, indeed. It is -impossible to tow the car to a repair shop and it -must be abandoned until necessary parts are obtained -and repairs completed by the roadside -where the accident occurred. We saw quite a -number of these abandoned machines and -wondered what luck the owners had in getting -assistance. In some cases it would have been a -serious matter to undertake to walk to the -nearest house. In one instance we had the pleasure -of giving an unfortunate a lift just as he was -starting on a seventeen-mile trudge with a broken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">8</span> -axle rod over his shoulder. Another very serious -feature of many of these breakdowns was the -time it must have required to get the new parts—all -of which reflections served to make us -doubly thankful for the complete immunity -which our sturdy car enjoyed. Undoubtedly, the -safest car for such a tour is the heavy, powerful, -and practically unbreakable car of the type we -used, or the light, agile Ford, for which a full -line of parts can be found in even the smaller -towns of the remote districts. We did not meet -many cars on the greater part of our trip, but of -these, fully nine-tenths were Fords. In many -cases they carried a complete camping outfit, -making the occupants independent of hotels and -daily schedules.</p> - -<p>As to the hotels encountered in our month’s -jaunt through the wilds, we will deal with them -in detail as we proceed with our story—but we -may generalize by saying that the average was -wonderfully good. In towns of a thousand or -less we often found comfortable and well-appointed -inns where we could get rooms with -private bath, and in the medium-sized places the -hotels were often truly metropolitan in size and -furnishings. In the smaller places the rates for -rooms were low and in the larger towns moderate -in comparison with city charges. Nearly all the -hotels, however, were operated on the so-called<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span> -European plan—you pay separately for room -and meals—and the “high cost of living” was -usually strongly in evidence in the restaurants. -Although the touring season was nearly past -when we began our trip, many resorts being -closed at Tahoe and elsewhere, we found the -hotels surprisingly well patronized and in a few -cases we secured accommodations with difficulty.</p> - -<p>Not being familiar with the hotels, it was not -always practical to wire for reservation—a practice -worth while where one has the necessary -information. Sometimes we could get a tip from -the hotel people as to the best stopping-place in -the next town, but this did not always prove reliable, -as the inn-keepers sometimes let personal -reasons influence them to recommend a second-rate -hotel. Neither can the average hotel directory -be depended upon; many of the towns in the -section we covered are not even listed and improvement -marches so rapidly in this country -that any information a few months old may be -out of date. We found fine hotels under construction -in two or three towns and they are -likely to spring up almost overnight anywhere in -this country. So, if one is uncertain, perhaps as -good a plan as any is to wait until the day’s destination -is reached and then make inquiries. -This is usually safe if you do not arrive too late -in the day; we planned our runs, as a rule, to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span> -bring us in well before dark and in several cases -we saw later arrivals turned away from our -hotel. We reached one good-sized town, where -there is only one first-class hotel, about four -o’clock in the afternoon and the landlord told us -he turned away no fewer than thirty would-be -guests after our arrival.</p> - -<p>We might remark here that we almost invariably -carried our noonday luncheon with us -and ate it amidst the best surroundings we could -discover at the time. Often no place was at -hand anywhere near the luncheon hour where a -meal could be secured, or if there happened to be -it generally proved a poor one, while a few nicely -made sandwiches, with fruit, nearly always to be -found in this country, and hot coffee from our -thermos bottles, cost less than hotel meals and -was far more satisfactory; besides, this plan consumed -less time and gave us the advantage of enjoying -the great out-of-doors, often with a -magnificent scene before us.</p> - -<p>As I have intimated, we met a good many -fellow-motorists who carried the out-of-door -idea to a still greater extent, for they had with -them complete camping outfits, including the -tents which sheltered them at nightfall. In some -parts of the country very delightful camping -sites could be found with trees and clear spring -water near at hand; but there were long stretches<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">11</span> -of road where none of these conveniences existed -and nothing save barren, stony soil or sagebrush-studded -sand greeted the wayfarer’s eyes. Occasionally -we passed campers who were making -the best of such surroundings, but they did not -present the cheerful appearance of those who had -lighted upon some grassy glade under a group -of fragrant balsam pines. A goodly number of -the campers were hunters, for we were in the -midst of the season in California and Oregon—we -ourselves saw several deer by the roadside -and occasionally started a long-tailed pheasant -or jack-rabbit from cover. Still more numerous -were the beautiful California quail which frequently -arose in large flocks as our car brushed -through some dense thicket that skirted the -roadside. Considering the long distance we -traveled through virgin wildernesses, however, -we saw little of wild life.</p> - -<p>If the hotels along our route averaged quite -moderate in charges, the garages did their best -to even things up; gasoline is, indeed, a precious -fluid in this country, prices ranging from thirty -to fifty cents per gallon. We paid the latter -figure only once, but thirty-five and forty cents -was quite common and lubricating oil was at -least fifty per cent above the San Francisco price. -When one recalls that in many of these towns -supplies have to come by motor truck for long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">12</span> -distances, perhaps these high prices are justified. -Garage charges for our car ran from fifty to -seventy-five cents per night. Fortunately, we -are not able to speak from experience as to the -cost of repair work, but the average garage -seemed very well equipped to take care of anything -in this line.</p> - -<p>As we have already intimated, only an inconsiderable -mileage of the roads covered by our -tour has as yet been improved. Most of the -counties that we traversed in Northern California -and Oregon are vast in extent and but thinly -populated. For instance, Lassen and Modoc -Counties in California have respectively 4531 and -3823 square miles, with a population of 4802 for -the former and 6191 for the latter named. Some -of the Oregon counties would not show so great -a population in proportion to their area. It would -be folly to expect such sparsely inhabited communities, -entirely without large cities, to be able -to match the great bond issues of the counties of -Central and Southern California. They have -done much, everything considered, but so vast -are the distances and so great the engineering -difficulties that the main effort has been to keep -the present roads in passable condition rather -than to build new ones. A veteran motorist told -me that he had covered a good part of these -northern roads several years ago and that in going<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span> -over them a second time recently he could not -note any great improvement. Better bridges -have been built and the surfacing improved in -places, but little has been done to widen the roads -or to eliminate the heavy grades. If fine highways -with moderate gradients and curves ever -penetrate these natural fastnesses, the state will -have to do the work.</p> - -<div id="ip_12" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 25em;"> - <img src="images/i027.jpg" width="400" height="554" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>ON THE LOWER COLUMBIA RIVER HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>From photo by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>The present plans of the California Highway -Commission contemplate the improvement -of the Coast Route—though, with the exception -of about a hundred miles, it runs a goodly distance -from the coast—practically to the Oregon -line—and some of the grading in Humboldt and -Mendocino Counties is already done. Much -work has also been done on the Pacific Highway, -which pursues its course through the central part -of the state and branches from this are projected -to the county seats of each of the eastern tier of -counties. Nothing, however, is promised for the -extreme eastern counties in the way of an improved -road northward from Lake Tahoe and -roughly following the Nevada, California & Oregon -Railroad to the Oregon border. Probably -such a highway would not be justified, for the -population is very scant and the country barren -and poor, though it has much to interest the tourist -for all that. With the completion of the new -highways, much of the present road will be practically<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">14</span> -abandoned and while this is a consummation -devoutly to be wished from most viewpoints, -the tourist of the future will miss many of the -most glorious mountain vistas that human eye -has ever rested upon. For the only way to realize -the majesty of the mountains is to climb the -mountains, and though that is sometimes strenuous -and even dangerous work, it is not without -its reward to one who delights in these giant -hills.</p> - -<p>The success of the second state bond proposition -submitted at the general election of 1916, -providing fifteen million dollars to complete the -highway system, insures that the work as outlined -in Northern California will be carried forward -as rapidly as possible. This comprises two -trunk lines to the northern border: the Pacific -Highway, traversing the Sacramento Valley, and -the Coast Route, roughly following the ocean to -Crescent City. A large part of the former road -is already finished, but a much larger proportion -of the Coast road is still undone. Besides these, -several laterals will connect the county seats not -served directly by the main lines, thus reaching -the communities east of the Sierras, where no -highway is planned. Much of the worst road -covered in the tour described in this book will -be eliminated when the proposed extensions are -completed. This will probably require three<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">15</span> -years, or until 1920—and we may confidently -predict that motor touring will become vastly -more popular in this now little-known scenic -wonderland.</p> - -<p>The highways of Oregon present a still more -serious question in that state than the one which -California has to solve. With only one-fifth the -population and with two-thirds the area of her -neighbor, Oregon cannot undertake the vast road -improvement plans that are being carried out -south of her border. There is as yet little well-improved -road in the state; a few pieces of macadam -about Portland and down the Willamette -Valley—much of it broken and rough—and the -wonderful new Columbia River Highway comprising -about all of it at this time. A number -of the more prosperous counties, however, have -voted bonds or are contemplating such a move, -especially along the Pacific Highway, so that in -the course of four or five years we may expect -some appreciable results. But Oregon roads -generally are desperately bad and are likely to -remain so for some time. There will likely be -much improvement in the way of grading and -bridges, but surfacing after the splendid fashion -of California is far off for the vast majority of -Oregon highways. Multnomah County, in which -is situated the city of Portland, has by far the -greater mileage of surfaced highways and we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</span> -found considerable road work in progress here. -The first move toward a permanent system in -this county was the issuance of two and a half -millions in bonds, the proceeds of which were -used to build the first fifty miles of the Columbia -River Highway, and it is to be hoped that other -counties will continue the good work until this -wonderful road parallels the mighty river its entire -length in the state.</p> - -<p>We found the leaven of good-roads sentiment -working strongly in Oregon during our -sojourn in that state, and a little less than a year -later it bore substantial fruit in a six-million bond -issue which carried by a safe majority. This is -avowedly only the entering wedge—it is safe to -predict a repetition of California’s experience in -adopting a second issue by a far larger popular -vote than the first received. Six million dollars -will not improve a very large percentage of Oregon’s -immense road mileage, but it will serve to -give the people of this state a demonstration of -the advantages of permanent highways and the -good work is sure to gain an impetus that will -result in still more liberal provision for carrying -it forward.</p> - -<div id="ip_16" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i033.jpg" width="401" height="554" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>ON THE PACIFIC HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>Courtesy of the Southern Pacific R. R. Co.</p></div></div> - -<p>Efforts in both California and Oregon are -at present being centered on the Pacific Highway -and in the latter state perhaps half the mileage -is improved in some way or other at this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span> -time. This is well enough, since this highway -traverses the principal centers of population in -both states and will no doubt serve the greatest -number of people. It does not, however, compare -in scenic interest with the coast road and -it closely follows the Southern Pacific Railroad, -affording one the alternative of seeing the country -from the window of a Pullman car, which -many will prefer while the highway is in its -present state. The Coast road, however, traverses -virgin wildernesses that can not be reached -by railroad train and whose beauty will reward -the somewhat strenuous effort which the motorist -must make to penetrate them.</p> - -<p>We realize now that our trip was made too -rapidly to give us the best opportunity to see -and enjoy the marvels of this wonderful region. -For unavoidable reasons we could not start -before the middle of September and before we -made our round we became uneasy on account -of the weather. We ran into showers on some -of the worst mountain roads in California, the -weather with its proverbial perverseness in the -Golden State taking a “most unusual” turn. -Snow fell in the Tahoe and Crater Lake regions -shortly after we left them and with snow these -roads are impassable for the average motor car. -So one will be easier and practically sure of -avoiding adverse weather manifestations if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span> -he will start the latter part of July—though -the “unusual” may get him even then, since on -the year of our tour the Crater Lake road was -not free from snow until the first of August. One -should plan short daily runs on such a tour and -there are many side trips well worth while if -there is plenty of time to do them. There are, -moreover, many delightful inns and resorts to be -found in the region we covered—some of them -closed when we reached them—which might well -tempt the wayfarer to tarry awhile to rest and -enjoy at his leisure the surroundings of forest, -lake or mountain stream, as the case may be. -There will be many days on the road when such -a respite will be very welcome, especially to the -feminine members of the party. Excepting Portland, -there is no large city in the territory -covered by our tour; indeed, in California, north -of San Francisco and Sacramento, there is no -town larger than Eureka, with perhaps fifteen -thousand people, while Eugene and Salem in -Oregon and Reno in Nevada have approximately -the same population. The situation of these -towns and the territory tributary to them puts -them nearer to the metropolitan class than the -average eastern town of similar size.</p> - -<p>Though the tour covered by this book was -the most strenuous we have ever made and the -lateness of the season compelled more haste than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span> -we liked, yet we look back upon the month spent -among these rugged hill ranges and wide plains -and valleys with unmixed satisfaction. We saw -many things that justly may be rated among the -wonders of the world. We saw enough to convince -us that when this region is penetrated by -well-constructed highways, it will divide honors -with Southern California as a tourist resort and -motorist’s paradise. It is little known at present; -all the flood of books poured forth about California -have dealt mainly with San Francisco and -the country lying south of that city; and Oregon, -aside from the Columbia River, has a very scant -literature. I can not pretend in the limits of this -work to have done the subject anything like full -justice. It is a country of magnificent distances, -of endless variety and immense and undeveloped -resources, and volumes would be necessary -should one enter into detail. But with the assistance -of our sturdy car we saw much, indeed; we -achieved in one month that which in old days -would have required months of tedious travel.</p> - -<p>We saw Tahoe, the gem of the world’s lakes, -in its setting of snow-covered, pine-clad mountains. -We saw the strange volcanic plains and -hills of Lassen and Modoc Counties with their -wide, shallow lakes. We saw Eagle Lake, flashing -in the sunset like a sheet of molten silver -among the pine forests that crowd up to its very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span> -shores. We saw the vast mountain cauldron -with its lapis-lazuli sheet of water—the bluest -bit of water on this mundane sphere—Crater -Lake, with its mighty ramparts of unscaled cliffs -and the unmatched vista of mountain forests and -lake from the newly built government road. We -saw the vast forests of Central Oregon, where -in a whole day’s run there is little evidence of -human habitation. We saw the great mountain -range that skirts the plain covered by this forest, -with here and there a stupendous peak, white -with eternal snow, piercing the azure heavens. -We saw the white, cold pyramid of Mount Hood -with the dark belt of pines at its base, stand in -awful majesty against a wide band of crimson -sky. For a hundred miles we followed the vale -of the queen river of the west, mountain-guarded -Columbia, and coursed over the famous new highway -with its unrivalled panoramas of stream and -wooded hills. We pursued the western Willamette -through its fertile, well-tilled valley and -admired the prosperous, up-to-date towns along -the way. We traversed the rough, sinuous trails -over the summits of the rugged Cascades into the -virgin redwoods of Del Norte and Humboldt -Counties. For more than a hundred miles the -narrow road twists through these giant trees, -coming at times to commanding headlands from -which there are endless vistas of shining sea. We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span> -visited Eureka, the wonder city of the North, -long shut in behind ranges of almost impenetrable -hills and dependent on the sea alone—though -now it has a railroad and lives in hopes -of the coming of the new state highway. We -saw Shasta of the eternal snows and Lassen’s -smoke-shrouded peak. We followed the rugged -coastline of Mendocino County with its stern -headlands overlooking leagues of glorious ocean. -We coursed through the vast vineyards of the -Napa and Santa Rosa Valleys with the terraced -hill ranges on either hand showing everywhere -the careful tillage one sees in Italy or along the -Rhine. We crossed the pine-clad hills that shut -in beautiful Clear Lake Valley with its giant oaks -and crystal sheet of water—which still lingers -in our memories as the loveliest spot in all California. -We traversed the great plain of the Sacramento, -whose pastoral beauty and quiet prosperity -rivals that of the Mississippi Valley.</p> - -<p>Nor was the element of historic interest entirely -lacking. Old Fort Ross and the names -that still cling to a few places about the Russian -River reminded us that at one time the Czar -nearly added Northern California to his vast domains. -We found footprints of the padres at San -Rafael and Sonoma and no doubt they would -have carried the chain on to the Columbia River -had not the Mexicans interfered. We came upon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span> -reminders of the terrible privations suffered by -the pioneers—for did we not look down on placid -Donner Lake, which takes its name from one of -the saddest of the endless tragedies that befell -the emigrant trains? There are many relics, too, -of the romantic days of ’49, and we came upon -places where gold is still being mined, though by -methods vastly different from those of the panhandlers -of Bret Harte. We found many memories -of Lewis and Clarke and of Marcus Whitman, -who did so much to put Oregon under the -Stars and Stripes, and more than once we crossed -the trail of Fremont, the tireless Pathfinder.</p> - -<p>But why anticipate farther, since I shall -endeavor to describe in detail as I proceed with -the story of our tour? Even were I to write -nothing more, I hope I have proved my contention -that it is well worth while to explore this -new wonderland—but I trust that I shall find -language as I progress to make even more apparent -the savage grandeur of these hills, the weird -loveliness of the lakes, the majesty of the virgin -forests, and the glories of rugged coast and restless -ocean.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="ip_23" class="p4 figcenter" style="max-width: 40em;"> - <img src="images/i041.jpg" width="629" height="377" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>A CORNER OF LAKE TAHOE</p> - -<p>From painting by Thos. Moran</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="II" class="vspace">II<br /> - -<span class="subhead">TO THE LAND OF SKY-BLUE WATER</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>There are two routes from Sacramento to -Lake Tahoe which carry nine-tenths of the motor -travel to that interesting region. Both traverse -a picturesque mountain country with a spice of -historic and romantic interest and most motor -visitors, naturally enough, go by one route and -return by the other. That we did not do so was -the result of the miscarriage of our plans, due to -a break-down of the car we had leased of a Los -Angeles dealer for our first trip. This made it -necessary to go part of the way by train and -when repairs to the car were made, we returned -by the route over which we had come. The -following year, in our own car, we again visited -Tahoe, going from San Francisco by the way of -Sacramento and Placerville and continuing our -journey northward from the lake.</p> - -<p>In each instance we passed the night at -Sacramento, which is the best starting point for -the day’s run to Tahoe, being about one hundred -and twenty miles distant by either route. We -were sure of every comfort and convenience here—there -are a dozen hotels ranging from good-enough<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span> -to first-class—and our repeated visits had -given us more and more of a liking for Sacramento. -It is a clean, beautiful city, practically -a seaport, so deep and broad is its mighty tide-water -river, which carries a yearly commerce, -incoming and outgoing, of an aggregate value -of more than fifty million dollars. The surrounding -country is very fertile, with greatly varied -agricultural and fruit-growing resources which -form the basis of the city’s prosperity and assure -its future. Its streets and private and public -buildings have a truly metropolitan appearance -which in the east would indicate a city of much -more than fifty or sixty thousand population. -The Capitol building, a white marble structure -of purely classic lines, stands in a beautiful semi-tropic -park of about forty acres. This is beautified -with endless varieties of shrubs and trees, -among them palms of many species, for the climate -is such that orange groves, olives and -almonds flourish quite as vigorously as in Southern -California. The oranges ripen here from six -weeks to two months earlier than in the south, -giving the growers the advantage of early -markets, and the quality of the fruit is equal to -the best. Surrounding the city are endless -orchards of peach, pear, prune, apricot, cherry, -and many other varieties of fruit trees; and there -are extensive vineyards of both wine and table<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span> -grapes. Dairying, stock-raising, gardening, as -well as other branches of farming are carried on—very -profitably, if one may judge by appearances. -Manufacturing is also done on a considerable -scale in the city and vicinity and gold -mining in the county is an industry producing -about two millions annually. All of which would -seem to indicate that Sacramento has not yet -reached the zenith of its growth and prosperity. -It is favorably situated as to railroads, having a -service of three transcontinental lines since the -Santa Fe has leased right of way over the Western -Pacific. The new state highway enters the -city from north and south and a direct route has -been opened to San Francisco by the completion -of the great Yolo Trestle, shortening the distance -by wagon road—thirty miles less than via Stockton -and Altamont, formerly the standard route. -This great engineering feat bridges the Yolo -basin, which is flooded during several months of -the year, with a solid concrete causeway twenty-one -feet wide and over three miles long, carried -on re-enforced concrete piles rising twenty feet -above ground. It was completed in about -eighteen months and cost a little under four hundred -thousand dollars. We ran over it on our -last trip to Sacramento and it seemed like a fairy -tale indeed to be bowling along twenty feet -above the formerly impassable marsh as safely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span> -and smoothly as upon an asphalted city boulevard. -In addition to the state highway, Sacramento -County already has many miles of good -road of her own construction, but she is planning -still larger things in the immediate future. A -highway bond issue of two million dollars was -authorized late in 1916 by a majority of nearly -four to one, emphatically proving the enlightenment -of the citizens of the county on the question -of improved roads. The proceeds of this issue -will improve practically all the main highways -and make Sacramento County one of the favorite -touring grounds of the state.</p> - -<p>Historically, the capital city is one of the -most interesting towns in the state, since it is -the oldest settlement of white men in the interior -of California. It had a population of more than -ten thousand in 1849, though doubtless the -majority of the inhabitants were transient gold-seekers. -It was the goal of the greater number -of emigrants who came overland during the “gold -fever” period and was a famous outfitting point -for the prospective miners who rushed here because -of the proximity of the gold fields. Ten -years earlier a colony of Swiss emigrants, under -the name of New Helvetia, was established on -the present site of the city by Col. John H. Sutter. -It soon became better known as Sutter’s Fort, -on account of the solid blockhouse built by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span> -founder, which still stands in good repair, now -containing a museum of relics of pioneer days. -Sutter employed John Marshall, whom he sent -to Coloma, some fifty miles east of Sacramento, -to build a mill on the South American river. Here -Marshall picked up the famous nugget that threw -the whole world into a ferment in the late forties -and turned the tide of emigration to California.</p> - -<p>But perhaps we are permitting our fondness -for Sacramento to detain us too long on the subject; -it did not prevent us, however, from getting -an early start from our hotel on the Auburn road -for Tahoe. Out of the city for several miles -through a fertile orchard and farm country, we -pursued a level, well-improved road which led us -toward the great hill range that marks the western -confines of the valley. Entering the rounded -brown foothills, we kept a steady ascent through -scattering groves of oak and pine, with here and -there along the way a well-ordered stock farm -or fruit ranch. It was in the height of the peach -season and a sign at a ranch house gate tempted -us to purchase. A silver dime brought us such -a quantity of big, luscious, rosy-cheeked fruit that -we scarcely knew where to bestow it about the -car. It was just off the tree and ripe to perfection, -and by comparison with the very best one -could buy in a fruit market, it seemed a new and -unheard-of variety—ambrosia fit only for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span> -gods. Its fragrance and savoriness linger with -us yet and do much to mitigate the recollection -of divers disasters and disappointments that -overtook us ere we reached our destination. And -they told us that so immense was the crop of -peaches and pears in this locality that some of -this unequalled fruit was being fed to the pigs.</p> - -<p>Following a winding but fair road through -the hills, we soon came, as we supposed, into the -main part of Auburn, for we had taken no pains -to learn anything about the town. At the foot -of a sharp hill we paused in a crooked street with -a row of ramshackle buildings on either side and -it was apparent at a glance that the population -of the ancient-looking town was chiefly Chinese. -A few saloons and one or two huge wooden -boarding houses were the most salient features -and a small blacksmith shop near the end of the -street was labeled “Garage.” We mentally -classed “Sweet Auburn” with Chinese Camp and -following the road leading out of the place began -the ascent of an exceedingly steep hill.</p> - -<p>We were not destined to pass old Auburn -with so short an acquaintance, for something -went wrong with the gearing of the car before -we were half way up the hill and we returned -perforce to the wretched little garage we had -passed, never dreaming that at the crest of the -hill was a fine, modern town with one of the best-equipped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span> -machine shops we saw outside of the -cities. While the proprietor of the garage, who -combined in his single person the function of -consulting engineer and mechanical repairman, -was endeavoring to diagnose our trouble, we -learned from a bystander that there was another -Auburn on the hilltop with an excellent hotel—welcome -news, for apparently chances were -strong for passing the night in the town. We -found the newer section well built and attractive, -with a handsome courthouse, an imposing high -school, and a new bank building with tall, classic -pillars that would hardly be out of place on Fifth -Avenue. Best of all, we found a comfortable -hotel, which did much to mitigate the disappointment -of our enforced sojourn in the town.</p> - -<p>Though the trouble with the car was trifling, -much time was consumed by our garage expert -in locating it and still more in dissuading him -from making a three-days’ job of it by tearing -the machine to pieces, which he evinced a lively -desire to do. A threat to remove the car to the -garage on the hill, however, proved efficacious -and by the middle of the afternoon he pronounced -the job complete. And here we may pause to -remark that before we reached Tahoe we had -more serious trouble with this miserable car, -which we shall pass over for the double reason -that a recital would vex us with harrowing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span> -memories and be of no interest to the reader. We -only registered a silent, solemn vow with good -St. Christopher, the patron saint of all travelers, -that our next tour should be made in our own car -and we fulfilled our vow a year later in the long -jaunt to Portland and return covered by this -book.</p> - -<p>As it was too late in the day to continue our -journey after the car was ready, we contented -ourselves with driving about town. The hotel -people especially urged us not to miss the view -from a second hill which dominated the new -town and upon which may be found the homes -of Auburn’s Four Hundred. A truly magnificent -outlook greeted us from this hillcrest—a far-reaching -panorama of the canyon of the American -River, intersected by the gleaming stream -more than a thousand feet beneath. On either -side of the river we beheld range upon range of -wooded hills stretching away to the blue haze of -the horizon, the rugged wall of the Sierras looming -dimly in the far distance. From our point -of vantage, we could see the broad vale of the -Sacramento to the westward, and, nearer at -hand, the foothills intersected by the pleasant -valleys with orchards and cultivated fields, dotted -here and there with white ranch houses.</p> - -<p>Beyond Auburn the road climbs steadily to -Colfax, a few short pitches ranging from fifteen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span> -to twenty per cent. The surface was good and -we were delighted by many fine vistas from the -hilltops as we hastened along. At Applegate was -a deserted hotel and “tent city,” said to be very -popular resorts earlier in the summer. Colfax -was the Illinois Town of mining times and still -has many buildings dating back to the “days of -gold.” The town was given its present name -when the steam road came and it is now a center -of considerable activity in railroading. Here we -heard of a new California industry, for tobacco -is grown in the vicinity and cigars made from -the home-grown plant may be had at the local -shops. There is also a famous vineyard and -winery near the town, operated by an Italian -colony similar to those of the Napa Valley. -There is much beautiful scenery about Colfax. -From the nearby summits across long reaches of -forest-clad hills, one may see on one hand the -mighty ranks of the snow-clad Sierras and on -the other the dim outlines of the Coast Range. -On exceptionally clear days, they told us, the -shining cone of Shasta may be seen, though it is -more than one hundred and fifty miles away.</p> - -<p>Out of Colfax we continue to climb steadily -and soon come upon reminders of the days when -this was one of the greatest gold-producing sections -of California. The hillsides everywhere -show the scars of old-time placer mining.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span> -Millions of the precious metal were produced -here in the few years following ’49, but operations -have long since ceased and the deserted -villages are fast falling into ruin. Dutch Flat -and Gold Run, now stations on the Southern -Pacific, could no doubt have furnished Bret Harte -with characters and incidents quite as varied and -picturesque as Angel’s Camp or Sonora had his -wanderings brought him hither. For the disappearance -of the good old golden days, the -natives console themselves in this fashion, quoting -advertising literature issued by Placer -County: “In days gone by the gold mining -industry made this section famous. To-day the -golden fruit brings it wealth and renown.” And -it also holds forth the hope that scientific mining -methods may yet find “much gold in the old river -beds and seams of gold-bearing rock.”</p> - -<p>From Dutch Flat to Emigrant Gap, perhaps -a dozen miles, the road climbs continually, winding -through pine forests that crowd closely on -either hand. Here is one of the wildest sections -of the Sierras accessible to motor cars, and the -weird beauty culminates at Emigrant Gap, a -great natural gash in the Sierras which in early -days gave its name to the road by which the -great majority of overland emigrants entered -California. Near this point, a little distance to -the right of the road and some two thousand feet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span> -beneath, lies Bear Valley, one of the loveliest -vales of the Sierras—in early summer an emerald -green meadow—lying between Yuba River and -Bear Creek, shut in on every hand by tree-clad -slopes. From Emigrant Gap to the summit of -the divide, a distance of twenty-seven miles, the -road mounts steadily through the pines, winding -around abrupt turns and climbing heavy grades—the -last pitch rising to thirty per cent, according -to our road book, though we doubt if it is -really so steep. Crystal Lake and Lake Van -Orten are passed on the way, two blue mountain -tarns lying far below on the right-hand side of -the road. From the summit, at an elevation of -a little over seven thousand feet, we have a -wonderful view both eastward and westward. -Behind us the rugged hills through which we -have wended our way slope gently to the Sacramento -Valley—so gently that in the one hundred -miles since leaving the plain we have risen only -a mile and a half. Before us is the sharper fall -of the eastern slope and far beneath, in a setting -of green sward and stately pines, the placid blue -waters of Donner Lake, beautiful despite the -tragic associations which come unbidden to our -minds.</p> - -<p>The Donner party of thirty-one people set -out from Illinois in April, 1846, and after almost -unbelievable hardships, which caused the death<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span> -of many of them, arrived in the vicinity of -Truckee in October. Here they were overtaken -by a terrific snowstorm that made farther progress -impossible and they camped on the shores -of Donner Lake until the following February. -Many other emigrants had joined the party on -the way and in spite of the numerous deaths -while enroute, eighty-three were snowed in at -this camp. Forty-nine of these perished before -relief arrived and only eighteen finally survived -to reach California. The first crossing by emigrants -over this route was made in 1844 and the -fate of the Donner party was due to being caught -by the early winter rather than the difficulties of -the road. Snow fell during that winter to the -depth of twenty-two feet, as proven by a stump -of a tree cut by the emigrants; and a fall of from -ten to twenty feet is not uncommon even now -in this vicinity.</p> - -<p>Crossing the mountains, one is appalled by -the thought of the difficulties encountered by the -pioneer who had neither road nor signboard, but -must make his way over rugged hills and deep -valleys, across wide rivers, and through virgin -forests with only a dimly blazed trail to guide -him—and even this was often wanting. If a -motor trip across the continent even now is not -without its difficulties and discomforts, what -hardships must the pioneers with the ox-drawn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span> -wagons have endured in that far-off day when -neither railway nor wagon road entered the -savage wilderness and the only inhabitants were -hostile Indians and wild beasts.</p> - -<div id="ip_34" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 27em;"> - <img src="images/i055.jpg" width="427" height="528" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>ACROSS LAKE TAHOE</p> - -<p>From painting by H. H. Bagg</p></div></div> - -<p>The descent from the summit of the divide -to Truckee is gradual, some twelve hundred feet -in nine miles, though there are a few short, steep -grades of from fifteen to twenty per cent, according -to our authority. It was dark when we -reached Truckee, but as there was no chance of -going astray on the road to Tahoe Tavern, we -determined to proceed. The road for the entire -distance of fifteen miles closely follows the -Truckee River, a swift, shallow stream fed from -the limpid waters of Lake Tahoe. It was a glorious -moonlight night and the gleaming river, the -jagged hills on either hand, and the dark pine -forests, all combined to make a wild but entrancingly -beautiful effect. As we later saw the -Truckee Canyon by daylight, we have every reason -to be glad that we traversed it by moonlight -as well.</p> - -<p>Tahoe Tavern, with its myriad lights, was a -welcome sight, none the less, after an exceedingly -strenuous trip, the personal details of which -I have forborne to inflict upon the reader. We -were given rooms in the new annex, a frame-and-shingle -building, and were delighted to find -that our windows opened upon the moonlit lake.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span> -The mountain tops on the opposite shore were -shrouded in heavy clouds through which the -moon struggled at intervals, transmuting the -clear, still surface of the lake from a dark, dull -mirror to a softly lighted sheet of water with a -path of gleaming silver running across it. -Directly a thunder storm broke over the eastern -shore—very uncommon in summer, we were told—and -we had the spectacle of clouds and lake -lighted weirdly by flashes of lightning. The -thunder rolling among the peaks and across the -water brought vividly to our minds Byron’s -description of a thunderstorm on Lake Geneva -in the Alps. For a short time it seemed as if -“every mountain peak had found a tongue,” but -the storm died away without crossing the lake.</p> - -<p>We may as well admit that we failed to carry -out our resolution to see sunrise on the lake, for -we did not waken until the sun was shining -broadly into our window, to which we hastened -for a first impression of Tahoe by daylight. We -beheld a smooth, steel-blue sheet of water with -a sharply defined mountain range in the distance—no -suggestion of the color miracle we had -heard so much about; we learned that you must -see Tahoe from many viewpoints and at many -periods of the day to know a few of the myriad -phases of its beauty.</p> - -<p>Tahoe Tavern, a huge, brown, rambling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span> -building in a fine grove of pines, fronts directly -on a little bay and commands a glorious outlook -of lake and distant mountains. It is a delightfully -retired and quiet place, ideal for rest and -recuperation, while the surrounding country is -unmatched in scenic attractions for those inclined -to exploration, whether by steamer, motor, on -horseback, or afoot. We found the service and -the cuisine equal to the best resort hotels in California—and -that is saying a great deal, since -California in this particular leads the world. The -Tavern’s popularity is evidenced by the fact that -the main building, capable of accommodating -several hundred guests, has been supplemented -by the large annex and even then in season it -is well to engage rooms in advance of arrival. -Here we found a quiet yet exhilarating spot, the -toil and tumult of the busy world shut out by -impregnable mountain barriers, where one may -repose and commune with nature in her grandest -and most enchanting aspects.</p> - -<p>After making the acquaintance of the -friendly chipmunks about the inn—which have -so far overcome their natural timidity as to take -morsels from your fingers or even to rifle your -pockets in search of peanuts—and laughing at -the antics of the blue jays, almost as fearless, we -decided to board the excursion steamer, which -makes a daily round of the lake. Once out from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span> -the shore and well started on our southward -journey, we began to realize something of the -wonderful colorings that no one who has seen -Tahoe can ever forget. About us the water was -of the deepest, clearest, ultra-marine blue, shading -by many gradations into emerald green near the -shores. The colors were more intense than we -had ever seen before in any body of water and -cannot be entirely due to great depth, for though -the bottom of Tahoe in places is nearly two thousand -feet below the surface, the hue is deeper -than that of the ocean. It is more like liquid, -transparent lapis-lazuli, if we may imagine such -a thing, than anything else I can think of. No -doubt the depth of the water and the deep azure -of the skies are the chief elements in producing -this glorious effect. Yet, for all its blueness, we -could see the bottom of the lake as we steamed -along—indeed, they told us that only in the deepest -places is the bottom invisible on clear, still -days.</p> - -<p>We followed the coast at a little distance, -stopping at the different stations, chiefly camps -and resorts of various degrees. Most of these are -along the west side of the lake between Tahoe -and Tallac, and scattered between them are -many summer villas, chiefly of San Francisco -people. This part of the shore is the most picturesque, -being well wooded, while much of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span> -eastern side is lined with barren and rocky mountains. -At Rubicon Point, mighty cliffs rise high -above the lake and their sheer walls extend far -beneath the water that laves their base. Here -is the deepest, bluest water that we cross, and -they tell us one of the best fishing spots. Passing -from the ultramarine deeps of the Rubicon -Point, we round a sharply jutting promontory -and glide into the jade-green waters of Emerald -Bay, a long, oval-shaped inlet at the southern end -of the lake. Surely, it is rightly named, for here -green predominates, from the steep sides of the -encircling hills to the very center of the shallow -bay. At the upper end of the bay, rising almost -sheer from the green water, is a rocky, scantily-wooded -island where for many years an eccentric -Englishman made his home. Nearly opposite on -the shore is Emerald Bay Camp, perhaps the -most popular of the many permanent camps -around the lake. At Tallac the steamer stops for -an hour to give opportunity for luncheon at the -huge wooden hotel built many years ago by the -late “Lucky” Baldwin. It stands in a grove of -splendid pines and on a site in some ways -superior to that of the tavern. Certainly the surrounding -country is more picturesque and has -more to interest the tourist. Just over the hills -is the beautiful Fallen Leaf Lake and there are -several other jewel-like tarns set in the hills a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span> -little to the west, while Cascade Lake and Emerald -Bay are within walking distance. During -luncheon one of our party expressed disappointment -that the coloring of the lake hardly measured -up to expectations formed from the enthusiastic -descriptions of guidebooks and railroad -literature.</p> - -<p>“You can never see the color beauties of a -lake at their best from a boat,” I declared. “We -once had the opportunity of making the Great -Glen trip by steamer and a year later of following -these splendid Scotch lakes with our car; the -effects of color and light which we saw on the -latter trip were indescribably the more glorious.”</p> - -<p>“Then let’s abandon the boat and hire a car -for the return trip to the Tavern,”—a proposition -to which all agreed. The car, a good one, was -easily secured and we were soon away on what -has been described as the most beautiful twenty-five -mile drive in the world—a true claim so far -as we know; the Columbia River Boulevard or -Crater Lake road may rival it for scenic beauty, -though these are perhaps too different for fair -comparison.</p> - -<p>The day was perfect, crystal clear except for -a few white clouds drifting lazily across the sky -or resting on the summits of the mountains -beyond the lake; a day which our driver, an -agreeable and intelligent young fellow, declared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span> -ideal for seeing Tahoe at its best. For a few -miles out of Tallac we ran through a pine forest, -catching fugitive glimpses of the blue water -through the stately trunks. As we ascended the -ridge overlooking Emerald Bay, exclamations -of delight were frequent and enthusiastic as the -magnificent panorama gradually unfolded to our -view. The climax was reached when our driver -paused at the summit of the ridge, where the -whole of Tahoe spread out before us. Just beneath -on one hand lay Emerald Bay; on the other -gleamed Cascade Lake—a perfect gem in glorious -setting of rock and tree. And the glory of -color that greeted our eyes! Exaggerated in -descriptions? No mortal language ever conveyed -a tithe of its iridescent beauty and never -will. One of the ladies exclaimed, “It is like a -great black opal,” and knowing her passion for -that gem, we recognized the sincerity of her tribute. -And, indeed, the comparison was not inapt. -There were the elusive, changeful greens and -blues, the dark purples, and the strange, uncertain -play of light and color that characterizes that -mysterious gem. Near the shore line the greens -predominated, reaching the deepest intensity in -Emerald Bay, just below. Passing through -many variations of color, the greens merged into -the deep blues and farther out in the lake purple -hues seemed to prevail. Along the opposite shore<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span> -ran the rugged mountain range, the summits -touched by cloud-masses which held forth the -slightest threat of a summer shower—and, -indeed, it came just before we reached the tavern. -Overhead the sky was of the deepest azure and -clear save for a few tiny white clouds mirrored -in the gloriously tinted water. Altogether, the -scene was a combination of transcendent color -with a setting of rugged yet beautiful country -that we have never seen equalled elsewhere and -which we have no words to fittingly describe. -Even the master artist fails here, since he can but -express one mood of the lake—while it has a -thousand every day. We have seen the Scotch, -Italian and English lakes; we sailed the length -of George and Champlain; we admired the mountain -glories of Yellowstone Lake; we viewed -Klamath and Crater Lakes from mountain -heights, but none of them matched the wonderful -color variations of Tahoe.</p> - -<p>But we are on our way again, descending -and climbing long grades which pass through -pine forests and come out on headlands from -which we gain new and entrancing views of lake -and mountains. The road was completed only -recently, but it is good in the main, though there -are steep pitches and some rough and dusty -stretches. At times it takes us out of sight of -the lake, but we are compensated by wild and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span> -rugged scenery—towering crags and massive -walls of gray stone—rising above us on every -hand. The road must have presented considerable -engineering difficulties; our driver points -out a place where a mighty rock of a thousand -tons or more was blasted to fragments to clear -the way. Far above us on the mountain crests -we see gleaming patches of snow which the late -summer sun has not been able to dispel. We -cross clear mountain streams and wind through -groves of pine and spruce. Often as we climb -or descend the long grades we come upon new -vistas of the lake and mountains and occasionally -we ask for a moment’s delay to admire some -especially beautiful scene. Then we descend -almost to the level of the water, which we see -flashing through stately trunks or rippling upon -clear, pebbly beaches. We pass various resorts, -each surrounded by pines and commanding a -beautiful view of the lake. As we approach the -Tavern the summer shower that has been threatening -begins and to the color glories of sky and -lake are added the diamond-like brilliance of the -big drops, for the sun is unobscured by the -clouds. Beyond a stretch of smooth water, -dimmed to dull silver by the blue-gray vapor -hanging over it, a rainbow hovers in front of the -dim outlines of the distant hills. It was a fitting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span> -climax to the most inspiring drive in the many -thousands of miles covered by our wanderings.</p> - -<p>We spent the remainder of the afternoon -and the evening about the Tavern. Especially -we admired the casino with its arcade fronting -directly on the lake; here amusements of every -description tempt the guest who finds time heavy -on his hands, but we found more enjoyment in -the beautiful scenes from the wide arches. Near -by we found a photograph shop in charge of our -friend, Valentine of Los Angeles, some of whose -splendid pictures adorn this book. He had come -to Tahoe before the roads were clear and told -us of some desperate work in getting through, -spending the night in his car while stuck in a -snowdrift.</p> - -<p>Circumstances made it impracticable that -we remain longer at the Tavern and we left the -next morning for Sacramento with the mental -resolution that we would come again at our -earliest opportunity. That opportunity came a -little more than a year later. We again found -ourselves in Sacramento on the beginning of the -northern tour covered by this book. We had -discarded our trouble-making hired car for our -own machine, long, low, and heavy, so solidly -built that not a single part gave way under the -terribly severe conditions of the tour.</p> - -<p>Out of Sacramento we followed the new<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span> -state highway, then almost completed to Placerville. -On the way to Folsom we saw much of -gold mining under modern conditions. Monstrous -floating steam dredges were eating their -way through the fields and for miles had thrown -up great ridges of stones and gravel from which -the gold had been extracted by a process of washing. -Something less than two million dollars -annually is produced in Sacramento County, -mainly by this process, and the cobblestones, -after being crushed by powerful machinery, serve -the very useful purpose of road-building. Beyond -Folsom the highway winds through uninteresting -hills covered with short brown grass and -diversified with occasional oak trees. We kept -a pretty steady upward trend as we sped toward -the blue hill ranges, but there were no grades -worth mentioning west of Placerville. Before -we reached the town we entered the splendid pine -forest which continues all the way to Tahoe.</p> - -<p>Placerville has little to recall its old-time -sobriquet of Hangtown, the name by which it -figures in Bret Harte’s stories. Here, indeed, was -the very storm center of the early gold furor—but -five miles to the north is Coloma, where -Marshall picked up the nugget that turned the -eyes of the world to California in ’49. Over the -very road which we were to pursue out of the -town poured the living tide of gold seekers which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span> -spread out through all the surrounding country. -To-day, however, Placerville depends little on -mining; its narrow, crooked main street and a -few ancient buildings are the only reminders of -its old-time rough-and-tumble existence. It is a -prosperous town of three thousand people and -handsome homes, with well-kept lawns, are not -uncommon. We also noted a splendid new courthouse -of Spanish colonial design wrought in -white marble, a fine example of the public spirit -that prevails in even the more retired California -communities. The site of the town is its greatest -drawback. Wedged as it is in the bottom of a -vast canyon, there is little possibility of regularity -in streets and much work has been necessary to -prepare sites for homes and public buildings. A -certain picturesqueness and delightful informality -compensates for all this and the visitor is sure -to be pleased with the Placerville of to-day aside -from its romantic history. Two fairly comfortable -hotels invite the traveler to stop and make -more intimate acquaintance with the town, which -a recent writer declares is noted for its charming -women—an attraction which it lacked in its -romantic mining days.</p> - -<p>Beyond Placerville the road climbs steadily, -winding through the giant hills and finally crossing -the American River, which we followed for -many miles—now far above with the green<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span> -stream gleaming through the pines and again -coursing along its very banks. There are many -deciduous trees among the evergreens on these -hills and the autumn coloring lent a striking -variation to the somber green of the pines. We -had never before realized that there were so -many species besides conifers on the California -mountains. Maples and aspens were turning -yellow and crimson and many species of vines -and creepers lent brilliant color dashes to the -scene. There was much indeed to compensate -for the absence of the flowers which bloom in -profusion earlier in the season. We passed several -comfortable-looking inns and resorts whose -names—Sportsman’s Hall, for instance—indicated -retreats for hunters and fishermen.</p> - -<p>Georgetown, some forty miles above Placerville, -is the only town worthy of the name between -the latter place and Tahoe. Beyond here -we began the final ascent to the summit of the -divide over a road that winds upwards in long -loops with grades as high as twenty-five per cent. -There were many fine vistas of hill and valley, -rich in autumn colorings that brightened the -green of the pines and blended into the pale -lavender haze that shrouded the distant hills. -From the summit, at an altitude of seventy-four -hundred feet, we had a vast panorama of lake, -forest, and mountain—but I might be accused of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span> -monotonous repetition were I to endeavor to -describe even a few of the scenes that enchanted -us. Every hilltop, every bend in the road, and -every opening through the forests that lined our -way presented views which, taken alone, might -well delight the beholder for hours—only their -frequent recurrence tended to make them almost -commonplace to us.</p> - -<div id="ip_48" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i071.jpg" width="551" height="402" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>CAVE ROCK, LAKE TAHOE</p> - -<p>From photo by Putnam & Valentine, Los Angeles, Cal.</p></div></div> - -<p>The descent to the lake is somewhat steeper -than the western slope, but the road is wide with -broad turns and we had no trouble in passing a -big yellow car that was rushing the grade with -wide-open “cut-out” in a crazy endeavor to get -as far as possible on “high.” Coming down to -Myers, a little supply station at the foot of the -grade, we learned that the Tavern and many -other resorts were already closed and decided to -pass the night at Glenbrook, about midway on -the eastern shore of the lake. For a dozen miles -after leaving Myers, our road ran alternately -through forests and green meadows—the -meadows about Tahoe remain green the summer -through—finally coming to the lake shore, which -we followed closely for the twenty miles to Glenbrook. -Most of the way the road runs only a -few feet above the water level and we had many -glorious vistas differing from anything we had -yet seen. In the low afternoon sun the color had -largely vanished and we saw only a sheet of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span> -gleaming silver edged with clearest crystal, which -made the pebbly bottom plainly visible for some -distance from the shore. Here an emerald -meadow with sleek-looking cattle—there are -many cattle in the Tahoe region—lay between -us and the shining water; again it gleamed -through the trunks of stately pines. For a little -while it was lost to view as we turned into the -forest which crowded closely to the roadside, only -to come back in a moment to a new view—each -one different and seemingly more entrancing -than the last, culminating in the wonderful spectacle -from Cave Rock. This is a bold promontory, -pierced beneath by the caves that give its -name, rising perhaps one hundred feet above the -water and affording a view of almost the entire -lake and the encircling mountains. On the western -side the mountains throw their serrated peaks -against the sky, while to the far north they -showed dimly through a thin blue haze. The -lake seemed like a great sapphire shot with gold -from the declining sun—altogether a different -aspect in color, light and shadow from anything -we had witnessed before. We paused awhile to -admire the scene along with several other wayfarers—pedestrians, -cyclists, and motorists who -were alike attracted by the glorious spectacle.</p> - -<p>Two or three miles farther brought us to -Glenbrook, a quiet nook at the foot of mighty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span> -hills, pine-clad to the very summits. The hotel -is a large but unpretentious structure directly by -the roadside and fronting on the lake. In connection -with the inn is a group of rustic cottages, -one of which was assigned to us. It had a new -bathroom adjoining and there was a little sheet-iron -stove with fuel all laid for a fire—which -almost proved a “life-saver” in the sharp, frosty -air of the following morning. The cottage stood -directly on the lake shore and afforded a magnificent -view of the sunset, which I wish I were -able to adequately describe. A sea of fire glowed -before us as the sun went down behind the mountains, -which were dimmed by the twilight -shadows. Soon the shadows gave place to a thin -amethyst haze which brought out sharply against -the western sky the contour of every peak and -pinnacle. The amethyst deepened to purple, -followed by a crimson afterglow which, with -momentary color variations, continued for nearly -an hour; then the light gradually faded from the -sky and the lake took on an almost ebony hue—a -dark, splendid mirror for the starlit heavens.</p> - -<p>The excellent dinner menu of the inn was -a surprise; we hardly expected it in such a remote -place. They told us that the inn maintains its -own gardens and dairy, and the steamer brings -supplies daily. The inn keeps open only during -the season, which usually extends from May to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span> -October, but there is some one in charge the year -round and no one who comes seeking accommodations -is ever turned away. Though completely -isolated by deep snows from all land communication, -the steamer never fails, since the lake -does not freeze, even in the periods of below-zero -weather. We found the big lounging room, -with its huge chimney and crackling log fire, a -very comfortable and cheery place to pass the -evening and could easily see how anyone seeking -rest and quiet might elect to sojourn many days -at Glenbrook. But Glenbrook was not always -so delightfully quiet and rural. Years ago, back -in the early eighties, it was a good-sized town -with a huge saw mill that converted much of the -forest about the lake into lumber. There are still -hundreds of old piles that once supported the -wharves, projecting out of the water of the little -bay in front of the hotel—detracting much from -the beauty of the scene.</p> - -<p>We were astir in the morning, wondering -what the aspect of our changeful lake might be -in the dawning light; and sure enough, the -change was there—a cold, steel blue sheet of -water, rippling into silver in places. Near the -shore all was quiet, not a wave lapping the beach -as on the previous night. The mountains beyond -the lake were silhouetted with startling distinctness -against a silvery sky, and on many of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span> -summits were flecks of snow that had outlasted -the summer.</p> - -<p>We had thought to go on to Reno by the -way of Carson City, but we could not bring ourselves -to leave the lake and so we decided to go -by way of Truckee, even though we had previously -covered the road. It proved a fortunate -decision, for we saw another shifting of the -wonderful Tahoe scenery—the morning coloring -was different from that of the afternoon and -evening. We had the good fortune to pick up -an old inhabitant of Tahoe City whose car had -broken down on one of the heavy grades and who -told us much about the lake and the country -around it. He had lived near Tahoe for more -than thirty-five years and could remember the -days of the prospectors and saw mills. Nearly -all the timber about the lake is of new growth -since the lumbering days. This accounts for the -absence of large trees except in a few spots which -escaped the lumberman’s ax. Yellow pines, firs, -and cedars prevail, with occasional sugar pines -and some deciduous varieties. It is, indeed, a -pity that Tahoe and the surrounding hills were -not set aside as a national park before so much -of the country had passed into private hands.</p> - -<p>A fairly good road has been constructed for -nearly three quarters of the distance around the -lake and a very indifferent wagon road from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span> -Tahoe City to Glenbrook completes the circuit. -The latter we did not cover, being assured that -it was very difficult if not impassable for motors. -Plans are under way for a new road around the -northern end of the lake, which will enable the -motorist to encircle this wonderful body of water—a -trip of about eighty miles—and will afford -endless viewpoints covering scenes of unparalleled -beauty. The whole of the road about the -lake ought to be improved—widened and surfaced -and some of the steeper grades and more -dangerous turns eliminated. It might then be -the “boulevard” that one enthusiastic writer -characterizes it, even in its present condition, but -in our own humble opinion it has a long way to -go before it deserves such a title.</p> - -<p>At the Tavern we reluctantly turned away -from the lake—it seemed to us as if we could -never weary of its changeful beauty—and for the -next dozen miles we followed the course of the -Truckee River, at no time being more than a few -rods distant from it. It is a clear, swift stream -with greenish color tones and was still of fair -size, though at its lowest ebb. Our road at times -ran directly alongside within a few feet of its -banks; again a sharp pitch carried us some distance -above it and afforded fine views of valley -and river. None of the grades were long, but -one or two are steep, exceeding twenty per cent.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span> -The railroad, a flimsy, narrow-gauge affair, -closely parallels the river and wagon road, but -it is kept running the year round and keeps the -scanty winter population about Tahoe in touch -with the world.</p> - -<p>Truckee is a typical wild western village -with rather more than its share of saloons. These -are well patronized, for there is a large working -population in and about the town. It is a railroad -division; a saw mill near by employs eight -hundred men and a large paper pulp factory -nearly as many. All of which contribute to make -it a lively place and its Chamber of Commerce -has organized a winter Ice Carnival for the purpose -of giving those Californians who live on -the coast and in the great central valleys an -opportunity of seeing what real winter is like and -enjoying its sports. The carnival opens on -Christmas Day and continues until the middle -of March. A huge ice palace is devoted to -skating and dancing, while tobogganing, skiing -and sleighing are the outdoor amusements. -They told us that so far the festival has proven -a great success, attracting people from every part -of the state.</p> - -<p>Out of Truckee we ran for fifteen or twenty -miles through a barren sagebrush country with -only an occasional tumble-down abandoned ranch -house to break the monotony of the scene. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span> -road was fine, but it took a sudden turn for the -worse when we entered the straggling yellow -pine forest that covers the hill range between -Truckee and Reno. It was rough and stony in -spots and we climbed steadily for several miles. -We saw some pretty scenery, however, for the -mighty forest rose to the very summits of the -rugged hills above us and followed the dark canyon -below downward to the river’s edge. Beyond -the summit we began the descent of Dog Canyon—whence -its poetical designation we did not -learn—the longest and steepest straight grade -we encountered in several thousand miles of -mountaineering. For seven miles or more it -drops down the side of the canyon without -a single turn, the grades ranging from six to -twenty per cent, deep with dust and very rough -in places, a trying descent on brakes and driver. -We met a few cars scrambling wearily up with -steaming radiators and growling gears, but what -more excited our sympathies were several canvas-covered -wagons drawn by reeking horses that -seemed ready to drop in their tracks from exhaustion. -At the foot of the grade just beyond the -Nevada line, we came into the village of Verdi, -directly on the river and evidently the destination -of many of the pine logs we had seen along -our road, for here was a large saw mill. Beyond -Verdi we followed the Truckee, bordered by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span> -emerald green alfalfa fields just being mown. -The yield was immense, indicating a rich, well-watered -soil, but in the main the ranch houses -were small and poor, with squalid surroundings. -Nearer Reno, however, we noted some improvement -and occasionally we passed a neat and prosperous-looking -ranch house. Coming into the -town we sought the Riverside Hotel, which is -rightly named, for it stands directly on the banks -of the Truckee. We had difficulty in getting satisfactory -accommodations—court was in session -and it was opening day of the races, with a consequent -influx of litigants and sports. We -learned later that Reno is always a busy town -and advance hotel arrangements should not be -neglected by prospective guests.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="III" class="vspace">III<br /> - -<span class="subhead">RENO TO KLAMATH FALLS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Reno has acquired a nation-wide fame for its -“wide open” proclivities and we fear that much -of the prosperity we saw on every hand may be -due to its liberal though generally deprecated -practices. The 1910 census gave the town a population -of about ten thousand and if we allow a -gain of as much as fifty per cent since then, it -is still no more than a good-sized village so far -as people are concerned. However this may be, -its buildings, public and private, its streets and -residences, its shops and hotels, would do credit -to the average eastern town of from thirty to -fifty thousand. One bank building we especially -noted would not be out of place on Fifth Avenue -and the courthouse, postoffice, the Y. M. C. A. -building, and the theaters are all out of the small-town -class. On the ridge east of the river, surrounded -by beautiful grounds, are numerous -handsome residences built by old-time mining -magnates, most of whom are now dead.</p> - -<p>Mining was the foundation of Reno’s prosperity -and it cuts considerable figure in the commerce -of the town at present. The greater part<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span> -of its business activity, however, is due to the -rich farming country that surrounds the city, to -the railroad machine shops, which employ over -two thousand men, and to several minor manufacturing -establishments which in the aggregate -employ a considerable number of people. These -are resources that may be common to many other -live towns, but Reno has several sources of income -quite peculiar to itself that an indulgent -state legislature, largely composed of Renoans, -has made possible by shrewd enactments. Here -it is still lawful to race horses as in the good old -days with everything wide open and bookmakers -galore. A solid month each year is devoted to -the speed track, during which time the sportively -inclined congregate in Reno from all parts of the -West and squander much ready cash in the town. -Prize fighting is also permitted and here it was -that Robert Fitzsimmons plucked the laurel -wreath from the classic brow of Jim Corbet before -an appreciative audience of fifty thousand -devotees of the manly art from every corner of -the country.</p> - -<p>But Reno’s great specialty has been the -loosening of the matrimonial tie—for a consideration—and -many well-known and wealthy -people became guests of the town for the six -months’ period necessary to secure a divorce. -Yielding to outside public sentiment after awhile,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span> -the legislature extended the period of residence -to one year, hoping, no doubt, to get credit for -righteousness—and more cash from seekers after -matrimonial freedom. It killed the infant industry, -however; evidently the idle rich preferred -to endure the tortures of unhappy married life -rather than spend a year in Reno, and they quit -coming. The legislature hastened to restore the -six-month clause in the statute and as a consequence -the divorce mills are turning out fair -grist again. Our waitress at the hotel pointed -out one or two bejeweled females who were -“doing time” in Reno to get rid of their incompatible -mates, and declared that there was a considerable -colony of both sexes in the town waiting -for their papers. Some authorities intimate -that two thousand dollars is the minimum sum -necessary for an outsider to secure a decree in -a Nevada court, but doubtless many of the multi-millionaires -leave several times that sum behind -them, for the citizens do their full duty in providing -entertainment that will separate their -guests from their cash.</p> - -<p>It would hardly be expected that the prohibition -wave now sweeping the west coast -would be at all likely to cross the Nevada line—in -fact, at this writing Nevada is the only state -to contest with New Jersey for the doubtful -honor of being all wet, where even local option<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span> -has not succeeded in getting a footing. The -saloons of Reno are numerous and palatial and -doubtless contribute not a little to the comfort -of those of the sporting fraternity who make the -town their Mecca. The only attempt at sumptuary -legislation is an “anti-treat” law which -insists that everyone must drink at his own -expense. As to gambling, I was told that this -pleasant pastime has been little interfered with -since the old mining days, though it is not now -conducted so openly except in connection with -the races.</p> - -<p>As the metropolis and center of population -of the state, Reno should logically be the capital, -but this honor is held by Carson, a village of five -thousand people about twenty miles to the south. -Within a radius of fifty miles is grouped perhaps -half the population of the state, which, with all -its vast area of seventy-five thousand square -miles, had but seventy-five thousand people -according to the last census. No other state in -the Union has such vast areas of uninhabited -desert, but the natives will strive to impress upon -you that a great future is assured—all that is -necessary to make this sagebrush country bloom -like the rose is water, and water can be had from -artesian wells almost anywhere in the Nevada -valleys.</p> - -<p>However, it is quite outside my province to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span> -write a disquisition on the resources of Nevada, -and I have been dwelling on Reno only because -it seemed of unusual interest to me and was a -stopping-place on our tour. Our hotel, the Riverside, -is a huge red-brick structure standing -directly on the banks of the Truckee so that its -windows overlook the swift stream, which moves -so rapidly that it does not lose its clearness even -in the town limits. We found the Riverside -fairly comfortable—it would have been still -more so had we made reservations in advance—and -its rates were very moderate as compared -with the average Western hotel of its class. -Reno occupies an important position in the motor -world as a stopping-place on the Lincoln Highway -and an outfitting station for much of the -surrounding country. It has excellent garages -with good repair facilities and its streets were -thronged with cars of all degrees.</p> - -<p>The next morning we took the road to the -north out of the town roughly following the -recently completed Northern California & Oregon -Railroad, which gives Northeastern California -and Southern Oregon an outlet to the -Southern Pacific at Reno. The twenty miles in -Nevada before reaching the California line gave -us an opportunity to see first-hand some of the -state’s resources of which they talked at Reno. -The road was unexpectedly good, smooth and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span> -free from dust, with gently rolling grades. The -view was quite unobstructed and permitted speed -ad libitum, keeping a sharp lookout, of course, -for an occasional rough spot or sandy stretch. -A more desolate country than that which -stretched away on either hand would be hard to -imagine. A wide valley, without even sagebrush -or cactus to relieve its barrenness, was guarded -on both sides by ranges of bleak, rugged hills -which, near at hand, seemed more like vast cinder -heaps than anything else. Only the far distance -was able to transform the scene and to lend something -of “enchantment to the view,” softening -the rough outlines with a violet haze and tinging -the desert sands with hues of mauve and lavender. -Trees and shrubs there were none and there -were scant indications of vegetation at any time -of the year. At long intervals we passed little -deserted ranch houses which indicated that some -hopeful soul had once endeavored to develop the -“resources” of the country, but had given up in -despair and “of his name and race had left no -token and no trace.” At one point we crossed -Dry Lake, a vast, level saline deposit as hard -and white and nearly as smooth as polished -marble—an ideal auto race course.</p> - -<p>Our first town was Doyle, a lonely little -place of half a dozen buildings forty-eight miles -north of Reno. Beyond here we entered Long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span> -Creek Valley, our road climbing short, sharp -pitches and winding about sandstone bluffs with -stretches of heavy sand here and there. However, -the country soon showed much improvement; -there were well-tilled fields and frequent -ranch houses, some of them surrounded by green -lawns, beautified with flowers. Orchards were -common and we saw many apple and pear trees -loaded with luscious-looking fruit. The road -through this section was fair, though little had -been done in the way of permanent improvement. -There is only one long grade and when we -reached the summit of the hills which it surmounts, -we saw a circular valley before us with -an irregular hazy-blue sheet of water in the -center. Somehow we had pictured the northeastern -lakes in our minds as rivals of Tahoe in -beauty and color, but never was greater delusion -than in the case of Honey Lake, which lay before -us. It is a shallow, characterless expanse of -shimmering water set in the midst of a great -basin surrounded on all sides by naked hills. The -shores are flat and marshy and entirely devoid of -trees. It is redeemed from complete unattractiveness -by a narrow ring of fertile and highly -cultivated land from one to three miles wide that -completely surrounds it, sloping upwards from -the shore line to the hillsides. Fronting the lake -at frequent intervals are fairly prosperous-looking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span> -farmhouses in the midst of poplar and walnut -groves. Cattle raising appeared to be the chief -industry, for we saw many herds grazing in the -green meadows around the lake. The name, they -told us, came from the honey-dew which gathers -on the grasses in the vicinity. The lake was -alive with wild fowl—ducks, mud hens, herons, -and pelicans—but the frequent “No Hunting” -signs apprised the sportsman that he was not -welcome here. The road runs entirely around -the lake, but we chose the west side through Milford, -which was fair though very dusty; in wet -weather it must be practically impassable for -motor cars. In winter there is much snow here, -the temperature going sometimes as low as fifteen -or twenty degrees below zero, and the lake -usually freezes quite solid. Like all the lakes of -this section, it is said to be gradually receding, -due to the drain of numerous artesian irrigating -wells.</p> - -<p>Fifteen miles beyond Honey Lake we came -into Susanville, where we planned to stop for the -night. We had no very pleasant anticipations, -to be sure, for the town was rated at one thousand -people and we were resigned to put up with -primitive accommodations without complaint. -We experienced a pleasant surprise on entering -the St. Francis, a well-kept hotel where we found -all modern conveniences. We narrowly missed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span> -being shut out because we failed to make reservations -and we saw other would-be guests turned -away later in the day.</p> - -<p>Susanville is the capital and metropolis of -Lassen, a county of vast extent but scant population. -Here and in Modoc, the county to the -north, the soil is of volcanic origin and Mt. -Lassen, the only active volcano in the United -States, is just beyond the hills to the west. Serving -as a center for such a wide tract of country, -the town naturally outclasses places of a thousand -people in more populous sections. It has -better stores, theaters, garages, and hotels than -are usually found in places of its size. The most -pretentious residence stands at the head of the -main street, a large, crotchety building which -they told us was the home of the chief saloonkeeper, -who runs a palatial bar down the street. -North and west of the town the hills are covered -with a magnificent pine forest—a favorite haunt, -a local sportsman informed us, of deer and other -game. He also told us that we would find a good -road through the forest to Eagle Lake, some -fifteen miles to the northwest, which he declared -the equal of Tahoe for scenic beauty. We had -arrived in the town shortly after noon; there was -still time to drive to Eagle Lake and the car was -ordered forthwith.</p> - -<p>We had proceeded but a little way when we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span> -came upon a force of men working upon the new -state road which is to connect Susanville with -the Pacific Highway at Red Bluff, a distance of -about one hundred miles, making this country -far more accessible to the motorist than at the -time of our visit. Three or four miles out of the -town we turned from the highway into the -forest, following an excellent mountain road -which climbs a steady but moderate grade for a -distance of twelve miles. On either hand towered -gigantic yellow pines, many of which were devoid -of branches for a height of nearly one hundred -feet. It was clear that a fire had swept -through them not so very long ago, destroying -the smaller trees and shrubbery and giving the -forest a wonderfully cleaned-up appearance. It -had apparently done little damage to the big -trees, though some of the trunks were charred to -a considerable height. Some distance beyond the -summit we saw the lake far below us, gleaming -in the low afternoon sun and reminding us of a -great gem set in the dark pines that crowd up to -its shores. It was too late in the day to get much -in color effects, but we agreed that Eagle Lake, -lovely as it is, has no claim for comparison with -Tahoe. The shores of the lake abound with -curious caves extending for miles underground, -some filled with perpetual ice and others through -which icy winds continually roar. Many have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span> -never been fully explored and some of the strange -phenomena have never been satisfactorily -accounted for. The lake teems with trout and -bass, affording far better sport for fishermen than -the more frequented waters and its shores, still -in their native wildness, offer ideal camping sites. -Returning to the town, we saw a wonderful sunset -through the pines and from occasional points -of vantage caught long vistas of wooded hills -stretching away to the crimson sky.</p> - -<p>The northbound road out of Susanville -climbs a barren hill range with grades up to fifteen -per cent and there is scarcely a downward -dip for over seven miles. Not a tree or shrub -obstructs the view from the long switchbacks and -we had a magnificent panorama of the town and -Honey Lake Valley and the far-reaching wooded -hills to the south and west. The road, though -unimproved, was excellent and as volcanic rock -is the base, it is probably good the year round -except when snow prevails. It was not so good -beyond the hillcrest; boulders began to crop out, -making the descent to Merrillville pretty rough. -At the summit we ran into a fine forest of yellow -pine, which continued for several miles. We then -crossed stony, desolate hill ranges—one after another—alternating -with basin-shaped valleys. In -one of these valleys, thirty miles from Susanville, -is Horse Lake, an ugly, shallow sheet of water<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span> -three or four miles long with barren, alkali-encrusted -shores. A notice was posted by the -roadside warning passersby that the water of the -lake is poisonous and it certainly looked like it. -The soil of some of the valleys looked as if it -might be fertile if well watered, but the greater -part of it was strewn with ragged volcanic rocks. -There were occasional miserable little huts, -apparently long deserted, which indicated that at -some time a settler had endeavored to wring an -existence from the inhospitable earth, and had -given up in despair. A few of the more persistent -were still engaged in the struggle, but there was -little indication of prosperity.</p> - -<p>Beyond Horse Lake we climbed a second -mighty hill range and from the summit beheld -the Madeline Plains, a valley far larger than the -ones we had passed. This wide level tract, comprising -over one hundred square miles, is encircled -by volcanic hills which, despite their ugliness -and barrenness when viewed near at hand, -faded away in the distance in a wild riot of coloring. -Lavender merged into purple and purple -deepened to dark blue, which finally shrouded the -hills from our view. Farming in this valley -appeared to be conducted more successfully, -though there is as yet much unimproved land and -none of the ranch houses or their surroundings -showed signs of prosperity. Madeline, on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span> -edge of the plain, is a dilapidated village of a few -dozen people and the big yellow wooden hotel -seemed out of all proportion to any business it -could hope for. Beyond this for many miles the -characteristics of the country continued much -the same, hills and valleys alternating until we -entered the Pitt River Valley, a dozen miles from -Alturas. Here the country began to show considerable -improvement, which gradually increased -until we came into the town.</p> - -<p>Alturas, with about a thousand inhabitants, -the capital of Modoc County, is a good-looking -town with a handsome courthouse of classic -design and a modern high school building. It is -the only place in the huge county that can be -dignified by being called a town—for Modoc, -with its four thousand square miles of area, can -muster only six thousand people, most of whom -live in the narrow valleys between the volcanic -hills or on the plain around the shores of Goose -Lake. This section is at present quite inaccessible -to motorists, but the new highway to be -constructed from Redding will do much to put -the county in touch with the rest of the state.</p> - -<p>Out of Alturas we followed a level and very -good dirt road through a fair-looking farming -section to Davis Creek at the lower end of Goose -Lake, a distance of twenty-two miles. Goose -Lake is the largest of the numerous lakes in this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span> -section—about thirty-five miles in extreme -length by ten at its greatest width. The road -closely follows its shores and beyond Davis -Creek ascends a steep grade leading up the mountainside -overlooking the lake and affording a -glorious view of the fine sheet of water. We -saw it from many angles and altitudes as we -mounted up, each with its peculiar lighting and -coloring—all beautiful and inspiring. We paused -to contemplate the scene at a point from which -nearly the whole lake was visible. It lay beneath -us in the low afternoon sun, glistening blue and -silver, the hill range running along the opposite -shore wrapped in an indigo haze. The waters of -Goose Lake have not the dark, changeful blue of -Tahoe, but seem more like the azure monotone -of the sky, save where the sunlight threw its -white beams across it from the west. Its -monotony of color is doubtless due to the fact -that it is quite shallow, its depth in no place -exceeding eighteen or twenty feet, while the average -is probably not more than five or six feet. -Around it runs a belt of fertile farm land, broadest -on the eastern side. There are many prosperous -ranch houses at intervals and great numbers -of thrifty-looking sheep and cattle grazed -in the meadows which run down to the shore. -The water for irrigating is largely drawn from -the lake or artesian wells near by. This has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span> -caused a steady shrinkage in the lake and, indeed, -may cause it to ultimately disappear, an event -which the lover of the beautiful in natural scenery -must earnestly deplore. For we all agreed that -Goose Lake and its setting were very beautiful -despite its unprepossessing name—and we recalled -how narrowly Tahoe escaped being stigmatized -as Lake Bigler. A rose by any other name might -smell as sweet, perhaps, but it does seem that -Tahoe would lose some of its glory if it bore the -unmusical cognomen of the disloyal ante bellum -governor.</p> - -<p>From the summit of the grade we descended -gradually through a fine pine forest to Willow -Ranch and from there continued through the -level farm lands skirting the shore to the village -of New Pine Creek just across the Oregon border. -Perhaps if we had been able to anticipate the -fate awaiting us at Lakeview we should have -paused at the rather unattractive wooden hotel -in this diminutive burg. In blissful ignorance, -however, we dashed mile after mile over a fairly -level but dusty road, expecting every moment to -come in sight of Lakeview. We had—I hardly -know why—a preconceived notion of a picturesque -little town overlooking the lake from a -pine-covered bluff and a hotel in keeping with -these imaginary surroundings, equipped with -everything to bring peace and joy to the soul of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span> -the motorist after a rough, dusty run. The road -left the lake and the lake gradually receded from -view, and still no town; not until we had left -the northernmost mud-puddle of Goose Lake six -or seven miles behind us did we enter the unattractive, -straggling village whose name had so -excited our anticipations. We entered the principal -hotel with serious misgivings and came out -of it with the determination to pass the night in -the car rather than to occupy the beds that the -unkempt attendant offered us. I forbear farther -comment because conditions change so rapidly -in these western towns; before my book can be -published a new management may turn a dirty, -shabby-looking place into a clean, comfortable -hotel. It has happened in several instances to -my own knowledge and it may happen in Lakeview, -Oregon.</p> - -<p>A friendly native who appreciated our predicament -told us that his people would take us in -at their ranch house, some distance in the country, -if we couldn’t find decent accommodations -in the town. He directed us to another hotel, -which was full, but the landlady bestirred herself -and secured rooms in a private home where we -were comfortably taken care of. Our host was -an old resident of the section—a local politician, -ranch owner, and an enthusiastic hunter and -fisherman. He informed us that the principal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span> -resource of the surrounding country was cattle -and sheep raising, largely on government land, -for which the owner of the stock pays a small -annual fee. He declared that there was a fine -chance for energetic young fellows to do well in -this line and cited an Irish boy of his acquaintance -who had cleared six thousand dollars on -sheep in the two years just past. The recent -extension of the railway to Lakeview, giving -direct connection with the main line at Reno, two -hundred and forty-four miles distant, had given -a great impetus to both farming and stock-raising -in this section.</p> - -<p>“Why Lakeview for a town from which it -is impossible even to see the lake?” we asked.</p> - -<p>“Because the lake originally came up to the -town,” he replied, “but it has been steadily receding -until it is now six miles away.”</p> - -<p>There is good fishing in the lake, which is -stocked with rainbow trout, though our host -declared he much preferred the sport afforded by -the streams of the vicinity and some of the stories -he told of his catches would certainly stir the -blood of anyone addicted to the gentle art of -Ike Walton. Quite as good fortune awaits the -hunter in the vicinity; deer, bear, and smaller -game abound within easy distance of the town. -The game laws of both California and Oregon -are so very stringent, he declared, that an outsider<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span> -will do well to post himself thoroughly -before undertaking a hunting expedition in either -of these states.</p> - -<p>Leaving Lakeview early in the morning, we -thanked our hosts for their kindness in taking -the strangers in—for their exceedingly modest -charge showed that it was not done altogether -for profit.</p> - -<p>“Only a little more than one hundred miles -to Klamath Falls,” we were told, “but a rough, -heavy road much of the way and a hard day’s -run for any car”—all of which we speedily verified -by personal experience. The hardest work -came in the latter half of the run; for many miles -out of Lakeview we bowled along through a sagebrush -country with widely scattered habitations -and no sign of fellow-motorists. We followed a -huge irrigation aqueduct, evidently nearing completion, -for some distance and in one place, where -it is carried on a high trestle across a valley, the -road passes beneath it. The land looked fertile -enough and no doubt if the water supply is adequate -this irrigation project will change the -appearance of things in this section before many -years. We passed a pine-covered hill range with -heavy and stony grades before reaching Bly, the -first village, nearly fifty miles from Lakeview.</p> - -<p>This is a trading station of a dozen or two -buildings at the eastern boundary of the huge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span> -Klamath Indian Reservation. For several miles -we had been passing the noble red men with all -kinds of conveyances—on horseback, in lumber -wagons, spring wagons, carriages, and even two -or three automobiles. Most of them were well -dressed in civilized store clothes, usually with a -dash of color—a red bandanna or necktie or a -sporty hat band—and their horses and equipment -showed evidences of prosperity. Many -pleasantly saluted as they made way for us to -pass and, altogether, they seemed far removed -from the traditional painted savage of the old-time -wild and woolly West. The storekeeper at -Bly said they were coming from an Indian fair -and all were returning sober so far as we could -see. He said that many of them were well-to-do -cattlemen and farmers and that he depended on -them for most of his trade. We passed many -of their farm cottages beyond Bly and the lady -of our party, who had once been connected with -the Indian service, interviewed one of the women—we -were going to say “squaws” but it almost -seems inappropriate. She was accorded the most -courteous treatment by the occupants of the -little cabin; her queries were answered in good -English and she declared that everything about -the place was clean and well-ordered.</p> - -<p>“Going to Crater Lake—what for?” she was -asked. “We going to Crater Lake, too, next<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span> -week for huckleberries, much huckleberries, at -Crater Lake; Indians all go there.”</p> - -<p>Several miles of level though rough and -dusty road after leaving Bly brought us to another -heavily forested hill range with more steep -and stony grades. We paused under a big pine -to eat the lunch we had picked up in Lakeview, -congratulating ourselves on our foresight, for we -were hungry and the wayside inn is wanting on -this trail. We were truly in the wild at this -point. No railroad comes within fifty miles; the -nearest settler was many miles away—and that -settler a Klamath Indian. At the foot of the -long grade we came to a sluggish, green-tinted -stream—Lost River—which we followed nearly -to our destination. They call it Lost River since -it vanishes from sight in the vast marshes of Tule -Lake to the south.</p> - -<p>The last twelve miles out of Klamath Falls -were the most trying of a hard day’s run. The -road bed was hidden in a foot of flour-like white -limestone dust—deep enough to effectually hide -the unmerciful chuck-holes and to make driving -a blind chance. A snail’s pace—from the motorist’s -point of view—was enforced. A dense gray -dust cloud enveloped us and the stifling heat was -unrelieved by the fresh breeze that a sharp pace -always sets up. As if to make a test of the limits -of our endurance, we were compelled to work<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span> -our way through a herd of two thousand cattle -that were being driven along the road. We know -there were two thousand of them, for a local -paper next day made mention of this particular -herd and the number. Those who have tried to -pass a hundred cattle on a road fairly free from -dust can imagine what we endured; those who -have never passed cattle on a road can know -nothing about it. When we finally worked our -way out of the stifling dust cloud, it would have -been difficult to recognize the race or color of the -occupants of the car—we would surely have -passed for anything but members of the Caucasian -race. As we rolled on to the broad, -asphalted street leading into Klamath Falls, -dust begrimed, everything—our faces, clothing, -and baggage—was enveloped by a dirty gray -film. It covered the car from the radiator to tail -light—lay an inch deep on the running boards—and -fell in heavy flakes from the wheels.</p> - -<p>We had been assured of first-class accommodations -in the town, but were not expecting -such a splendid, metropolitan hotel as the White -Pelican; it seemed almost presumptuous for such -grimy, besmirched individuals as ourselves to -seek quarters in so cleanly and well-ordered a -place. We were reassured, however, by a sign -over the entrance, “Automobile togs are fashionable -at this hotel,” which seemed to indicate that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span> -others before us had been subject to similar misgivings -and needed a little assurance of welcome -on the part of the hotel people. In any event, -no insinuating remarks or even smiles greeted -our plight, and a light, airy, beautifully furnished -room was assigned us with a perfectly appointed -bath which afforded us every facility for removing -such Oregon real estate as still adhered to -our persons. Just how thorough our dust bath -had been was shown by the fact that some of -it penetrated our suit cases, though protected by -an outer trunk and an oilcloth covering—a thing -that had not previously happened during our -tour.</p> - -<p>After we had restored ourselves to the semblance -of respectability with a bath and change -of raiment, there was still time to walk about the -town before dinner. It is built mainly along a -broad, well-paved street and both public and private -buildings are rather better than usual in -towns of five thousand. The stores, shops, and -theaters are above the average, the school buildings -are handsome and substantial, and a new -courthouse of imposing, classic design was nearing -completion at a cost of a quarter of a million -dollars. The chief source of the apparent prosperity -of the town is the lumbering business with -a pay roll of more than one hundred thousand -dollars monthly. Klamath Falls is also the gateway<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span> -to Crater Lake, to which the tide of travel -is constantly increasing, and it lays claim itself -to being something of a summer resort. The -White Pelican Hotel, which, we were assured, -cost nearly four hundred thousand dollars, is -built over a mineral spring with a temperature -near the boiling point and waters closely resembling -Carlsbad in mineral constituents. -There are elaborate baths and a swimming pool -in connection with the hotel and its beautiful -appointments and excellent service make it a -delightful home for any who wish to take advantage -of the waters. Motorists will find the -White Pelican Garage, just across the street, -quite the equal of the hotel for excellent service -and up-to-date equipment. In fact, both hotel -and garage would do credit to a place ten times -the size of Klamath Falls. To be sure, Klamath -Falls expects to be a place of ten times its present -size in the somewhat indefinite future—several -railroad projects are now under way which, when -complete, will make accessible much more of the -thirty-one billion feet of standing timber in the -county and double the amount of productive irrigated -land. All of which seems to justify the -emphatic claims of the town’s Chamber of Commerce -that “Klamath Falls is bound to grow, -bound to grow on account of her great resources,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span> -timber, irrigated lands, water power, Nature’s -play ground (America’s Switzerland) and railroad -development!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="ip_81" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i105.jpg" width="378" height="502" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>CRATER LAKE</p> - -<p>From photo by Winter Photo Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="IV" class="vspace">IV<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE MARVELS OF CRATER LAKE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>We left Klamath Falls early in the morning -with high anticipation. Our destination was one -of the great objectives of our tour, for were we -not to see Crater Lake, which no competent -authority would omit from a list of the seven -greatest wonders of America, if not, indeed, of -the whole world? The run, every mile of the -way, is beautiful and inspiring, a fit introduction -to the grand climax that greets you at the end. -A few miles out of the town the road took us -to the shores of Klamath Lake, which we followed -to the northern extremity—a distance of -some twenty-five miles. While by no means a -perfect highway, we rejoiced to find it free from -the bottomless dust that strangled us when entering -the town—a few sandy stretches and a stony -spot here and there were only pleasant variations -compared with our experiences of the previous -clay.</p> - -<p>A short distance out of the town we passed -two immense sawmills on the lake shore where -the huge logs cut on the surrounding hills and -floated to the mills are converted into merchantable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span> -lumber. Great log-rafts could be seen -moored along the banks or being towed by little -steam tugs. A railroad closely following the -shore line gives outlet to the finished product. -Klamath Lake is now playing a similar part in -lumbering to that which Tahoe underwent thirty -years ago and we must confess that it does not -add to the beauty of the scene. Yet we realized -when we ascended the long grades which brought -us to splendid vantage points commanding practically -the whole lake, that Klamath was very -beautiful and picturesque—not the equal of -Tahoe, it is true, but a lake that would attract -many pilgrims on its own account were it not -overshadowed by more famous rivals.</p> - -<p>The day was rather dull and gave little -opportunity to judge what the play of color might -be under a bright, clear sky, but the lake is -shallow and probably the blue monotone that we -saw on Goose Lake would prevail under such -conditions. On the opposite side the purple hills -come up to the very shore and beyond them the -wooded crests stretch out in a vast panorama to -the blue haze of the horizon. Below us was an -extensive marsh covered with reeds through -which a monster steam dredge was eating its -way and rapidly converting the reed-covered -swamp into wonderfully fertile grain fields, some -of which were already bearing bountiful harvests.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span> -Between the main body of the lake and Pelican -Bay, an offshoot at the northern end, we crossed -Williamson River, a broad, clear, full-flowing -stream whose still surface was occasionally ruffled -by the breeze.</p> - -<p>Leaving the lake we sped onward over a -level and fairly good road winding through -meadows studded with pine trees and passing -Klamath Agency, the capital of the Indian Reservation. -Fort Klamath is a town of three hundred -people just outside the reservation. The -Indian trade and the outfitting and supplies required -by tourists make it a lively place during -the season—from July to September inclusive. -The principal resource of the roundabout country, -an obliging garage owner informed us, is -cattle raising, in which most of the people of the -town are interested directly or indirectly. It is -a wonderful grazing country, since the grass is -green the year round except when covered by -snow, and wild hay provides winter feed in -abundance.</p> - -<p>The road begins a steady ascent after leaving -Fort Klamath, rising over three thousand -feet in the twenty miles between the town and -Crater Lake Lodge on the rim of the lake. The -whole distance is through pine forests and the -road was only fair until we reached the confines -of the park. After entering the park we were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span> -delighted to find a splendid new road that might -almost be described as a boulevard had recently -been built by the government. It is wide, -smooth, and beautifully engineered and we were -told is to be hard surfaced in due time. It passes -some magnificent scenery, following for several -miles the canyon of Annie Creek, whose commonplace -name gives little suggestion of the stupendous -gorge through which the diminutive stream -dashes. It is a vast, precipitous chasm hundreds -of feet in depth, almost rivaling the canyon of -the Yellowstone in size, though it lacks the glorious -color of the latter. For eight miles the road -follows this gigantic gorge and from many points -we had glimpses of its pine-studded depths. At -one point it widens into the “Garden of the Gods” -with green meadows and sparkling waterfalls. -Along the sides of the canyon are curious formations—columns, -pinnacles, and weirdly carved -forms—all composed of igneous rock from which -the surrounding gravel has at some time been -washed away. Splendid pines border the road -throughout the park and most of the commoner -varieties of conifers are seen—red cedar, hemlock, -spruce, white pine, yellow pine, sugar pine, -Douglas, silver, and red firs, and other species—and -many varieties of deciduous trees are also -represented. There were some fine individual -specimens, but in the main the trees along the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span> -road were smaller, as though they might be a -second growth upon a burned area. Six or seven -miles after entering the park we came to the official -Crater Lake station, where Uncle Sam’s representative -issued the proper permits and -collected a moderate fee. While this necessary -business was being transacted, the lady of the -party was besieged by a score of hungry chipmunks -that came from crannies about the -ranger’s cabin, having learned that auto visitors -are likely to have some odd scraps of lunch about -their car.</p> - -<div id="ip_84" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i111.jpg" width="406" height="555" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE ROAD TO CRATER LAKE</p> - -<p>From photo by Kiser’s Studio, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>Just after leaving the station, we crossed -Annie Creek Canyon, passing Annie Spring -Camp on the opposite side, where tourists who -prefer the out-of-doors can secure a floored tent -and have access to a community dining room. -Here we began a steady three-mile ascent to -Crater Lake Lodge over the splendid new road -recently completed by the government. Despite -the rise of two or three hundred feet to the mile, -heavy grades and sharp turns are avoided and -there is room everywhere for easy passing. -Heavy forests skirted the road; only occasionally -was it possible to catch a panorama of rugged -peaks through a momentary opening in the -crowded ranks of somber pines.</p> - -<p>Near our destination we came into an open -space which revealed Crater Lake Lodge standing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span> -at the summit of a sharp incline. It is a -long, gray building of rustic design, the first story -of native stone with frame construction above. -It was not completed at the time of our visit, -which doubtless accounted for some of the shortcomings -that we noticed during our stay. Inside -there is a great rustic lounging room with an -immense fireplace capable of taking a six-foot -log—a very necessary convenience in a climate -where there is frost every month in the year.</p> - -<p>We were assigned a room fronting on the -lake and here it was that we had our first view -of this wonderful natural phenomenon. We had -resolved not to let our first impression be one of -piecemeal glimpses—we did not even look toward -the lake until we reached the splendid -vantage-point afforded from our open windows. -The lodge stands on an eminence nearly fifteen -hundred feet above the surface of the lake, commanding -almost the entire lake as well as much -of the surrounding country. My first impression -is recorded in our “log book” to the effect that “no -comparison seems to me so adequate as to imagine -a huge, flawless lapis lazuli set in a rugged -wall of variegated cliffs whose predominating -color is pale lavender.” We did not at first observe -the slight emerald ring running around the -shore—we forgot the play of light and shadow -over the still surface; our only thought and wonder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span> -was about the blue, the deepest, strangest, -loveliest blue we had ever seen in any body of -water; Tahoe, Como, Constance, are blue—bluer -than the clearest skies—but their blue is not that -of Crater Lake. Around it runs a jagged wall of -precipitous cliffs, ranging from five hundred to -two thousand feet in height and out beyond these -lay an endless array of majestic mountains dominated -by the spire-like peak of Mount Thielsen. -It is six miles to the opposite shore, but so clear -is the atmosphere that the wall comes out with -startling distinctness and the mountains beyond -stand wonderfully clear against the pale horizon. -The clouds, which overcast the sky when we left -Klamath, had vanished and we beheld the glorious -spectacle of lake and mountains in the full -splendor of the noonday sun.</p> - -<p>When our first shock of admiration and surprise -had softened a little, we observed details -more carefully. To the right was Wizard Island, -a cinder cone rising more than nine hundred feet -from the water—it did not appear so high to us. -It was covered with straggling pines and its -truncated top showed where the crater in the -strange island might be found. In front of the -hotel the slope from the rim was less precipitous -than elsewhere and we noticed a trail winding -down to the water’s edge—we learned later the -only practicable descent to the lake. At the foot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span> -of this trail there is a lovely green cove; we had -overlooked it in the overmastering impression of -blue that had seized us at first. Then we noticed -the faint emerald rim elsewhere along the shore, -where the cliffs were not so abrupt, and became -slowly aware that there was more of color variation -than we first imagined. A slight breeze -swept the surface and a ripple of silver ran across -the dark blue expanse. In the shadow of the -almost perpendicular cliffs, the blue deepened to -dark purple, while in the shallow bays and coves -around the shores it shaded into pale green.</p> - -<p>Our attention was diverted from the fascinating -scene by a call for dinner and we descended -to the dining-room, a huge apartment with finish -and wainscoating in rough pine bark. On one -side the windows commanded a view of Eagle -Cove and a large part of the lake and cliffs, while -on the other, down a vast canyon bounded by -mighty hills, on clear days one may see Klamath -Valley, with its shimmering lake fifty miles away, -and under especially favorable conditions the -gleaming pyramid of Mt. Shasta, one hundred -miles distant.</p> - -<p>The view, we agreed, was much better than -the meal, of which we have not the pleasantest -recollection, but we made some allowance for -confusion resultant on the incomplete state of the -hotel. Conditions should be better when everything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span> -is in order; with proper management, the -Lodge has in it the possibilities of a most delightful -resort during the season, which is usually -short—from July to October. On the year of -our visit the road was not open until August -first, snow being ten feet deep about the Lodge -on July fourth. One can not remain here after -October first without taking chances of being -shut in for the winter, sudden and heavy snowfalls -being probable at any time.</p> - -<p>After lunch we descended the trail leading -from the Lodge to Eagle Cove and took the -motor-launch trip around the lake. The descent -is more than a thousand feet straight down and -by the exceedingly devious trail must be many -times that distance. The downward trek was -strenuous and the return still more so; burros -are to be employed later for guests who dislike -to undertake the trip on foot. In many -places the trail was covered by huge snowbanks -which had lingered during the whole summer, -and these, with the mud and water, often made -considerable detours necessary. Time will come, -no doubt, when the trail will be improved and -made easier, but we found it an exceedingly hard -scramble for people unused to strenuous effort.</p> - -<p>From the launch one sees many aspects of -the lake not to be had from any viewpoint on the -rim. In the first place you become aware of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span> -marvelous clearness of the water, despite its -almost solid blue appearance from the shore. -They told us that a white object, such as an -ordinary dinner plate, for instance, could be -plainly seen at a depth of one hundred and fifty -feet. Fishermen can see the gamy rainbow -trout, the only variety found in the lake, sport -about the bait in the crystal water. One imagines -from the rim that a tumbler of the water dipped -from the lake would show a cerulean tint, but -it proves as colorless and clear as the air itself. -It follows that the contour of the bottom may be -seen in many places, though the great depth of -the water generally makes this impossible. The -deepest sounding made so far, 1996 feet, is declared -by authorities to be the record for any body -of fresh water.</p> - -<div id="ip_90" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i119.jpg" width="377" height="467" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SHIP ROCK, CRATER LAKE</p> - -<p>From painting by H. H. Bagg</p></div></div> - -<p>The surface was as placid as a mill pond -save for occasional ripples from the slight breeze. -Above us towered the steep cliffs and as we drew -nearer to them dashes of bright color—brilliant -yellows and reds—came out in the glowing sunlight. -Far above us the rugged outlines loomed -against the pale azure skies and only from beneath -can one get an adequate idea of the stupendous -height and expanse of these mighty -walls. From Eagle Cove we followed the southern -shore past Castle Crest, Garfield Peak and -Vidal Crest—the latter rising 1958 feet above the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span> -lake, the highest point on the rim and corresponding -strangely to the greatest known depth -of the water. Beyond these rises the sheer wall -of Dutton Cliff and just in front of it, cut off -by a deep but narrow channel, the weird outlines -of the Phantom Ship. The name does not seem -especially applicable to the solid, rocky pinnacles -that tower a hundred feet above the blue water, -roughly suggesting the outlines of an old double-masted -sailing ship, but they told us that under -certain conditions of light and shadow the rock -seemed to fade from sight against the background -of Dutton Cliff—a fact responsible for its -ghostly name. Though the rugged spires seem -almost vertical, they have been scaled by adventurous -climbers, a feat not likely to tempt the -average tourist.</p> - -<p>Perhaps a mile farther brought us opposite -Kerr Notch, the lowest point on the rim, and -some distance beyond this rose the stern outlines -of Sentinel Rock. Cloud Cap Bay lies almost -beneath the mountain of the same name, which -was later to afford us a vantage point for a -panorama of the whole lake and surrounding -country. The Wine Glass, which next engaged -our attention, is a queer slide of red sandstone -shaped like a huge goblet against the walls of -Grotto Cove. Round Top is a dome-shaped rock -rising above the Palisades, a precipice extending<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span> -from Grotto Cove to Cleetwood Cove, a distance -of nearly two miles. Near the latter point, geologists -declare, the last great flow of lava occurred, -evidenced by vast masses of black volcanic rock.</p> - -<p>Pumice Point, projecting sharply into the -lake, cuts Cleetwood Cove from Steel Bay, over -which towers the legend-haunted peak of Llao -Rock, rising nearly two thousand feet above the -water. Even to-day many Indians of the vicinity -regard Crater Lake with superstitious fears and -in olden times only their conjurors and medicine -men dared approach the silent shores of the -strange blue water. So it is not surprising that -some of their legends linger about it still and -that Llao Rock was reputed the home of a powerful -fiend who once held mysterious sway over the -region about the lake. His subjects were giant -crawfish whose practice was to seize in their cruel -claws any stranger who approached their haunts -and to drag him under the bottomless waters. -Llao and his retainers did not have everything -their own way, however, for Skell, a powerful -rival demon, dwelt in the fastnesses of Klamath -marshes far to the south and he waged deadly -and unrelenting war against the guardian of -Crater Lake. Llao, however, after ages of -struggle, marked by mighty feats of prowess and -enchantment, finally gained the advantage and -tore Skell’s heart from his body. To celebrate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span> -his victory he gave the reeking heart to his -followers, who played a savage ball game with it, -hurling it from mountain to mountain in their -glee. But Skell’s swift eagles seized their -master’s heart in mid-air and carried it to his -antelopes, who, with the speed of the wind, bore -it over the mountain ridges to his old haunts in -the Klamath marsh. There, wonderful to relate, -Skell’s body grew about the heart again and, -stronger than ever, he planned vengeance against -his victorious enemy. Lying in wait, he captured -Llao and to prevent any miraculous reincarnation -of his rival, the cunning Skell cut him into -shreds which he cast into the mysterious cauldron -of Crater Lake. The gluttonous crawfish imagined -that their master had demolished his rival -and feasted joyously upon the remains, only to -learn, when a few days later the head of Llao -was cast into the lake, that they had devoured -their chieftain. Perhaps they died of grief for -their unwitting offense, but be that as it may, -there are none of them to-day in the blue waters -of Crater Lake. But the head of Llao, the -Indians assert, is still in evidence to prove their -legend, though white men may call it Wizard -Island. Llao’s soul dwells in the rock bearing -his name and sometimes he ventures forth to stir -up a storm on the placid waters which were once -his own.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span> -But here is Wizard Island just before us, a -symmetrical cinder cone rising seven hundred -and sixty-three feet above the lake and covered -with a sparse growth of stunted pines. Geologists -tell a different story of its origin from the -wild legend we have just related, but surely it -is quite as wonderful. They say that ages ago -expiring volcanic forces pushed the island up -from the floor of the crater—and it was only one -of many miniature crater-mountains thus formed, -though all the others are hidden by the waters -of the lake. One may scramble up the steep slope -of the island and descend into the crater—a depression -one hundred feet deep by five hundred -in width. At its base the island is perhaps two-thirds -of a mile in diameter and it is separated -from the rim by a narrow channel which bears -the name of the victorious Skell of the Indian -legend. On the landward side of the island is -a black, rough lava bed and in one of its hollows -is a dark, sinister-looking tarn with the weird -name of Witches’ Pool. As some one has remarked, -we therefore have a crater within a -crater and a lake within a lake. Just opposite -the island rise the Watchman and Glacier Peak, -both of which exceed eight thousand feet in -height, and whose sides slope at a very sharp -angle down to the surface of the lake.</p> - -<p>Our starting point, just below the Lodge,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span> -is only a mile or two from Wizard Island, and -the entire round which we have described can -be made in from two to four hours, according to -the desire of the tourist. It is indeed a wonderful -trip and if I have written of it in only a -matter-of-fact way, it is because the temptation -to dwell on the exhaustless theme of its weird -beauty is likely to lead one to monotonous repetition. -No one can satisfactorily describe Crater -Lake or adequately express in words the subtle -atmosphere of mystery and romance that hovers -about it; one can only hope to convey enough of -these things to his reader to induce him to make -a personal pilgrimage to this strange and inspiring -phenomenon of nature.</p> - -<p>The ascent of the trail from the lake to the -Lodge was less strenuous than we expected and -they told us there was still time to drive over the -new road to the summit of the Watchman, about -four miles distant. It is a fine, well-engineered -road, but in the main keeps away from the rim -and presents vistas of endless mountains rather -than of the lake. We were not able to reach -our goal, for the road was closed about three -miles from the Lodge on account of blasting. -We turned about with some difficulty and as we -retraced our way to the inn we had a superb view -of the setting sun across the long array of wooded -crests that stretch southward toward Klamath<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span> -Lake. At Victor Rock, a short distance from the -Lodge, we left the car and sought this splendid -vantage point to view the lake at sunset. It was -disappointing, if anything about Crater Lake -could be disappointing, for the sun’s rays did not -reach the surface as he sank behind the hills in -the southwest. Only a deeper, duller blue settled -over the placid water, relieved a little later by -the reflection of a full moon. The sense of mystery, -however, that is never absent when one -views this strange “sea of silence” was deepened -when the blue shadows of twilight settled over it -and began a ghostly struggle with the pale moonbeams. -Verily, you shudder and wonder if there -is not some real foundation for these legends of -the haunting spirits of Llao and Skell and perhaps—but -the glowing windows of the Lodge -reminded us that dinner time was at hand, something -of more vital interest than speculations -about ghosts and demons.</p> - -<div id="ip_96" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i127.jpg" width="401" height="554" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>WIZARD ISLAND FROM GARFIELD PEAK</p> - -<p>Copyright by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>A great fire of pine logs was blazing in the -huge fireplace and it was grateful, indeed, -for there were strong indications of frost in the -air. “Better drain your radiator,” was the admonition -to our driver, who had garaged the car -under a group of huge pines a little distance from -the Lodge—no other shelter being ready—but -with his usual carefulness he had already anticipated -the suggested precaution. After lunch the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span> -guests crowded about the fire, reading the day-old -newspapers or discussing the various roads -over which they had come, there being several -other motor parties besides ourselves. A fisherman -entered, but the only result of his five-hour -cruise was a fine rainbow trout, weighing perhaps -six pounds. This started talk about piscatorial -matters and we learned that originally -there were no fish of any kind in the lake. The -principal life was a small crustacean which is -found in vast numbers and is probably the basis -of the big crawfish story in the legend of Llao -and Skell. Mr. U. G. Steele, some thirty years -ago, first stocked the lake with young rainbow -trout which have thriven greatly, for now the -fish are present in large numbers and many have -been taken weighing as much as ten pounds. -The fish are caught by fishing from vantage -points on the shore or by trolling from rowboats. -They are usually quick to take the hook and for -their size are exceedingly game fighters. A day’s -limit is five, which is quickly reached early in the -season. So clear is the water that the angler -can watch every move of his quarry from the -moment it takes the bait until it is finally -“landed.”</p> - -<p>Naturally, we were curious to know of the -origin, the discovery, and the geology of Crater -Lake, and soon learned that Uncle Sam has anticipated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span> -this curiosity and has issued through the -Department of the Interior a number of illustrated -booklets and maps which are obtainable -at the Lodge. A better plan, no doubt, would be -to obtain these and other literature in advance of -the trip, but this we had neglected. With this -assistance, a few minutes enabled us to learn -much of the strange lake and region we were -visiting.</p> - -<p>The name itself is suggestive of the lake’s -origin. Ages ago, probably before higher animal -life had appeared on the earth, there was a period -of intense volcanic activity on the western coast -of North America. A vast range of fire mountains -extended from Mount Baker in Washington -to Mount Lassen in California and all of them -at one time were active volcanos higher and -more terrible than Mount Vesuvius ever was. -Among these were Mount Ranier, Mount St. -Helens, Mount Adams, Mount Hood, Mount -Jefferson, the Three Sisters, Mount McLoughlin, -Mount Shasta, and Mount Lassen, of which only -the last still shows volcanic activity. Mightier -than any of these was the gigantic peak which -stood on the site of Crater Lake and which has -been called Mount Mazama in honor of the -Alpine Club of that name in Portland, whose -investigations have contributed much to our -knowledge of this region. It must have exceeded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span> -fifteen thousand feet in height, overtopping every -other peak on the North American continent, and -what ages it stood, a sentinel of fire and snow -with no human eye to see its awful majesty, we -can not know, but it must have been for many -thousands of years. Nor can we know with anything -like exactness when some vast and almost -unthinkable convulsion of nature tore this mighty -mountain from its seat and leveled its proud bulk -far below the lesser rivals that surrounded it. -Nor can we be certain of the exact nature of the -disaster that overtook it; whether it gradually -disappeared through long ages or as the result -of some sudden and awful convulsion is now only -a matter of conjecture, though scientific opinion -inclines to the latter view. The theory is that -terrific internal forces burst through the slopes -of the mountain well down its gigantic sides and -that the shell, weakened by loss of the molten -core, collapsed inwardly and was fused in the -white hot lavas. This theory requires the -assumption that much of the debris escaped in -the shape of gases, leaving the vast pit where the -lake now lies.</p> - -<p>More generally accepted is the theory of a -sudden and terrific explosion which scattered the -mountain top broadcast for hundreds of miles -around, a fate that overtook the volcano -Krakatoa in the South Pacific. In succeeding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span> -ages the fiery crater gradually cooled and was -finally filled with water from the heavy snows -that fall in this region. The lake has no other -source of supply and no visible outlet, but since -precipitation exceeds any possible evaporation, -there must be some subterranean channel by -which the water escapes; otherwise the lake -would eventually fill to the level of the lowest -point of the rim. That all volcanic action has -long since ceased is proven by the fact that at -a depth of three hundred feet the temperature -remains the whole year round only seven degrees -above the freezing point.</p> - -<p>Such, in rough outline, is the geologic story -of this weird region and mysterious lake. When -one considers it as he floats on the steel-blue -water, it gives rise to strange thoughts and sensations—here, -where you drift and dream, laving -your hand in the clear, cold water, once raged an -inferno of flame so fierce that solid rock fused -and flowed like burning oil. A full mile above -the highest skyline of the gigantic encircling -cliffs once towered a stupendous peak which has -vanished as utterly as if it had never existed. -Was it all the result of some mysterious sequence -of accidents or did some Power plan and direct -it all to obtain this</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span></p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Fantastic beauty—such as lurks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In some wild poet when he works<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without a conscience or an aim?”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The first white man to stumble upon this -astounding spectacle was John W. Wellman, who -led an exploring party to this region in 1853. -They were searching for a certain Lost Cabin -gold mine which proved as mythical as DeLeon’s -Fountain of Youth. No gold did they discover -in these giant hills, but they gave the world something -better than gold in bringing to light one -of the supremest of natural wonders. Not the -slightest premonition did they have of their -wonderful find.</p> - -<p>“We suddenly came in sight of water,” declares -Wellman, “and were much surprised, as -we did not expect to see any lakes in this vicinity. -Not until my mule stopped within a few feet of -the rim did I look down and I believe if I had -been riding a blind mule I would have gone over -the edge to my death.”</p> - -<p>The discoverers had a lively dispute over a -name for the lake and finally decided to settle -by vote whether it should be called Mysterious -Lake or Deep Blue Lake. The latter name won, -but in 1869 a visiting party from Jacksonville renamed -it Crater Lake, which now seems obviously -the logical title.</p> - -<p>It was not until 1902 that Crater Lake<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span> -National Park was created by an Act of Congress. -This comprises in all two hundred and -forty-nine square miles which include many -beautiful and interesting natural phenomena besides -the lake itself. Several of these one may -see when entering and leaving the park and -others may be reached by special trips from the -Lodge. Many of the mountain peaks in the vicinity -may be scaled on muleback over safe and -fairly easy trails. Union Peak, about eight miles -south of Crater Lake, is one of the favorite trail -trips. This is peculiar in that it is not a cinder -cone like most of its neighbors, but the solid core -of an extinct volcano—a very steep, conical -mountain 7689 feet high. Scott Peak, three miles -east of the lake, is the highest point in the vicinity, -8938 feet, and overlooks Cloud Cap, which -the new government road ascends. Mount -Thielsen, 9250 feet, the spire-like peak twelve -miles to the north, may also be reached by a trail, -passing beautiful Diamond Lake, a favorite spot -for campers.</p> - -<div id="ip_102" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i135.jpg" width="402" height="555" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>CRATER LAKE—WIZARD ISLAND IN DISTANCE</p> - -<p>From photo by Kiser’s Studio, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>The greater number of visitors come to the -park by the automobile stages, which run regularly -on alternate days during the season from -Medford, on the main line of the Southern Pacific -in Oregon, and from Klamath Falls over the -route covered by ourselves. The former route, -known as the Rogue River road, follows the river<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span> -of that name through a wonderfully picturesque -mountain country. Out of Medford for a good -many miles the route passes through a prosperous -fruit-farming country, where the famous -Rogue River apples are produced. The highway -climbs gradually out of the valley into the foothills -and as it leads up the gorge of the river, -the scenery constantly takes on a wilder aspect, -culminating in the virgin wilderness where -thunder the Great Falls of the Rogue. The -Indians of this section had a strange custom with -reference to these falls, for it was agreed that no -brave of the Klamath, Shasta, or Rogue River -tribes should ever approach within sound of the -roaring waters. A little farther up the river is -a natural lava bridge one hundred feet in length. -At Prospect, the only station on the road, luncheon -is served and then the ascent to the crest of -the Cascade is begun. The road is edged with -giant evergreens, for here is one of the greatest -yellow pine forests in the world, though other -varieties of conifers are also common. Steadily, -the road climbs upward, winding along the steep -slopes of the Cascades and affording wide views -in every direction over densely wooded highlands. -About twenty miles from the lake the -road leaves the river and turns into Castle Creek -Canyon. Crossing the western boundary of the -park, the ascent becomes steeper and steeper<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span> -until the summit is attained, from which, like a -great blue jewel in a sunken setting, the tourist -gets his first vision of Crater Lake. The road -is usually very rough and dusty, especially late -in the season; plans are now under way for its -improvement, though the early accomplishment -of the work can hardly be hoped for.</p> - -<p>The Klamath Falls road, which was the -route pursued by ourselves, averages better and -is fully as picturesque. The usual plan is to come -by the Medford road and leave by Klamath Falls, -where the tourist may take the Shasta branch -of the Southern Pacific for Weed on the main -line. The stages do not run beyond Klamath -Falls.</p> - -<p>A third route known as the Dead Indian -Road leaves the Pacific Highway at Ashland and -joins the Klamath Falls route at Fort Klamath. -The altitudes traversed by this road average -lower than the others, generally less than five -thousand feet. It passes within a few miles of -Mount McLoughlin, the highest peak of the entire -region, and skirts Pelican Bay at the extreme -northern end of the main body of Klamath Lake. -Here E. H. Harriman, the late railroad magnate, -built a summer home which has now become a -station on the road known as Harriman Lodge. -It is a singularly wild and beautiful section and -Pelican Bay is the most famous fishing “ground”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span> -in Oregon. Only a few tourists, however, come -by this route, as the condition of the road is -usually poor and the distance is greater than -either of the alternate routes. In describing the -routes by which the lake may be reached, I am -writing only from the motorist’s point of view. -Those who prefer to come by train will probably -find it cheaper and more expeditious to go to -Fort Klamath and take the stage to Crater Lake -Lodge.</p> - -<p>While I was ascertaining the data which I -have just been transcribing, the guests had -gradually retired to their rooms and we soon -followed suit. Despite the very crisp air—there -is no heat in the guest rooms of Crater Lake -Lodge—we threw open our windows and contemplated -the weird beauty of the lake by the -light of a full moon. Color had given way to -dull, mysterious monotone—the lake had become -an ebon mirror reflecting the moon and stars in -its sullen deeps. And such starlight I never saw -elsewhere. The stars flamed and corruscated -like diamonds and the lake reflected them in -almost undiminished luster, lending a weird -splendor to the scene. We were back at our posts -at the windows to watch sunrise on the lake, -but it was distinctly disappointing. We saw -only a sheet of dull silver which gradually -changed to blue as the sun rose over the rim.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span> -Possibly at other seasons, under different conditions, -sunrise on Crater Lake may be a spectacle -worth shivering in the frosty air to witness, but -we agreed that the scene is far more inspiring -when viewed by starlight.</p> - -<p>There was a great spitting and sputtering -of motors out under the pines as we descended -the stairs, for the very crisp weather made starting -no easy task, and when we left the Lodge -an hour later, one or two of the refractory -engines were still resisting every effort to set -them going. Taking on a supply of forty-five-cent -gasoline and pausing for one last look at the -blue wonder-water before us, we glided down the -little vale into the pines. We followed the road -by which we came for a short distance until we -reached the Sand Creek “cut off” which enabled -us to regain the main road to Bend without -returning to Fort Klamath. It also gave us the -opportunity to ascend the new government road -to the summit of Cloud Cap, an experience that -we prize more than any other at Crater Lake. -The road is part of the new highway which is -ultimately to complete the circuit of the lake, a -distance in all of thirty-eight miles. This road -is about half finished at the present time, extending -from the summit of Cloud Cap on the east -to the peak of the Watchman on the west. It -is being built with moderate grades and wide<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span> -turns, broad enough everywhere for easy passing. -It does not closely follow the lake at all points—that -would be hardly possible and certainly not -desirable. One of the delightful features of the -road is the disappearance of the lake when one -turns into the hills and its reappearance in new -and often surprising aspects as various vantage -points overlooking it are reached. It strikes the -senses differently and more forcefully after the -change afforded by a few minutes in the wooded -hills. The distance from the Lodge to Sand -Creek Canyon is about seven miles; here the -road branches off to Kerr Notch on the rim, four -or five miles farther, at which point the ascent -of Cloud Cap begins. A splendid new road—it -almost deserves the much-abused term “boulevard”—climbs -to the summit in long, sweeping -grades ranging from five to twelve per cent, yet -so smooth and splendidly engineered as to require -only high-gear work for a moderately -powered car.</p> - -<p>I have already described our impressions of -the marvels of Crater Lake to the best of my -ability and I can only say that the series of vistas -presented in our ascent of Cloud Cap were far -beyond any we had yet witnessed. In sheer magnificence, -in inspiring beauty and in overwhelming -mystery—never absent in any view of Crater -Lake—I have seen little else that could compare<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span> -with the seven-mile run. At times we caught -only glimpses of the blue water and mighty cliffs -through a group of trees; then we came out upon -some bold headland where the lake lay shimmering -beneath our gaze with an endless panorama -of cliffs and peaks beyond. But the crowning -spectacle greeted us from the summit, where -from an elevation of two thousand feet above -the surface our vision covered almost the entire -lake and the greater part of its rugged shore line -with an almost unlimited sweep over the surrounding -country. Here a new and strange color -aspect entranced us—the main body of the water -took on a deep purple hue, fading into violet and -blue with faint streakings of emerald green near -the shores. Light lavender was the prevailing -color tone of the encircling cliffs in the floods of -morning sunlight, while dark blues prevailed -where the shadows fell. Out beyond stretched -the densely wooded hills with here and there a -commanding peak on which snow flecks still -lingered. Looking down the slope which we had -ascended, we saw Lake Klamath in the far distance, -shining silver-bright in its setting of forest -and marsh and beyond it endless hills which were -gradually lost in a purple haze.</p> - -<div id="ip_108" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i143.jpg" width="402" height="553" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>LLAO ROCK, CRATER LAKE</p> - -<p>Copyright by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>It was a panorama that held us for some -time, despite the fact that our run for the day -was to be a long one, over roads for which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span> -no one had spoken a good word. Reluctantly -and lingeringly we gave the word to depart. I -find in my “log book” set down on the spot: “One -of the most glorious and inspiring drives in all -our experience and all that its most enthusiastic -admirer has ever claimed for it”—a judgment we -are still willing to let stand. Soberly the big car -retraced its way down the long slopes and we -soon bade farewell to Crater Lake, wondering -hopefully if we should not some time have the -joy of seeing its weird beauty again. A few miles -through dense forests brought us to the eastern -limit of the park, where we surrendered our permit -to Uncle Sam’s representative and struck the -dusty trail to Bend, our destination for the night—about -one hundred and twenty miles distant -from the confines of the park.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="V" class="vspace">V<br /> - -<span class="subhead">CRATER LAKE TO THE DALLES</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>On leaving Crater Lake Lodge we were admonished -not to miss the Sand Creek Canyon -Pinnacles, which we would pass just outside the -park. Sand Creek Canyon is a vast ravine several -hundred feet in depth with walls so steep that -only an experienced mountain climber would -dare attempt the descent. At a point nearly opposite -the eastern boundary of Crater Lake Park, -a multitude of slender sculptured spires ranging -up to two hundred feet in height rise from the -sides and bottom of the tremendous chasm. -These weird gray needles of stone are cores of -lava rock left standing after the surrounding sand -and silt had been carried away by the floods -which cut this mighty chasm in the sandy plain -of Central Oregon. A sign, “The Pinnacles,” -apprised us of our proximity to these curious -natural phenomena; they are not visible from the -road, being hidden in the depths of the canyon. -They seem strange and uncanny in the noonday -sun and we wondered how weird and awe-inspiring -they must appear when the pale moonlight -filters into the deeps of the great gulch. At the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span> -bottom of the canyon a clear stream dashes -through a fringe of good-sized pines with here -and there a little green paddock. In one of these -we saw the only wild animal life—except small -birds and chipmunks—since we had left Reno. -A doe eyed us timorously and then slipped into -the cover of the trees. They told us that there -were many deer in this region but they are chary -of appearing along the main-traveled roads.</p> - -<div id="ip_110" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i147.jpg" width="403" height="550" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SAND CREEK CANYON PINNACLES</p> - -<p>Copyright by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>For many miles after leaving Crater Lake -we pursued a natural dirt road, innocent of any -attempt at improvement save an occasional log -culvert or bridge over a dry gully or small -stream. It was fair, however, except for occasional -sandy spots and at times good speed was -possible over its long, level stretches, for there is -scarcely a five per cent grade between the park -and Bend. Nearly the whole distance it runs -through forests, chiefly the worthless lodge-pole -or “Jack” pine, which grow almost as thickly as -they can stand. One wonders that they have -escaped the fires of whose deadly work we so -frequently saw distressing evidences among the -more valuable varieties of evergreens. We ran -through these uninteresting trees for more than -fifty miles without a single village or even ranch -house to break the monotony. It was as wild -and lonely a country as we had so far traversed -and yet in a little shack by the road we passed a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span> -station of the Bell Telephone Company—a reminder -of the wonderful ramifications of the -wires of this great organization. No railroad -had as yet penetrated this wilderness but one -from Klamath Falls to Bend was projected, -which will open up a vast territory to farming -and stock-raising. Even now there are many -cattle in this country and we frequently saw notices -referring to stock ranges posted on the -trees. Sheep are also common and in one place -we passed a drove of many thousands of them.</p> - -<p>Crescent, about seventy miles from Fort -Klamath, the only village on the road, has a -dozen scattering houses, a store or two, the omnipresent -sheet-iron garage, and a big wooden -hotel. For some distance about the town the -Jack pines were being cleared and preparations -made to till the land, though little had actually -been done as yet in the way of producing crops. -Beyond Crescent we followed the course of the -Deschutes River to Bend, a distance of nearly -fifty miles. The river here was only an ordinary -stream and gave little hint of the stupendous -scenery that skirts it beyond Bend. On our left, -beyond the river, ran the main range of the Cascades -and a little ahead rose the snow-clad peaks -of the Three Sisters and Mount Jefferson. A few -miles from Bend we came into a region once the -seat of great volcanic activity. Here we passed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span> -Black Butte, a great conical hill of volcanic rock -about which lie huge ridges of black lava with -edges as sharp as broken glass.</p> - -<div id="ip_112" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i151.jpg" width="551" height="401" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE THREE SISTERS, DESCHUTES CANYON</p> - -<p>Copyright by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>On entering Crook County, about thirty-five -miles from Bend, it became evident that improved -highways were to be the order of the day in this -section, but said improvement had not progressed -far enough to be of any benefit to us. A wide, -straight road had been graded through the giant -pines that cover this section, but no rain had -fallen since the work was completed and the new -“highway” was a wallow of bottomless yellow -dust which concealed myriads of distressing -chuck-holes. After trying the new road for a -little while, we again sought the old, meandering -trail and stuck to it as far as possible. However, -for a good many miles there was no alternative -and we plunged along, leaving a blinding dust-cloud -behind us—a fine, alluvial dust that -hovered in the air many minutes after we had -passed. Fortunately for us, the road was clear -ahead and if anyone was behind us he has our -unstinted commiseration. We did not go scot-free -ourselves by any means, for it was quite impossible -to get away from the dust which the -front wheels stirred up and it soon covered the -car and its occupants with a yellow film. Nearer -Bend the road improved somewhat and no doubt -after the grades have been thoroughly settled by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span> -the rains, they will be smoothed and perhaps -surfaced, in which case the road would be unsurpassed, -as it is quite level and straightaway.</p> - -<p>Much active lumbering is being done about -Bend, and the fine yellow pines through which -we passed were being slaughtered at a terrific -rate. Temporary railroads were laid among the -trees and logging engines were hauling trains -loaded with the mighty boles that had fallen victim -to the ax—or, more properly, the saw, which -is generally used in felling these big trees. We -learned later that this industry is chiefly responsible -for the surprise which we experienced on -arriving at Bend. The 1910 census listed the -town’s population at five hundred and we were -wondering if we could hope for decent accommodations -in a village of that size located in a comparative -wilderness. It was an agreeable surprise, -therefore, to find a town of four or five -thousand inhabitants with many evidences of progressiveness -and prosperity. True, a good deal -of the straggling old village was still in evidence, -but the fine new buildings in course of construction -made it clear that such structures would -soon elbow the ragged old wooden shacks out of -existence. A beautiful bank building that would -grace the main street of a city of fifty thousand -was under way, as was also a fine mercantile<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span> -building of white glazed brick with white tile -trimming.</p> - -<p>Our hotel proved rather better than we expected -from its outward appearance, though our -room was somewhat dingy and a private bath -was not to be had. The meal service, however, -was excellent. We remarked that Bend would -afford a fine opening for a new and really modern -hotel and only a few days later I read in a Portland -paper that such an enterprise had actually -been begun by a local company. The Deschutes -River, a clear, swift stream, runs through the -town and the new inn will have an ideal location -on its banks. Bend’s prosperity is, of course, -due to lumbering—one great saw mill employing -a thousand men. So vast are the yellow pine -tracts about the town that it will be long before -this resource fails. Farming and stock raising -are also being carried on to a considerable extent -in the vicinity and these industries are bound to -grow in importance in such a fertile and well-watered -section.</p> - -<p>Another factor contributing to the activity -of Bend may be found in the numerous auto-stage -lines that radiate from the town. It is the -terminus of the railroad from the north and passengers’ -mail and freight for the interior towns -to the south and west are largely transferred by -automobile. Here they talk of jumps of fifty to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span> -two hundred miles in a day much as a San Francisco -commuter might speak of a trip to Oakland -or Berkeley. The auto-stage agency in our hotel -was in charge of a dapper, effervescent little fellow -whose nationality we might have guessed -even if he had not advertised himself as -“Frenchy” on the card which he obsequiously -offered us. We had no need of “automobile -transportation” so we did the next best thing and -patronized a boot-blacking stand which this same -expatriated Frenchman was running—we were -going to say “on the side,” though it may have -been his main business, for that matter. While -with the touch of an artist he put a mirror finish -on our pedal extremities, he told us with a good -deal of pride that his son was in the trenches -somewhere in France, fighting to expel the invaders.</p> - -<p>Bend, though much the largest town in the -county, is not the county seat. This is at Prineville, -forty miles to the northeast and nearly the -same distance from the railroad. The logical -thing would appear to be to move the county -capital to Bend within the next few years. Taken -altogether, Bend seems to be a town with an assured -future and one where moderate fortunes -are likely to be made.</p> - -<div id="ip_116" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i157.jpg" width="552" height="403" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE DESCHUTES NEAR NORTH JUNCTION</p> - -<p>Copyright by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>Leaving Bend for the north early the next -morning, we followed the Deschutes River for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span> -several miles, crossing it three or four times. It -is an extraordinarily beautiful stream, broad, -clear, swift, and so shallow that the mossy boulders -over which it dashes are clearly visible and -a keen eye can often detect brightly tinted trout -darting among them. Our road kept near the -river for a great part of the day and in places we -were fairly overawed by the wild and stupendous -scenery of the vast canyon through which it -courses. Some one has called it the Grand Canyon -of the Northwest, and we who have seen -the Arizona Wonderland can not feel that such a -characterization is altogether far-fetched. Perhaps -the element of complete surprise may have -tended to give us a somewhat exaggerated impression, -for we never had the slightest hint of -what we were to see. We went to the Grand -Canyon of Arizona expecting much and were not -disappointed; we ran unawares upon the Grand -Canyon of the Deschutes and our amazement -may have warped our judgment to some extent. -Still, I find reference to this very region in a recent -book by a well-posted Oregonian who declares -it “the most stupendously appealing river -scenery in all the Northwest—this same Canyon -of the Deschutes,” and remember that this same -Northwest is the country where “rolls the Oregon,” -commonly known as the Columbia, in all -its majesty. At one point, not so very far from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span> -Bend, was the scenery especially overwhelming -in its grandeur. I wish I might adequately -describe it, but I doubt if any printed page could -ever convey a true idea of such a spectacle. I -can only hope to direct attention of the tourist -to this almost unknown wonder of America and -to assure him that he will never regret a trip -between Bend and The Dalles, which may be -made by either motor or rail. In fact, the railroad -follows the bottom of the canyon and in many -ways affords better opportunities to view the -scenery than does the wagon road.</p> - -<p>The canyon at the point of which I speak is -a vast, rugged chasm many hundreds of feet in -width and perhaps a thousand in depth, with -precipitous, rocky walls almost as gorgeously -colored as those of the Grand Canyon itself. At -the bottom dashes the vexed river—a writhing -thread of emerald—as though it were in mad -haste to escape from such deadly turmoil. Our -road ascended to a vantage point where we could -look for miles down the valley over a panorama -of weird peaks whose crests were surmounted -with a multitude of fanciful shapes, pinnacles, -domes, and strange, outlandish figures in stone -which the imagination might fitly liken to a -thousand things. Near at hand the hills seemed -harsh and forbidding, but in the distance their -drab colors and rugged outlines were softened by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span> -a violet haze that transmuted their sternness into -ethereal beauty. The center of the plain skirted -by these weird hills was rent by the vast chasm of -the river canyon, its sides splashed with gorgeous -colorings. Against the silvery horizon to the -westward ran the serrated summits of the Cascades, -dominated by the cold white peaks of the -Three Sisters and, farther still, in lone and awful -grandeur, the vast white cone of Mount Hood. -And this same glorious mountain dominated our -vision at intervals during the entire day until we -saw it stand in crowning beauty against the wide, -crimson band of the sunset.</p> - -<p>Our road soon left the river canyon, though -we coursed through the Deschutes Valley the -greater part of the day. The road varied greatly -from fair alluvial dirt surface through great -wheatfields to a wretched stony trail that wound -around precipices, forded rock-bottomed streams -and climbed over rugged hills. For a considerable -distance we followed a stream at the bottom -of a canyon, fording it several times over a trail -so primitive and neglected that at times it was -difficult to find it at all, but there was no danger -of going astray—no one could climb the precipitous -walls that shut us in.</p> - -<p>Coming out of the canyon we crossed a hill -range into a beautiful little valley dotted with -several prosperous-looking ranch houses. In<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span> -front of one of these, under the shade of the immense -Lombardy poplars that surrounded it, we -paused for our mid-day lunch. About the house -was a beautifully kept lawn which the owner was -watering at the time. He told us that there was -plenty of water for irrigating in the valley if the -rains happened to be too scant and a big yield -was always sure from the wonderfully fertile soil. -A small field—about thirty acres—near his house -had just yielded over two thousand bushels of -prime barley and other crops were in like proportion. -Fruit trees thrive, as was evidenced by -several heavily laden pear trees near the house. -The greatest drawback was distance from the -railroad and poor wagon roads, making transportation -very difficult. This was best overcome by -feeding the products of the farm to cattle, which -could carry their own carcases to a shipping -point.</p> - -<p>Our road swung still farther from the Deschutes -River; we crossed one rugged hill range -after another with the inevitable cultivated valley -between. The upland plains had been tilled in -spots and the irregular yellow patches where the -wheat had just been harvested gave a curious -effect to the distant hilltops. Evidently much of -the soil was not tillable—probably due to volcanic -ash—which accounted for the irregularity -and scattered aspect of the wheatfields. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span> -heavy wagons carrying the wheat to market had -wrought havoc with the roads, which were full -of chuck-holes and distressingly dusty.</p> - -<div id="ip_120" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i163.jpg" width="556" height="402" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>OVERLOOKING DESCHUTES CANYON, MT. JEFFERSON</p> - -<p>Copyright by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>Upon one of the highest and bleakest of the -hill ranges, we came into the village of Shaniko—our -first town in nearly a hundred miles—a -place of three or four hundred people. It is, -however, one of the oldest settlements of this -section and until a few years ago a great staging -center for freight and passengers from The -Dalles. The coming of the Columbia Southern -Railroad, of which Shaniko is the terminus, -changed all this and led to the rapid settlement -of the surrounding country, which now produces -wheat in considerable quantities. In spite of the -dignity thrust upon it by being made the terminus -of a railroad, Shaniko is a forlorn-looking -place, bleak and dusty, with a half-dozen stores -and the inevitable hotel—a huge, red-brick structure -seemingly out of all proportion to the probable -needs of the town. The garage was deserted -and it was with some difficulty that we located -the owner to replenish our gasoline supply. He -directed us to proceed by way of Maupin, Tygh -Valley, and Dufur, to The Dalles, rather than -follow the railway line.</p> - -<p>For twenty-five miles out of the town we ran -through the huge, rounded hills, curiously -mottled with the irregular golden patches of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span> -wheatfields against the reddish brown soil. At -Maupin we came back to the Deschutes, here a -lordly river, spanned by a long, high bridge which -afforded fine views of stream and canyon in both -directions. Here again we were directed to take -the new Tygh Valley road and had more reasons -than one to be glad that we did, for we saw some -splendid canyon scenery and a wonderfully engineered -road through the hills. A few miles from -Maupin we entered Tygh Valley Canyon. A -long, steep, and very rough grade led downward -between the stupendous walls of shattered igneous -rock—red and dull brown, splashed with -spots of golden yellow. The sides were rugged -in the extreme, and barren except for a few scrub -cedars which clung precariously to the steep -slopes. At the bottom of the canyon many varieties -of trees flourished and here and there were -green paddocks.</p> - -<p>In one of the greenest of these nooks, at the -point where the road reaches the floor of the canyon, -is the village of Tygh Valley, as snug and -sheltered as Shaniko was bleak and windswept. -There was a picturesque little church with a tall -spire and the place seemed reminiscent of New -England rather than the far west.</p> - -<div id="ip_122" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i167.jpg" width="553" height="403" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>MT. HOOD FROM TYGH VALLEY</p> - -<p>Copyright by The Winter Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>“And what is the most distinctive thing -about Tygh Valley?” we later asked a friend who -frequently visits the town and he as promptly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span> -answered, “Rattlesnakes; the canyon is one of -the greatest habitats of this interesting reptile -in the whole country. The last time I was there -a local character who makes a practice of hunting -the snakes had just come in with the carcases -of forty-five of them, which he was proudly displaying -on the street. He makes a good revenue -from the oil, which is in great demand, and the -skins are worth from fifty cents to a dollar each. -The snake hunter once started to breed the reptiles -to increase his gains but the citizens objected. -They thought there were quite enough -rattlesnakes in the canyon without raising them -artificially. Since then the hunter has confined -himself to catching the denizens of the wild and -is doing Tygh Valley a good service in reducing -the number of the pests.”</p> - -<p>We ourselves, however, saw nothing of the -valley’s aboriginal inhabitants, though we might -have looked more closely for them had we known -of their presence.</p> - -<p>Almost immediately after leaving the town -we began our climb out of the canyon, ascending -one of the longest grades that we found in all our -wanderings. This road is a wonderful piece of -engineering, swinging its wide ribbon in long -loops around and over the giant hills and affording -some awe-inspiring vistas of barren summits -and wooded canyons. It is a road of thrills for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span> -the nervously inclined, for in places at its sides -the slopes drop almost sheer for a thousand feet -or more and there are many abrupt turns around -cliff-like headlands. But for all that it is an easy -road, smooth, fairly free from dust, and with no -rise greater than seven or eight per cent. May -they do more road work of this kind in Oregon!</p> - -<p>At the summit we paused and caught our -breath at the panorama that suddenly broke on -our vision. An endless sea of blue mountains -stretched out to meet the sunset and dominating -them all rose the awful bulk of Mount Hood, -sharply silhouetted against a wide stretch of -crimson sky. There was something awful and -overpowering in its lonely, inaccessible majesty—the -sunset and the mystery of the blue shadows -that enveloped its feet gave it something more -than the fascination which the lone snow-covered -mountain ever has for the beholder—its relative -isolation from other peaks giving it an added -grandeur and individuality. Mount Hood, for -example, with an altitude of 11200 feet, is far -more impressive than Mount Whitney, the culminating -peak of a range, though its actual -height is 3300 feet greater.</p> - -<p>And so, as we contemplated this mystery -mountain looming in lonely majesty in the fading -twilight, we could not wonder that Indian myth -and legend made it the subject of many a weird<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span> -tale. It dominated the western horizon during -the remainder of our run except at short intervals -and presented many fascinating changes of -color and light ere it faded away in the darkness. -From a hilltop several miles out of The Dalles -we caught our first glimpse of the Columbia in -its mad dash through the narrow straits that give -the name to the town. The valley and surrounding -hills were bleak and cheerless in the extreme -and in the gathering shadows of the distance the -mad tumult of the waters was hardly visible, but -if the first view was distinctly disappointing, the -unfavorable impression was to be effaced by our -later acquaintance with the noble river.</p> - -<p>We were glad indeed to come into the well-lighted -streets of The Dalles. It had been an -exceedingly hard day’s run—nearly two hundred -miles with much bad road, stony and deep with -dust in places. The dust was especially annoying -during the last twenty-five miles of our run; the -wind was blowing a perfect gale and there were -numerous cars on the road. When we entered -The Dalles Hotel our appearance hardly fitted us -for civilized society, but such a plight creates no -comment and attracts little attention. It is too -commonplace here—the party that preceded us -and the one that followed were very like unto -ourselves in unkempt appearance. The hotel with -its large comfortable rooms and well-ordered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span> -bath was indeed a haven of rest after the day’s -experience and when we had regained the semblance -of respectability we descended to a late -dinner, for which we were quite ready. We found -everything about the hotel decidedly first-class -and more metropolitan than is common in towns -of five thousand, for that is all the census books -accord to The Dalles. Of course it claims to have -gained considerably since the last enumeration -and its private and public buildings, well-improved -streets and general business activity seem -to bear out the contention.</p> - -<p>The town is built on a historic site. Old Fort -Dalles was a milestone of pioneer travel, having -been established here in 1838 and about the same -time a mission was founded—not by Father -Junipero, whose name always comes to mind in -connection with the word in the west, but by the -Methodist Church. The name was given by -Canadian voyagers in the Hudson Bay service—The -Dalles signifying gutter or trough, referring -to the chasms between the great glacier-polished -sheets of basaltic rock which break the river into -the wild cascades opposite the town. A short -distance above this broken pavement the river -is thousands of feet in width but where it forces -its mad passage through these rocks it is confined -to a few yards and where the channels are most -contracted it sweeps through three rifts of rocky<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span> -floor, each so narrow that a child might cast a -stone across.</p> - -<div id="ip_126" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i173.jpg" width="551" height="402" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>OR BON DESCHUTES RIVER CANYON</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>The surrounding country is a fit setting for -such a wild and turbulent scene. On either hand -lie monotonous plains, now brown with sunburned -grass and studded with gray sagebrush. -To the north rise the rugged peaks of Washington -and eastward is the long sweep of the river -valley guarded by rounded hills. Westward we -see the broad bright river, released from the -dreadful turmoil of The Dalles, vanish into the -giant hills over which the majestic white-robed -form of Mount Hood stands, an eternal guardian. -It is a scene that never failed to arrest the eye of -the observant traveler from the earliest day and -even before his time the “untutored mind” of the -poor Indian was impressed with the weirdness -and beauty of the spot. To account for the -strange phenomena of The Dalles and explain -how the mighty river was compressed into the -three deep narrow channels, the savage mind was -busy with myth and legend and, like most of -the myths of our aboriginees, there appears to -have been a sub-stratum of truth.</p> - -<p>The story tells of the fierce volcanic action -once common in this section when Hood, Adams, -and St. Helens were lurid fire mountains and -when a great range of hills ran across the valley -where The Dalles now are, damming the waters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span> -of the river into a great inland sea. Naturally -enough, fiends of great power and malignancy -were fabled to have congregated in such a spot -and to have had much to do with the manifestations -of fire and water. Here, too, is a hint of -geologic truth, for the fiends were huge monsters -with very powerful tails, probably the dinosaurs -and mud pythons of the reptilian age, of -which remains have been found in this region.</p> - -<p>These fiends, according to the legend, congregated -here when the volcanic furies were subsiding -and chief among them was a master fiend -or devil who had been first in malignancy and -hatred. Whether he was sick and would be a -monk, as in the old proverb, we do not know, but -the story is that he proposed to the lesser fiends -to give up their wicked revels and assume the -role of beneficent spirits and friends of man. -The increasing peacefulness of the elements, he -declared, foreshadowed better things. Why -should they not give up wars and cannibalism, -to which they were so terribly addicted, and seek -the quieter pastimes of peace?</p> - -<p>A strange story and a strange sentiment to -put in the mouth of a devil, but the consequence -was stranger still. Instead of receiving the beneficent -proposal with favor, the fiends turned on -their leader in a furious rage; pacifism was no -more popular in that mythical time than it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span> -now. “He would beguile us into a crafty peace,” -they shrieked as one, “that he may kill and eat -us at leisure. Death to the traitor!”</p> - -<p>Alarmed at such a sudden and unanimous -uproar, which was followed by an onslaught of -all the legions of fiends, this pre-historic Prince -of Darkness lost no time in taking to his heels, -pursued by the howling pack that thirsted for his -blood. Swiftly he sped toward the great ridge -of land that held back the inland sea, seeking -doubtless to hide in the rugged hills to the north. -But he was pressed too closely by his enemies, -to whom he seemed sure to fall victim unless -saved by some desperate expedient. Summoning -all his vast powers as he crossed the spot where -the river now rages among The Dalles, he smote -with his huge tail upon the smooth flat rocks. -A great chasm opened, down which poured a -dreadful torrent from the waters of the inland -sea, tearing boulders to fragment. This frightful -performance stopped the greater part of the -fiends, but some of the more venturesome were -not to be deterred. With a bound they crossed -the chasm and were again on the heels of the -fleeing devil. In desperation he smote once more -upon the rocks and another and still vaster -chasm was opened up and a still greater torrent -poured down it. Still the villains pursued him, -for some of them were agile enough to vault<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span> -across the second rent, and the Indian Satan was -again in danger. With one last and desperate -effort he dealt the rocks a third smashing blow -with his caudal appendage and a third chasm, -twice the width of either of the others, split the -rocks behind him and with the speed of lightning -the wild waters rushed in to fill it.</p> - -<p>Only a few of the hardiest of the pursuing -fiends dared attempt this awful maelstrom and -they fell far short and were ground to powder -by the furious stream. The fiends who leaped -the first and second torrents now essayed to return, -but lacking the zeal of pursuit they, too, -fell short and were swept to destruction. Evidently -determined to make a clean sweep, the -myth-makers even doomed the hesitating demons -who refused the first leap, for the bank on which -they stood gave way, precipitating them into the -mad stream.</p> - -<p>And so the whole race of these troublesome -fiends perished. The devil himself had escaped, -however, and paused, panting and overcome, on -the opposite bank to take inventory of himself. -He was not unscathed by any means. His tail, -the powerful weapon that had wrought his salvation, -was hopelessly crippled by his last gigantic -effort. It was of little consequence, since his -enemies were all dead; he was now free to pursue -the peaceful policy which he had advocated.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span> -So, leaping back over the torrents, he went to -his home—wherever that may have been—to -found a new race of demons, all of whom, like -himself, had flaccid tails.</p> - -<div id="ip_130" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i179.jpg" width="555" height="401" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE DESCHUTES RIVER CANYON</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>Such are the bare outlines of the legend of -The Dalles, which shows no small power of -imagination on part of the savage originators. -The fuller details of the story may be found in -“Canoe and Saddle,” by the lamented young New -England writer, Theodore Winthrop, who visited -this region about 1857 and no doubt learned the -story from the natives at first hand. Winthrop -lost his life in one of the earlier battles of the -Civil War and thus one of the most promising -lights of American letters in that day was forever -extinguished. His story of this western -wilderness at the time of his visit is one of the -most vivid that has ever been written and deserves -a permanent place in the historical annals -of the Great Northwest.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="VI" class="vspace">VI<br /> - -<span class="subhead">WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Had we known the real character of the road -between The Dalles and Hood River we should -never have started on that journey while a light -rain was falling and lowering clouds seemed portentious -of much heavier showers. We had intimations -that the road could scarcely be ranked -as a boulevard, but we assumed that the so-called -Columbia River Highway ought to be passable, -even in showery weather, and resolved not to be -deterred by the prospect of rain. Luckily for us, -the drizzle cleared and the clouds rifted before -we were well out of the town and though we -found some soft spots along the road, we were -spared the experience of trying to negotiate -these frightful grades in the rain. We confess -that while we were pretty well inured to mountain -roads, this twenty-two mile stretch of the -Columbia Highway occasioned a goodly number -of nervous thrills before we rolled into the trim -little village of Hood River. The grades are long -and steep and in places the road is exceedingly -narrow, with a sharp declivity alongside and -there are a number of dangerous turns.</p> - -<div id="ip_132" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 32em;"> - <img src="images/i183.jpg" width="498" height="376" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SUNSET ON THE COLUMBIA</p> - -<p>Copyright Winter Photo Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span> -We had proceeded but a short distance when -a decidedly emphatic signboard admonished us, -“Danger! go into low gear,” and low gear was -indeed very necessary for the long, wicked-looking -twenty-five per cent grade before us. Midway -in the ascent we were halted by a commotion -ahead of us which we learned had been -caused by a head-on collision—the driver descending -the hill having lost control of his car, -due to failure of the brakes. A lively altercation -was in progress into which we declined to be -drawn, having no desire for complication in the -damage suit loudly threatened by the aggrieved -party. After some difficulty the road was cleared -and we kept on our grind to the summit of the -mighty ridge, only to find another confronting us -beyond the long descent.</p> - -<p>During the run to Hood River we caught -only fugitive glimpses of the Columbia, the road -keeping mainly to the hills. Most spectacular -and glorious were the vistas from the steep, -seven-mile grade descending into Hood River -Valley. We had a wonderful panorama of the -greater part of that prosperous vale with its endless -orchards and well-ordered ranch houses -lying between the wooded hill ranges dominated -by the snowy bulk of Mount Hood.</p> - -<p>As we descended to the foothills the road -entered the apple orchards and we had the opportunity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span> -of viewing the heavily laden trees close -at hand. A record crop was nearly ready for -gathering and it seemed as if it were hardly -possible for another apple to find a place on some -of the trees. Every branch and twig was bent -with clusters of the dark red globes and the -boughs had to be supported by numerous props. -The air was redolent with the fragrance of the -fruit and we realized the vast extent of the apple -industry in the Hood River country. The whole -valley below was covered with just such orchards -and they climbed over most of the rounded foothills. -The crop seldom fails and many thousands -of cars of fruit are distributed every year over -the entire country. The orchards in the main -were carefully cultivated and looked very thrifty.</p> - -<p>As we continued down the long grade we came -once more in sight of the Columbia with a wide -vista down the valley and over the rugged hills -that guard it on either hand. Hood River is a -clean, substantial-looking town of about three -thousand people. Besides being famous for -apples, it has the added distinction of being the -home address of the Hon. Billy Sunday when -he is recuperating from his strenuous campaigns -against the devil—and Billy’s devil is quite as -crude and primitive as the demon of the Indians -who cracked his tail at The Dalles. Billy has -invested a small portion of the proceeds of soul-saving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span> -in an apple ranch a few miles from Hood -River, one of the finest in the valley, a garage -man told us. He also gave us the cheerful information -that there were no such mountain -grades to be encountered as those we had just -come over. There were twenty miles of rough -and, as it proved, rather muddy road to be -covered before we should come to the splendid -new boulevard famous the country over as the -Columbia River Highway.</p> - -<div id="ip_134" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i187.jpg" width="551" height="403" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>ONEONTA TUNNEL, COLUMBIA RIVER HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>From photo by The Winter Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>This piece of road, though rather indifferent, -passes some delightful scenery, both of river and -shore, and when improved will be a fit link in -the scenic glories of the famous highway. In -places the road creeps through tangles of fern, -hazel, and maples, festooned with vines and brilliant -with autumnal red and yellow. At one -point we passed beneath a wonderful bank towering -hundreds of feet above us and covered with -a rank, almost tropical tangle of ferns, shrubs, -and vines, through which many clear streamlets -trickled down. The rocks and earth were moss-covered -and it was altogether one of the most -delightful and refreshing bits of greenery we -ever came across. Again we entered groups of -stately trees crowding closely to the roadside -and caught many entrancing glimpses of the -broad, green river through the stately trunks.</p> - -<p>At no place does this part of the road rise<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span> -to any great height, but still there were several -vantage points affording fine views down the -river. Especially was this true of Mitchell Point, -where improvement is under way. Here a tunnel -has been cut for several hundred feet through -the rocky bulwark of Storm Crest Mountain, -which gives its name to the work, and next the -river are five great arched windows, giving an -effect very like that of the Axenstrasse on Lake -Lucerne. The Axenstrasse has only three such -windows, nor do I think any view from them is -as lovely as that from Mitchell’s Point. Here -we had wonderful vistas of river, hill and forest -framed in the great openings, the river emerald-green -and the forests dashed with brilliant -colors, for autumn reds and yellows on the Columbia -are quite as bright and glorious as those -of New England. So sheer are the sides of the -great rock which Storm Crest Tunnel pierces -that it was necessary to suspend the engineers -from ropes anchored at the summit in order to -blast footings to make the survey. The tunnel, -yard for yard, is the most expensive piece of -construction so far completed on the entire road. -Near the place we noted an attractive inn with -a glassed-in veranda overlooking the river, perhaps -two hundred feet above it.</p> - -<div id="ip_136" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i191.jpg" width="549" height="399" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>COLUMBIA HIGHWAY AT MITCHELL POINT</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>The completed portion of the highway extends -fifty-five miles west of Portland and as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span> -construction was still under way, we had to -wallow through a quarter of a mile of sharp -crushed stone before coming to the finished surface—a -performance which left deadly marks on -tires. But once on the wide, smooth stretches -of this unequalled boulevard, we drew a deep -breath of relief and proceeded in high anticipation -which in no particular outstripped the reality. -For the Columbia River Highway is one of the -world’s supreme feats of engineering, commanding -a series of views of one of the greatest and -most beautiful rivers in the world, and affording -unsurpassed panoramas of forest, hill, and mountain.</p> - -<p>So great were the difficulties to be surmounted -that up to the opening of this new highway, -on July 6, 1915, no passable road along the -river existed between Portland and Hood River. -The great mountain buttresses, which came almost -to the water’s edge, and the intervening -ravines effectually blocked the way. It was -determined that a boulevard following the river -was not impracticable, but careful estimates -placed the cost at more than $50,000 per mile. -Realizing that such a highway would be a great -drawing card for the city as well as the entire -Northwest, a few leading spirits of Portland began -an agitation for its construction. The cost -was provided for by a bond issue of two and one-half<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span> -million dollars and when local politicians -showed anxiety to get control of the project, -the people thwarted them by taking matters into -their own hands. Mr. John B. Yeon, a retired -millionaire lumberman with wide experience in -handling large bodies of labor, offered to take -charge of the construction without remuneration. -Other rich Portlanders were alike generous with -their gifts of time and money to such an extent -that the highway is almost as great a tribute to -civic spirit and patriotism as to engineering skill.</p> - -<p>The chief engineer, Mr. S. C. Lancaster, had -been chosen some time before and, by the munificence -of a wealthy citizen, was given the benefit -of a trip to Europe to inspect the famous highways -there. His selection was a most fortunate -one, since in addition to his extraordinary ability -as an engineer, he had a true appreciation of -natural beauty and the happy faculty of so adapting -his plans to the landscape as to preserve and -make the most of its scenic features and to turn -every superb viewpoint to the best possible advantage.</p> - -<div id="ip_138" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 25em;"> - <img src="images/i195.jpg" width="400" height="552" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>AROUND TOOTH MOUNTAIN, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>For the Columbia Highway was to be more -than a mere wagon road along the river. It was -to reveal and emphasize the marvelous beauty -of the mighty gorge and to be a source of uplift -and inspiration to the fortunate wayfarer who -directs his course over it. As a mere utility,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span> -possibly it would not be justified; the great navigable -river and the railways skirting both its -shores might meet all the necessities of transportation -and travel. They could not, however, -reveal the scenic beauties of the river valley to -the best advantage, a mission which the highway -serves to perfection. This aim Mr. Lancaster -kept in view above everything else, and how well -he succeeded only he who truly admires the grand -and beautiful and who travels, many times, the -length of the highway can fully appreciate.</p> - -<p>In addition to exploiting the superb scenery -along its course, Mr. Lancaster determined that -the new highway must conform to the best traditions -of road building. Its construction must -be of the solidest and most permanent character; -it must have no grade greater than five per cent, -no curve less than the arc of a one-hundred-foot -circle; it must be guarded by substantial and -artistic balustrades and, finally, its surface must -equal the finest city pavement in smoothness and -durability. That all these requirements were -fully met we can testify, if a touring experience -covering hundreds of thousands of miles in -Europe and this country will qualify us to judge.</p> - -<p>The actual construction work was begun in -1913 and at the time of our visit the completed -road had reached the western limit of Multnomah -County, forty-seven miles from the Portland<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span> -postoffice. Hood River County had also done -considerable work—the famous Storm Crest -Tunnel is in this county. Apparently nothing -had been done in Wasco County, where we encountered -the steep, long grades out of The -Dalles. We were told that the plan is to carry -this highway the whole length of the Columbia -River on the Oregon side, a distance of about -three hundred miles, but if the work is to be -done by the counties, it will probably be long -in the building. There is at present no road -closely following the river east of The Dalles -beyond Celilo, twenty miles distant, where the -government has expended four millions of -dollars in building locks around the falls of the -Columbia. This and many other scenic wonders -beyond The Dalles make it most desirable from -the tourist’s point of view that the projected -highway may be carried to completion as soon -as possible. It may seem that I am dealing too -minutely with the inception and history of this -wonderful road, but I feel that such details are -not out of place in a book dealing with Oregon. -The splendid achievement of this community in -carrying forward this great enterprise is one -that should be widely heralded as an example -and inspiration to others.</p> - -<div id="ip_140" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i199.jpg" width="377" height="567" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>FROM INSPIRATION POINT, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>Painting by H. H. Bagg after copyright photo by Kiser, Portland</p></div></div> - -<p>After reaching the finished part of the road, -we were scarcely for a moment out of sight of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span> -the great river and the hills, rocks, and forests -that make the wild beauty of its shores. Just -across the river is the barren bulk of Wind Mountain, -with the shattered stumps of giant trees -known as the submerged forest at its base. -A little farther we came to Cascade Locks, built -by the government around the rapids at this -point. Several steamers daily pass these locks, -which have a lift of eight feet. Beyond them -writhes the turbulent green river, which subsides -to placid stretches some distance ahead of us.</p> - -<p>Then marvels come thick and fast. We -pass on to a wonderful viaduct swinging around -the sheer sides of Tooth Mountain, upon which -the road is supported by airy-looking concrete -pillars. Above us tower perpendicular cliffs -crowned by mighty pines, and below us a precipice -quite as sheer falls almost to the river level. -Beyond this Eagle Creek is spanned with a graceful -arch of gray stone and near by is the cliff -which Indian tradition tells us was the southern -abutment of the Bridge of the Gods. Table -Mountain, a rugged, flat-topped cone rising on -the opposite shore, marks the northern end of -the bridge which geologists say may not have -been wholly a myth, for there are signs that a -great dyke once held back the waters of the river -at this point.</p> - -<p>The quaint Indian legend is worth retelling,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span> -since every one who points out the wonders of -the Columbia to a stranger is sure to refer to -it. In early days an Indian father with his two -sons came to this region and the youths had a -quarrel over the division of the land. To settle -the dispute the father shot one arrow to the east -and another to the west, bidding the sons make -their homes where the arrows fell. The Great -Spirit then erected the vast wall of the Cascades -between the two to prevent farther trouble. -From one son sprang the tribe of the Klickitats -and from the other the Multnomahs. The Great -Spirit had built a mighty bridge over the Columbia -and given it in charge of a witch named -Loowit, and this same lady was entrusted with -the care of the only fire then to be found in the -whole world. When Loowit came to realize how -much fire would benefit the two tribes, she besought -the Great Spirit to permit her to offer it -as a gift to the poor Indians. This he did and -the condition of the tribes was wonderfully improved; -they built better lodges, made better -clothes and, with the aid of fire, fashioned implements -of metal and utensils of pottery. To reward -Loowit for her benefactions, the Great -Spirit offered her any gift she might choose and -with true feminine instinct she asked to be young -and beautiful. Her beauty wrought havoc with -the hearts of the chieftains of the region, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span> -none of them found favor in her eyes until one -day Klickitat came from the south and his rival, -Wigeart, from the north and both paid court to -the queen of the great bridge. So evenly matched -were these doughty warriors that Loowit could -not decide between them and a bitter war ensued -between their respective tribes. The whole land -was ravaged and fire was used to destroy the -comforts which it had conferred on the Indians. -So the Great Spirit repented and resolved to undo -his work. He broke down the mighty bridge, -damming the river into a vast lake, and slew -Loowit and her rival lovers. He determined to -give them fitting commemoration, however, and -reared as monuments the great white peaks we -see to-day, though our names are different from -what the Indians called them. Loowit sleeps -under Mount St. Helens and Wigeart and Klickitat -under Hood and Adams. Surely these red-skinned -heroes were given sepulture fit for the -gods themselves.</p> - -<div id="ip_142" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i203.jpg" width="404" height="548" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SHEPPERD’S BRIDGE FROM BENEATH—COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>From photo by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>A weird story, but true, no doubt, for can -we not see the great cliffs which formed the -approaches of the mighty bridge and the white -summits yonder which mark the resting places -of the unfortunate lovers? Still, there is another -story to the effect that when Hood and -Adams were yet fire mountains they quarreled -and the vast rock, hurled by the former at his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span> -adversary, fell short and wrecked the bridge. -Marvelous stories! but not so wonderful as the -realities that greet our eyes in the same region—the -steam road below us with its luxurious -transcontinental train and the Columbia River -Highway with the machines that glide so -smoothly and swiftly over its splendid surface.</p> - -<p>At Bonneville—reminiscent of Washington -Irving—are the fish hatcheries where salmon -and trout are propagated to repopulate the river -and mountain streams. A good-sized park has -been set aside in connection with the work and -this, with the hatcheries, is open to all.</p> - -<p>Beyond Bonneville the road drops almost to -the river level, a beautiful, nearly straight stretch -guarded by a concrete balustrade of artistic design. -We have a grand vista down the river from -this point with a splendid view of Castle Rock -on the Washington side, a vast, conical rock -nearly a thousand feet high, with sides so sheer -that even the hardy pines can scarcely find footing. -Its summit was long considered insurmountable, -but it was recently scaled by a venturesome -climber. It can be seen for many miles -in either direction.</p> - -<p>Not the least enchanting of the highway’s -glories are the waterfalls which flutter from -sheer cliffs for hundreds of feet, swaying like -silver ribbons and filling the air with their weird<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span> -music. The first of these was Horsetail Falls, -a rather unpoetic name for the silver cascade -which dashes for two hundred feet down the -side of a sloping cliff. It is less than three miles -farther to Multnomah Falls, the gem of all the -Columbia cataracts, but in that short distance -there is much to enchant and overawe the beholder.</p> - -<p>At Oneonta Creek the road builders encountered -a vast cliff two hundred and five feet -high, rising sheer a few feet from the water’s -edge. The railway had taken all available space -and Mr. Lancaster, nothing daunted, drove a -tunnel through the solid rock. So great was -the danger that the necessary blasting would -tumble tons of loose rock on the railroad that -the weak places in the cliff were reenforced with -concrete before beginning the work. A strikingly -picturesque touch is given to Oneonta Cliff by a -lone fir which crowns its summit in solitary -majesty—there is no other vegetation except -shrubbery.</p> - -<p>Near this point is some of the wildest and -most grotesque scenery along the whole road. -On the Washington side is Cape Horn and Cigar -Rock—a tall slender pinnacle whose shape suggests -the name—which loom like mighty monuments -erected by some titan fire god when the -demons of our legends ruled the land. These<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span> -stern cliffs, mottled with the rainbow colorings -of autumn and splashed with the soft green of -velvet moss and waving ferns, reach their culminating -beauty at the spot where Multnomah -Falls pours its crystal flood over a ledge nearly -a thousand feet above the highway—a sheer fall -of eight hundred and forty feet—into a rocky -basin and a second plunge of seventy feet to the -green pool by the roadside.</p> - -<p>At a point well above the second fall is a -graceful concrete bridge—the gift of a Portland -millionaire—reached by a flight of steps and -affording a wonderful close-at-hand view of the -fall as well as a wide panorama of the valley. -We paused here for a better view of the scene -and a drink of the clear, ice-cold water. As we -were about to proceed an officer in khaki approached -us. We had no guilt on our conscience—fifteen -miles had been our limit on the Columbia -Highway—and we awaited his coming with -equanimity.</p> - -<p>“Could you give a fat man a lift to Portland?” -he asked, and then apologized, saying he -had mistaken us for some one of his acquaintances. -We urged him, however, to come right -along—a motor cop ought to be a splendidly -posted guide—and we proved quite right in this -surmise. A little conversation revealed the interesting -fact that some years ago he came to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span> -Portland from the county where the writer spent -his boyhood.</p> - -<div id="ip_146" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i209.jpg" width="552" height="401" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SHEPPERD’S BRIDGE, COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>From photo by Fred H. Kiser, Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>“I sold my share in a good Iowa farm,” he -said, “and invested the proceeds—some twenty -thousand dollars—in a dozen acres near Portland -in a section that they told me was sure to -boom—but it hasn’t as yet. And so I go on waiting -and hoping and paying taxes—holding down -a job as motor cop in the meanwhile. O yes, -they are mighty strict in enforcing the speed -limit; there are six officers on the highway with -peremptory orders to arrest any driver exceeding -twenty-five miles per hour. No, we don’t -make many arrests; local people know the rules -and generally observe them and we usually give -strangers fair warning. You will see how necessary -this is when I tell you that there were six -thousand cars on this fifty-mile road last Sunday, -and for all our care there was one serious -accident.” Then he told us the history of the -highway and many interesting facts concerning -it which I have tried to recount in the preceding -pages. He was even posted on the Indian -legends—just the kind of a courier we needed.</p> - -<p>There are four or five waterfalls in the half -dozen miles after passing Multnomah, beautiful, -limpid columns of leaping water—Wahkeena -Falls, Mist Falls, Bridal Veil Fall, Tookey Falls -and Latourelle Falls—each of which might attract<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span> -much attention and admiration were it situated -in some spot less replete with scenic wonders, -but they seem almost commonplace amidst -such surroundings. Here, also, is Benson Park, a -tract of land including Larch Mountain, donated -by Mr. Benson of Portland. A trail has been -built to the summit of the mountain, 4095 feet -above the sea, and the river at this point is only -a few feet above sea level. Here may be gained -one of the most extensive views along the whole -course of the highway. One’s vision covers vast -tracts of mountains reaching to Ranier, over one -hundred miles to the north, as well as endless -panoramas up and down the river. The summit -may be reached by a mule-back ride of several -miles—which we deferred until some more favorable -occasion.</p> - -<p>“You will want to stop here,” said our -friend when we came to a beautiful bridge swinging -across a crystal stream dashing at the bottom -of a deep ravine, green with fern and moss. -“This is Shepperd’s Dell and you must get the -view from beneath the bridge.”</p> - -<div id="ip_148" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i213.jpg" width="376" height="502" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SHEPPERD’S DELL BRIDGE, COLUMBIA RIVER HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>Copyright Winter Photo Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>We descended the stone steps leading down -into the ravine and found ourselves surrounded -by a scene of perfect sylvan loveliness. A picturesque -waterfall came dashing from the ponderous -crags above us into a green, moss-bordered -pool from which a clear stream ran<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span> -among the mottled boulders beneath the bridge. -Ferns, shrubs, and trees covered the cliffs to the -summit and the effect of sun and shadow upon -these and the waterfall was indescribably beautiful. -Turning toward the bridge, a different but -none the less enchanting scene met our view. -Framed in the wide arch of the graceful structure -was a delightful panorama of river and -mountain to which the viewpoint lent a peculiar -charm.</p> - -<p>“Shepperd’s Dell is named after the donor -of this site,” said our guide, “Mr. George Shepperd, -a poor teamster of Portland, who gave it -in memory of his wife. His disinterested generosity -when he had a chance to demand payment -from the county for the right of way -illustrates the spirit of willing help toward this -great enterprise that prevailed among our people, -from the millionaire to the day-laborer.”</p> - -<p>With reluctance we left this delightful spot -to proceed on our journey. A mile farther we -came to the magnificent bridge spanning Latourelle -Creek, a triple-arched structure two hundred -and forty feet long and one hundred feet above -the stream. We remarked on the unique design -of this bridge and our guide told us that no two -on the entire highway follow exactly the same -lines, thus giving a pleasing variation. Opposite -this bridge is Latourelle Falls, another of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span> -beautiful Columbia cataracts, pouring from a -cliff two hundred and twenty-four feet in height.</p> - -<p>“We are now approaching what is considered -the masterpiece of Columbia Highway engineering,” -said the officer. “The great promontory -before us is Crown Point, over seven hundred -feet in height. Before Mr. Lancaster -tackled the problem all plans contemplated getting -around this cliff rather than over it. In -accordance with his consistent aim to secure the -most spectacular scenery from the new road, Mr. -Lancaster declared he would scale the cliff, -though he was assured that this proposition had -all been threshed over many times and found -quite impossible. But the impossible was done; -by patient calculation and careful surveying and -the adoption of some rather revolutionary engineering -tactics, the highway was swung over the -great rock without infraction of the limit of -grade or curve. You will see what I mean as -you ascend the grade.”</p> - -<p>We began the ascent shortly after leaving -Latourelle Bridge and without shifting a gear -or accelerating our speed we steadily climbed upward, -swinging around a maze of curves. As we -approached the summit our guide bade us look -backward. “See the figure eight,” he cried, and, -sure enough, the outlines of the road below us -appeared as a double loop which from our viewpoint<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span> -strikingly resembled a gigantic figure -eight.</p> - -<p>At the summit the road describes a perfect -circle, but to maintain the radius of one hundred -feet it was necessary to support a part of the -road-bed on concrete piers built from the lower -shelves of the rock. In the center of the circle -“Vista House” is to be erected as a memorial -to the pioneers of Oregon and dedicated to the -use and convenience of travelers on the highway.</p> - -<p>But, after all, the wonder of Crown Point -is the view from its summit, which is conceded -to be the most beautiful and impressive along -the whole course of the highway. Our vision -had unobstructed range for thirty-five miles in -either direction. Mile-wide, the green waters of -the Columbia lay beneath us, stretching away on -each hand like a vast silver ribbon until it -vanished in the blue haze of the distance. On -either side rose the mighty hills and rugged -castellated cliffs, dark with the verdure of the -pines and splashed here and there with the crimson -and gold of woodbine and maple. Out beyond -the cliffs and hills ran the titan ranks of -the Cascades, guarded by shining, snow-clad -sentinels. Looking down the river the scene is -not so rugged and awe-inspiring but none the -less pleasing in its pastoral beauty. A blue haze -hangs over the city of Portland, twenty-five<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span> -miles to the westward, and shrouds the low hills -of Washington on the opposite shore.</p> - -<p>“You are fortunate in the day,” said our -guide. “This subdued sunlight gives much -better effects of light and color than a perfectly -clear sky and you are lucky to escape the fogs—not -at all uncommon here.”</p> - -<p>We had ourselves remarked earlier in the -day on the peculiarly striking effects of light and -color caused by the varicolored clouds which -covered much of the heavens; we had noted from -several viewpoints the vast white cone of Mount -Hood against a broad band of silvery sky with -masses of steel blue vapor hovering above its -summit. The wonderful color effect was also -remarked upon by an artist who was endeavoring -to depict them on his canvas. Grays, steel -blues and luminous whites with patches of pale -azure shading to crystal near the horizon formed -the dominating color notes of the sky—a day -not too brilliant and one that showed the magnificent -scene at its best.</p> - -<div id="ip_152" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i219.jpg" width="551" height="404" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>COLUMBIA RIVER GORGE FROM CHANTICLEER INN</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>The wild and rugged scenery of the river -reaches its climax at Crown Point and beyond -this, except in the neighborhood of the unhappily -named Rooster Rock, the highway is devoid of -spectacular features. Near Rooster Rock is an -attractive rural inn, The Chanticleer, typical of -many inns and resorts along the highway. Another,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span> -Forest Hall, is a duplicate of one of the -hospitable old-time Southern mansions and here, -for the modest sum of two dollars, you will be -served by aristocratic colored people with a -genuine Southern chicken dinner and it has the -reputation, our friend declared, of being worth -the price. Many of these inns are first-class in -every particular and enjoy good patronage owing -to the great popularity of the highway with local -people as well as to the large number of tourists.</p> - -<p>A few miles beyond Crown Point the highway -leaves the river and descends in sweeping -curves to the broad, prosperous plain which adjoins -Portland on the north and west and which -evidently produces a good part of the food and -milk supply of the city. At the Auto Club headquarters -on Sandy River, some eighteen miles -from the Portland postoffice, the road swings to -the north, following Sandy River for a couple -of miles. This route is properly counted as the -approach to the Columbia Highway, but we -found it closed for improvement at the time. We -therefore proceeded via the “Base Line” road, -which carried us due west to the heart of the city, -where we found the guidance of our friend, the -officer, a decided assistance. He declared that -the hotel we had selected was one of the best -in the city, but admitted that a newer one was -probably better. This was the Benson, built by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span> -the millionaire whose name is so prominently -connected with the Columbia Highway and who -has had much to do with private and public enterprise -in Portland. Considering our hotel experiences -since leaving San Francisco, we felt -that we were entitled to the best and so pulled -up in front of the Benson, a fifteen-story skyscraper -of the New York type. Here our friend -bade us adieu with thanks for the “lift” we had -given him; and we assured him that he had more -than reciprocated by the information he had imparted -to us. We also came to the mental conclusion -that possibly, after all, a “motor cop” -may be a human being!</p> - -<p>We asked for good quarters at the Benson -but were a little taken aback when we were -ushered into a spacious chamber with a wealth -of solid mahogany and every modern convenience, -including a large tile and enamel bath. We -had not asked the rate and settled down with -the rather disquieting conclusion that we would -be bankrupt when we paid the bill. I may anticipate, -however, by saying that the surprise was -the other way, for the charge was very moderate—no -more than we had often paid for inferior -quarters at hotels certainly no better. In any -event, it was solid comfort and a most welcome -relief to the regime we had been following. We -should have been glad to rest a week under such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span> -conditions, but the near approach of the rainy -season caused us to greatly curtail our sojourn -in Portland.</p> - -<p>We remained long enough, however, to see -a good deal of the fine city and its surroundings. -It is a wonderful city, with its three hundred -thousand people and magnificent business and -public buildings and it is hard, indeed, to realize -that only a trifle over seventy years ago two -rival sea captains tossed a coin to decide whether -the village they were about to found should be -called Boston or Portland, in honor of their respective -home ports. The Portland skipper won -and the Maine town’s name superseded the musical -Indian designation of the spot, “Multnomah” -(down the great water). Whether the captains -realized anything of the possible future of the -town they thus flippantly named, is doubtful, but -it is easy enough now to see that a city so situated -was bound to grow in almost magical -fashion. Though a hundred miles from the sea, -it is still a seaport, for the tide-water river is a -full mile wide here and deep enough for the -largest ocean-going vessels. The river drains a -territory of two hundred and fifty thousand -square miles and is now navigable by good-sized -boats for over four hundred miles in the interior. -All the transcontinental railroads except the -Santa Fe converge at Portland, giving it the best<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span> -rail service of any city on the coast. The principal -shipments are of lumber and wheat; in the -former Portland stands unrivalled in the whole -world and in the latter under normal conditions -rivals—sometimes even surpasses—New York.</p> - -<p>The older sections and business portion of -the city lie on the level plain at the junction of -the Columbia and Willamette, extending on both -sides of the latter river. Overlooking this on the -north and west are a series of heights, ranging -up to twelve hundred feet, which are mainly -occupied by the newer residence districts and by -several public parks. From Portland Heights, -one of the finest of these parks, we had a most -inspiring view of the city and much of its environs -at sunset on the day of our arrival. The -viewpoint was reached by comparatively easy -gradients, the road winding through the beautiful -park, famous for its varieties of trees. Just -below us lay the city, so near at hand that streets -and buildings were plainly recognizable, and -just beyond the great river and endless hills and -mountains.</p> - -<div id="ip_156" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 26em;"> - <img src="images/i225.jpg" width="401" height="551" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>COLUMBIA HIGHWAY NEAR EAGLE CREEK</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>Climbing a little higher we came to Council -Crest, twelve hundred feet above the river, famed -as Portland’s “show hilltop.” Here one has -much the same view of the city and river as from -the Heights and it was perhaps the best point -to catch the full majesty of Portland’s “Mountain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span> -of Destiny,” silver-crested Hood, standing -stern and beautiful against the rosy background -of a matchless sunset. It is fifty miles away as -the crow flies, but it seems much nearer, so near -that in the momentary enthusiasm that fills the -beholder, he feels he might reach it on foot in -an hour or two. Violet-tinted shadows half hide -the lowlands between and serve to obscure everything -that might distract attention from the solitary -mountain which George Palmer Putnam, an -enthusiastic Portlander declares in his charming -book, “The Oregon Country,” “somehow -breathes the very spirit of the state it stands for; -its charm is the essence of the beauty of its surroundings, -its stateliness the keynote of the -sturdy west. It is a white, chaste monument, -radiantly setting for its peoples round about a -mark of high attainment.”</p> - -<p>On Council Crest, Willamette Heights, -King’s Heights, and other elevations, are many -of the fine homes of the city, though it hardly -seemed to us as if in this regard Portland is the -equal of other western cities of her class. In -the older residence sections our guide pointed -out many matchlessly ugly wooden houses which -he said were residences of the early millionaires, -many of whom are now dead. He also pointed -out in Irvington Addition the homes of many -whom he declared were the wealthiest business<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span> -men of the city, but these places appeared quite -modest. In response to our remarks to this -effect, our pilot seemed somewhat annoyed and -declared that Portland “multis” believed rather -in spending their money in business blocks than -in residences. Perhaps he is right, for Portland -certainly has many astonishingly fine business -structures that would do credit to any city in the -world. We were especially delighted with a -newly completed bank building done in white -marble along purely classic lines, quite as fine -as anything of the kind we ever saw. Other skyscrapers, -the theatres, several hotels, and many -public buildings, were architectural masterpieces -built with evident disregard for cost. Nearly all -of these, we were told, had been erected in the -last seven or eight years, and there is no slackening -in the march of solid improvement.</p> - -<p>Multnomah County has voted a bond issue -to improve its main highways, aside from the -Columbia River Road, and this work was in -progress in many places about the city. There -are not many drives aside from the Columbia -Highway of great interest to the tourist whose -time is limited. We followed well-paved streets -to the ferry leading to old Vancouver in Washington, -just across the Columbia. We saw workmen -giving the finishing touches to the great -steel wagon-bridge which now spans the Columbia<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">159</span> -at this point, forming a most important link -in the Pacific Highway. The last spans, which -were assembled on the shore, were floated to -position on the piers the next day and the stupendous -feat of engineering was nearly complete.</p> - -<p>There is nothing of particular interest in -Vancouver, which was founded nearly a hundred -years ago by fur traders of the Hudson Bay -Company. It is at present practically a Portland -suburb, though the fact that it is in another -state will preclude annexation by the larger city. -The new bridge will greatly facilitate inter-communication -and will probably have an immediate -effect in increasing the population and prosperity -of Vancouver.</p> - -<p>We are accustomed to think of the Columbia -Highway as comprising the spectacular -stretch of road between Portland and Hood -River, but as I have elsewhere intimated, the -larger plan of Oregonians contemplates an improved -road running along the river from Astoria -on the coast to Pendleton, three hundred -and thirty miles eastward. The portion from -Portland to Astoria has been graded, but at the -time of our visit was in poor condition and we -considered it hardly advisable to attempt it in -face of threatening rains. This road, while -commanding much wonderful scenery of river -and mountain, does not approach the wild and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span> -enchanting beauty of The Dalles road and no -attempts will be made to beautify the road bed -as has been done to the east of Portland. It will, -however, when paved be an easy and delightful -run to Astoria, Oregon’s oldest settlement. Near -the site of this town, Lewis and Clark camped -in 1806 while exploring the Columbia River, and -five years later the present town was founded by -John Jacob Astor, during the famous expedition -of which Washington Irving became historian. -In 1812 Astoria was captured by the British, who -held it until 1818—a critical period in Oregon -history, when the chances of the Stars and -Stripes and the Union Jack appeared about equal. -Astoria’s chief industry to-day is salmon fishing -and canning, which occupies a season of about -one hundred days during the summer and early -fall.</p> - -<p>From Astoria a circular tour may be pursued -along the ocean shore by the way of Gearhart, -Tillamook, and Dolph, back to Portland or -to Salem if the Pacific Highway is the route to -be pursued to the south. This, they told us, is -a very rough, trying trip at present, but the proposed -highway improvement along much of the -route will rapidly alter conditions. The run of -fifty miles to Government Camp on the western -side of Mount Hood is not difficult and plans -are being perfected to carry the road around the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span> -southwestern slope of the mountain to Hood -River, making the return trip by the Columbia -Highway, a total distance of about one hundred -and fifty miles.</p> - -<div id="ip_160" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i231.jpg" width="555" height="398" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>PORTLAND AND MT. HOOD</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>We left Portland with no little reluctance. -We were conscious that we had not seen the -City of Roses at its best, coming as we did at -the end of summer, when roses, even in Portland, -are not very common—though we saw them and -were told that they bloom every month in the -year. We are already planning a return visit -which we hope to make at a more favorable time -and under more favorable conditions.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="VII" class="vspace">VII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE VALE OF THE WILLAMETTE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>The old Oregon Territory, comprising the -present states of Oregon and Washington, has -the unique distinction of being the only part of -the United States that was actually acquired by -exploration and settlement, and this was not -accomplished without lively competition from -the British. The New England States were -wrested from the unwilling hands of Great -Britain and we paid the first Napoleon his price -for Louisiana. Spain sold us Florida very reasonably -when she saw we were going to take it -in spite of her. California, Texas, New Mexico, -and Arizona were taken at the mouth of the -cannon from Old Mexico—pity we didn’t complete -the annexation of the rest of that troublesome -country at the same time. We paid Russia -seven millions for Alaska and thought it a gold -brick for a time—Seward’s Folly, they called it—and -a little pressure was exercised on Spain to -relinquish the Philippines and Porto Rico into -our keeping. Oregon alone became ours by right -of “discovery,” and this no doubt seemed a curious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span> -kind of right in the eyes of the red men -who possessed this goodly land.</p> - -<div id="ip_162" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 25em;"> - <img src="images/i235.jpg" width="398" height="552" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>ALONG THE COLUMBIA HIGHWAY</p> - -<p>From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>We need nothing more to tell us where the -Oregon pioneers hailed from than the nomenclature -of towns and rivers of the eastern part -of the state. The Columbia itself was once—and -more fitly—the Oregon, which rolled through -“the continuous woods and heard no sound save -its own dashings” until a Boston sea captain decided -to honor the mighty stream with the name -of his ship. The New Englander crops out still -more significantly in Portland, Salem, Albany, -the Willamette, and other names familiar in this -region which the “down east” Yankee bestowed -in loving memory of the towns and rivers of his -native land.</p> - -<p>We left Portland by the Pacific Highway, -which runs through the heart of this western -New England for one hundred and sixty miles, -following the valley of the Willamette River. -This valley is from twenty to sixty miles wide -and is beyond question the garden spot of Oregon, -if not of the entire Pacific Coast. The late -J. J. Hill, the “Empire Builder,” in one of his last -public appearances, at a banquet in Portland, -declared, “I consider the Willamette Valley the -most favored spot on earth for its size.” Gov. -James Withycombe, who for many years was -connected with the Oregon State Agricultural<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span> -College, is responsible for the statement that -“The Willamette Valley has a greater variety of -agricultural products than any other section of -the whole United States.” Possibly both of these -authorities may have been somewhat prejudiced—Hill’s -railroads and steamships were directly -interested in the products of the valley, and a -governor is not likely to minify the merits of any -part of his state. Still, they are authorities on -the matter and the people of the Willamette -Valley, at least, are no doubt quite willing to let -these pronunciamentos stand unchallenged. Nor -are we inclined to dispute such authorities from -any knowledge that we ourselves may have for, -though we traversed the valley at the most unfavorable -period of the year, we were none the -less impressed with the evidences of its wonderful -beauty, fertility, and great variety of products. -The climate, we were told, is very temperate; -in winter the freezing point is seldom -touched and while summer days are usually -pretty hot, the relief of cool nights never fails. -As to its fertility and the capability of the valley -to sustain a far larger population, an enthusiastic -local authority is responsible for the following -comparison:</p> - -<p>“Populous Belgium, which before the German -invasion contained about seven million inhabitants, -has an area of only 11,373 square miles,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span> -or less than the aggregate area of the eight -counties occupying the valley of the Willamette, -which have a total of 12,526 square miles. The -present population of these counties is about two -hundred thousand. There is no reason why they -should not contain as large a number of people -as Belgium, for the climate of both sections is -similar and the soil of the valley, though of different -composition, is fully as productive as that -of Belgium.”</p> - -<p>A roseate forecast, to be sure, but one to -which a careful observer might reasonably take -exception; for while the whole of Belgium is a -level and very fertile plain, more than half the -area of the eight counties of the Willamette is -occupied by rugged mountains which can never -be cultivated except in very limited sections. -We can agree, however, more unreservedly with -another enthusiast who speaks in terms of scenic -beauty and pastoral prosperity rather than square -miles and population:</p> - -<p>“A broad valley, rich, prosperous, and -beautiful to look upon is the Willamette, and a -valley of many moods. Neither in scenic charms -nor agricultural resourcefulness is its heritage -restricted to a single field. There are timberland -and trout stream, hill and dale, valley and mountain; -rural beauty of calm Suffolk is neighbor to -the ragged picturesqueness of Scotland; there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span> -are skylines comparable with Norway’s, and lowlands -peaceful as Sweden’s pastoral vistas; the -giant timber, or their relic stumps, at some pasture -edge, spell wilderness, while a happy, alder-lined -brook flowing through a boulder-dotted -field is reminiscent of the uplands of Connecticut. -Altogether, it is a rarely variegated viewland, is -this vale of the Willamette.</p> - -<p>“You have seen valleys which were vast -wheatfields, or where orchards were everywhere; -in California and abroad you have viewed valleys -dedicated to vineyards, and from mountain vantage -points you have feasted your eyes upon the -greenery of timberland expanses; all the world -over you can spy out valleys dotted with an unvaried -checkerboard of gardens, or green with -pasture lands. But where have you seen a valley -where all of this is mingled, where nature refuses -to be a specialist and man appears a Jack-of-all-outdoor -trades? If by chance you have journeyed -from Medford to Portland, with some excursioning -from the beaten paths through Oregon’s -valley of content, you have viewed such a -one.</p> - -<div id="ip_166" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 35em;"> - <img src="images/i241.jpg" width="551" height="400" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>PRUNE ORCHARDS NEAR DUNDEE, OREGON, WILLAMETTE VALLEY</p> - -<p>From photo by The Winter Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>“For nature has staged a lavish repertoire -along the Willamette. There are fields of grain -and fields of potatoes; hop yards and vineyards -stand side by side; emerald pastures border -brown cornfields; forests of primeval timber<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span> -shadow market garden patches; natty orchards -of apples, peaches, and plums are neighbors to -waving expanses of beet tops. In short, as you -whirl through the valley, conjure up some antithesis -of vegetation and you must wait but a -scanty mile or two before viewing it from the -observation car.</p> - -<p>“As first I journeyed through this pleasant -land of the Willamette, a little book, written -just half a century ago, fell into my hands, and -these words concerning the valley, read then, -offered a description whose peer I have not yet -encountered:</p> - -<p>“‘The sweet Arcadian valley of the Willamette, -charming with meadow, park and grove! -In no older world where men have, in all their -happiest moods, recreated themselves for generations -in taming earth to orderly beauty, have -they achieved a fairer garden than Nature’s simple -labor of love has made there, giving to rough -pioneers the blessings and the possible education -of refined and finished landscape, in the presence -of landscape strong, savage, and majestic.’”</p> - -<p>Such is George Palmer Putnam’s estimate -of the “Valley of Content,” as he styles it in -poetic phrase, and we can testify that his description -is true as well as poetic.</p> - -<p>But it may be that our enthusiasm for the -Willamette Valley is unduly delaying the story<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span> -of the actual progress of our journeyings which -I take it has the “right of way” in this volume.</p> - -<p>Out of Portland we encountered considerable -highway construction work, which reminded -us that Multnomah County is improving other -arteries of travel besides the Columbia Highway. -Such improvement was certainly needed, for the -dozen miles between Portland and Oregon City -was badly broken macadam, enforcing a speed -limit that put fear of “cops” quite out of the -question. The road is fairly level, however, following -the river quite closely and crossing it just -before it comes into Oregon City. Here we -struck the first of many of the ancient covered -wooden bridges in this section, doubtless another -New England inheritance for which the early inhabitants -were responsible. Each of these rickety -old structures bore a warning against crossing -“faster than a walk,” with threat of a liberal -fine for violations, though the infernal clatter of -loose boards that seemed to threaten collapse -ought to be a most effective deterrent against -speeding.</p> - -<p>The road leaves Oregon City by a sharp, -winding ascent which brought us to a fine, rolling -upland with a dim mountain range to our -left. The surface, however, was much better, -permitting us to do the legal limit of Oregon—twenty-five -miles per hour—with entire comfort.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span> -The gently rounded hills on either hand were -occupied by thrifty-looking ranches, and fruit-laden -prune and apple orchards were the most -prevalent crop. The former were being gathered -and we met many wagons and trucks loaded with -the purple fruit, which was being taken to the -drying houses. These were odd-looking frame -structures with tall, square, latticed towers projecting -above the roofs and the odor of the drying -fruit was noticeable in this vicinity.</p> - -<p>Salem, the state capital, fifty miles from -Portland, is the first town of consequence. It is -situated directly on the Willamette, which is -navigable to this point by good-sized steamboats -and two lines ply regularly between Salem and -Portland. The population is only sixteen thousand, -but still enough to give it second rank -among Oregon cities. The general appearance -of the town, its shops and stores, which we especially -observed while making a few purchases, -would give the impression of a much larger place. -Salem, like The Dalles, was founded by Methodist -missionaries as early as 1840. This was only -seventeen years later than the founding of the -last Spanish mission in California and we could -not help thinking how this beautiful Arcadian -valley would have appealed to the Franciscan -padres. There were plenty of natives to engage -the activities of the missionaries and they are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span> -more numerous here to-day than in the vicinity -of the old California missions. An industrial -training school for Indians is located near the -city. The town was incorporated in 1853 and -made the state capital in 1860. Its career has -been as peaceful and quiet as its name would signify. -Indian fighting and mining lawlessness -never disturbed its serenity as in the case of so -many California towns. To-day it still gives the -impression of quiet prosperity and peacefulness -with its twenty-five churches and two denominational -schools—the Methodist Willamette University, -with about five hundred students, and -the Catholic Sisters’ Academy, with one hundred -and fifty girls in attendance. The state capitol -and other public buildings are not very impressive -and apparently not so costly as state capitols -and public buildings average the country over. -There are fifty miles of wide, level, well-paved, -tree-bordered streets which in our mind go -farther than almost anything else as an index of -civic pride and progressiveness.</p> - -<p>Beyond Salem the valley widens and becomes -monotonously level. On either hand is a -dim blue mountain range, above which, eastward, -glimmers an occasional snowy peak. The -principal crop in this section is wheat, large -quantities of which were being hauled to the -market. The heavily laden wagons worked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span> -havoc with the old stone road, which was very -rough in places. We found considerable stretches -of loosely scattered crushed rock awaiting the -steam roller; this made desperately hard going -and wrought havoc with tires. Sometimes we -could avoid it by running to one side of the road, -but chuck-holes and dust many inches deep made -this alternative an unpleasant one. The country -was a dead brown hue everywhere except for -the enlivening green of occasional fields of alfalfa -or well-watered lawns about some of the handsome -farmhouses. The soil showed every evidence -of fertility and we were assured that crop -failures are quite unknown in this favored valley.</p> - -<p>Albany, twenty-seven miles from Salem, is -a good-looking, well-built town of five thousand -people. There is an astonishingly large seven-story -hotel which seemed to indicate a busy -place. Notwithstanding the opportunities to -dine at several apparently excellent hotels along -this route, we did not regret that we had picked -up a lunch at a Portland delicatessen store. It -was more enjoyable than any hotel meal when -eaten in the open under a group of towering trees -by the roadside—and, incidentally it cost less. -The Willamette at Albany affords excellent -water power, and this has attracted several -manufacturing establishments to the town.</p> - -<p>Leaving Albany, the road swings several<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span> -miles eastward from the river, returning to it at -Harrisburg, thirty miles farther south. Here we -found a ferryboat propelled by a gasoline launch -alongside serving in lieu of a bridge. The service -is kept up free of charge by the county and -the ferryman told us that the average is two hundred -and fifty trips per day. As the river is -not very wide here and there appeared to be no -great obstacle in the way of bridging it, the ferry -seemed a penny-wise makeshift—and this on the -much-vaunted Pacific Highway. Certainly one -need have no difficulty in keeping on this same -Pacific Highway for a more be-signed road we -never traveled. At some of the crossings there -would be a half dozen different signboards put -up by enterprising local business men, auto dealers, -and the omnipresent Goodrich Tire Company. -And I might incidentally remark that I -can conceive of no better advertising to the -motorist than these same road signs; I have -blessed the Goodrich people more than once -when we paused in doubt at the parting of the -ways, only to be set aright by their friendly signboards. -We came to the conclusion, as the result -of much observation, that the best material -for the sign is a well-painted pine board about -an inch thick. This is little affected by weather, -can be easily repainted, and affords little temptation -to the wretched outlaw who insists on using<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span> -the signboard as a rifle target. A rifle bullet -will often knock a hole as big as one’s hand in -the enamel of a metal sign, while its ravages can -hardly be seen on a wooden sign, and a putty -plug effects an instant repair when painting. In -any event, while few metal signs escaped the -vandal’s bullets, we hardly ever saw a wooden -board “shot up.” Of course, it is easy enough -to say that the vandals who damage road signs -should be punished severely enough to break up -the practice, but this is a long route to travel in -a country where contempt for law is so general. -In all of our European travels, some twenty-five -thousand miles, we never saw a wilfully damaged -signboard.</p> - -<p>Twenty miles beyond Harrisburg we found -ourselves in the streets of Eugene, a town nearly -the size of Salem and quite its equal in metropolitan -appearance. It is a live-looking, well-improved -town, and, I was going to say, gives -the impression of a much larger city, but I fear -I am overworking this expression in connection -with these western towns. It is none the less -true, however; the streets, the stores, the buildings, -public and private, would do credit to a -city twice as large as Eugene. Here is the state -university of Oregon, with nearly a thousand -students who no doubt contribute much to the -evident activity of the town. The university<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span> -buildings, beautifully situated on a grassy slope -along the Willamette, are mainly of classic design. -Like the public buildings at Salem, they -impressed us as being rather inferior to what one -would expect of a state-supported institution. -Eugene is very pleasantly located at the edge of -the foothills along the wide, level valley and -within full view of the rugged coast range of the -Cascades. The streets are wide and well-improved, -many of them shaded by Oregon maples, -gorgeous with autumn colorings when we saw -them.</p> - -<p>A shopkeeper directed us to the Osborn -Hotel as the best in the town and it proved very -satisfactory, indeed. It is a large red-brick -structure fronting a public park and located conveniently -to the business center of the town. We -were given a comfortable room at a moderate -rate, but the restaurant prices were quite up to -metropolitan standard, though this was mitigated -somewhat by the first-class service. The -city water was exceedingly unpleasant, having -been “doped” with chemicals to counteract impurities. -We were assured, however, that it was -quite harmless and suffered no ill after-effects -from drinking it.</p> - -<div id="ip_174" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i251.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE WILLAMETTE NEAR EUGENE, OREGON</p> - -<p>From photo by Winter Photo Co., Portland, Oregon</p></div></div> - -<p>Our run for the day had been a comparatively -short one—one hundred and forty miles -over roads better than average. We arrived in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span> -Eugene early in the afternoon and remarked that -we might easily reach Roseburg, eighty miles -distant, before dark. We went, of course, on the -assumption that the Pacific Highway south of -Eugene was quite as good as to the north of the -city—an assumption which we found to be sadly -at variance with facts. A garage man warned -us not to expect a “joy ride” to Grants Pass, for -though the actual distance is only a little greater -than we covered on the preceding day, the run -was much harder. All of which we heard with -light-hearted unconcern, for it never entered our -heads that on the much-heralded Pacific Highway -we should find some of the roughest and -most dangerous road since leaving San Francisco.</p> - -<p>Out of Eugene we encountered hills, but the -going was fair to Cottage Grove, a quiet village -which marks the southern extremity of the Vale -of the Willamette. We soon entered Pais Creek -Canyon and the road degenerated into a rough, -winding trail, muddy from a heavy rain which -had preceded us only a day or two. The road -was often strewn with boulders and cut up into -ruts that gave the car an unmerciful wrenching -as we crawled cautiously along. In places an -effort had been made to get rid of the stones -and mud by covering considerable stretches of -road with planks, but these were loosely laid and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span> -did not mend matters a great deal. The road -was often dangerously narrow and there were -many sharp turns around blind corners. There -was just mud enough to make us uneasy on the -grades and to demonstrate the utter impossibility -of the road for a heavy car in wet weather.</p> - -<p>There was little respite from these conditions -in the sixty miles from Cottage Grove to -Drain. In places, improvement work was in -progress which will do something to smooth out -the highway for the motorist of the future. The -only redeeming feature was the glorious scenery. -We ran along green banks covered with giant -ferns whose long fronds swept the car as we -passed and we glided beneath closely standing -pines under which the ground was carpeted with -rank mosses. The prevailing green was varied -by the coral-red clusters of honeysuckle berries -and the early autumn reds and yellows of the -deciduous trees.</p> - -<div id="ip_176" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i255.jpg" width="379" height="502" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>ON THE PACIFIC HIGHWAY IN OREGON</p> - -<p>From painting by H. H. Bagg</p></div></div> - -<p>A long climb through scattered pine trees -and a winding descent brought us to the lonely -little village of Drain, wedged in the bottom of -the canyon. Here a garage man gave us the -cheerful information that the road before us was -no better than that over which we had come and -thus, being prepared for the worst, we were -agreeably surprised to find that our friend had -exaggerated somewhat. The road was bad, to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span> -be sure, but no match in genuine badness for that -north of Drain. We ran through open oak and -fir groves on the Calapooia Mountains, very -closely following the course of the Southern -Pacific Railroad and passing several lonely little -stations. We found some road improvement in -progress and a few new stretches with properly -engineered grades and curves, which gave evidence -of the determination of Oregon people to -make at least a part of this Pacific Highway -worthy of the name.</p> - -<p>As we approached Roseburg we found the -country well settled, with many thrifty-looking -apple orchards on the rolling hills. Roseburg is -a good-looking town of five thousand people and -we passed two very inviting hotels. A magnificent -high school building was under construction -and all appearances in the town pointed to prosperity -and progressiveness. We took on gasoline -at a garage that made the somewhat sweeping -claim, “Largest and best-equipped garage between -Portland and San Francisco,” but we had -no opportunity of testing its facilities.</p> - -<p>We would gladly have paused for the night -in Roseburg; eighty miles of such road as we -had covered was quite enough for one day, in our -opinion, but we could not forget that the rainy -season was due any time and prudence behooved -us to push onward. There were still seventy-six<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span> -miles between us and Grants Pass and, as it -proved, every one of them climbs or descends -some giant hill range, for the whole run is -through the heart of the Cascade Mountains. -There are many steep, winding grades, miles -long, much narrow roadway creeping beneath -overhanging precipices, with precipices dropping -away below, too narrow for passing except at -long intervals and often stony and rough in the -extreme. The compensating feature is the wonderfully -beautiful and picturesque scenery that -prevails along the entire run. Wooded hills -stretched away to the lavender-tinted horizon or -towered far above us as we dropped into the -depths of cool, green canyons alongside madly -dashing mountain streams—emerald green, crystal -clear, or white with foam.</p> - -<p>Out of Roseburg we followed the Umpqua -River, entering the prosaically named Cow Creek -Canyon at Canyonville—but if the name is prosaic -there is nothing commonplace about the -wild and rugged scenery throughout its entire -length. The road frequently descended to the -side of the stream, where there were glorious -camping sites galore, some of them occupied by -motor parties. Green sward, pure cold water, -fine trees, and plenty of firewood make this a -camper’s paradise and in season the trout fishing -is unsurpassed. There are also plenty of deer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span> -and bear in these rugged hills and many of the -campers were evidently on hunting expeditions, -for the season had just begun. Again the road -ascended a stiff grade and rose to splendid vantage -points above the vexed river. We passed -several little villages nestling in the canyon and -presenting the same general characteristics. -About these were spots of cultivated land and -often prune and apple orchards.</p> - -<p>Beyond Wolf Creek, a few miles from -Grants Pass, we entered the Rogue River Valley, -which vies with Hood River in producing the big -red apple for which Oregon has become famous -and wonderful stories were told us of the yield -of these orchards. Many other varieties of fruit -are grown here and vineyards flourish. The climate -is much the same as that of the Willamette -Valley, and general characteristics are much the -same except that the Rogue River country is -more rolling.</p> - -<p>At sunset we came into the wide main -streets of Grants Pass—glad indeed that our -strenuous run had reached its goal—and cast -about anxiously for a hotel. A native directed -us to the Josephine, but a bathroom was not to -be had there, nor were we particularly prepossessed -with the general appearance of the -place. The Oxford, farther down the main -street, proved a quiet and fairly comfortable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span> -haven in charge of a landlady who was kindly -attentive. There was no restaurant in connection -with this hotel—one of several instances -which we found where hotels had given up serving -meals, which they declared the least profitable -part of the business, despite the high prices -which prevail on menus in the west.</p> - -<p>We found more of the atmosphere of the -“boom” towns in Grants Pass than we noted in -any other town since leaving Bend. The citizens -seemed to think that the city was on the verge -of a great increase in population and prosperity. -The reasons for the optimism are attractively -set forth in some of the literature circulated by -the commercial club, from which I quote a few -paragraphs, with slight modifications:</p> - -<p>“Upon the north bank of the beautiful -Rogue River in Southern Oregon is located the -up-to-date, prosperous city of Grants Pass, with -a population exceeding six thousand purely -American citizens, enjoying the charms of picturesque -scenery the equal of which is not to be -found elsewhere; the clear, spring-like mountain -stream, with its myriads of trout and salmon, -coursing along the southern limits of the city -boundary, affords means of recreation which -only few of the vast American populace are permitted -to enjoy.</p> - -<p>“Grants Pass is surrounded by rich agricultural<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span> -and horticultural lands; the low forest-clad -hillsides are being rapidly cleared and planted to -Tokay grape vineyards and peach, pear, and -apple orchards; upon both banks of the Rogue -River, for a distance of twenty miles, are large -commercial apple orchards, some in full bearing, -consisting of the Spitzenberg and Yellow Newton -Pippin apples, for which the section is world-famous, -and others newly planted or from one -to five years old; large tracts of luscious watermelons, -nutmegs, and cantaloupes are to be seen -interspersed with strawberries, blackberries, and -other varieties of small fruit; here a field of corn, -nodding its tassels ten and twelve feet high; -there a field of hops, smiling fortune to its lucky -owner; and again, rolling meadows of alfalfa and -bunches of dairy cattle, sleek and trim; the azure -blue sky above reaching to the horizon, the lines -of which are broken by the majestic peaks of -the Coast Range Mountains. Truly has this -been called ‘The Italy of America.’</p> - -<p>“In the hills close to Grants Pass the sportsman -finds grouse, quail, pheasants, and grey -squirrels to his hearts content, whilst along the -river and creeks the angler forgets all care when -casting his fly to the invitation of the rainbow, -salmon, and speckled trout, which abound along -the numerous riffles and in the deep pools; -farther out in the timber-clad mountains the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span> -huntsman may find deer, bobcat, bear, and mountain -lion. A poor hunter is he who does not have -venison for dinner the first day.</p> - -<p>“The standing timber of Josephine County -is conservatively estimated at nine billion feet of -fir, sugar pine, spruce, cedar, and yellow pine. A -score or more sawmills are operated in the immediate -vicinity of Grants Pass; the product of -these mills is manufactured into fruit boxes and -building material at the two large factories in the -city, which employ several hundred men. Mining -for gold and copper is carried on extensively in -all parts of the county to a distance of forty -miles; the Grants Pass district supplying at the -present time over one-half of the gold and copper -output of the state. Marble, lime, platinum, fire -clay, and asbestos are among the many lesser -mineral products.</p> - -<p>“The homeseeker looking for an ideal location -and an opportunity to become independent -in a really charming city and valley should not -fail to investigate the merits of Grants Pass and -vicinity.”</p> - -<p>The completion of a million-dollar sugar -factory in the past year had still farther added -to the optimism of Grants Pass people. This, -we were assured, would mean the distribution of -perhaps five hundred thousand dollars annually -in the community and reclamation of some six<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span> -thousand acres of land with an assured income -of at least fifty dollars per acre. Irrigation is -necessary to grow sugar beets in this section -and, fortunately, the water supply is practically -unlimited. Naturally, Grants Pass is exceedingly -anxious to have an outlet to the sea, which -is less than one hundred miles distant across the -Cascades—and a bond issue to begin work on -a railroad to Crescent City in California has -recently been voted. All of which goes to show -that Grants Pass is honest in its belief of a great -future and that no effort will be omitted by its -hustling citizens to realize said future at the -earliest possible moment.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="VIII" class="vspace">VIII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">GRANTS PASS TO EUREKA</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>We may admit that it was with considerable -misgiving that we left Grants Pass in the early -morning for Crescent City on the sea. We had -been discouraged in the attempt by the best -posted road authorities in San Francisco, who -declared that the trip was too difficult to be worth -while, and the pleasant young lady who was all -there was in sight when we called at the Portland -Automobile Club was even more emphatic -in her efforts to dissuade us.</p> - -<p>“Don’t try it,” she said. “The road by the -way of Crescent City and Eureka is a rough -mountain trail, with grades as high as thirty-eight -per cent and the rains are likely to catch -you at any time from now on,”—all of which, -we may remark parenthetically, proved true -enough.</p> - -<p>Over against this was the assurance of a -veteran motorist whom we met at Crater Lake -Lodge and who had just come from San Francisco -over this route, that there was nothing to -give the driver of a Pierce Forty-eight a moment’s -uneasiness; though the road was very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span> -heavy and rough, a staunch, powerful car would -have no difficulty. We were also reassured by -the garage owner at Grants Pass, who declared -that the natives thought little of the run to Crescent -City and that a motor stage made the trip -nearly every day in the year, though sometimes -in bad weather, he admitted, the nearly obsolete -but always reliable horse had to give them a lift.</p> - -<p>We learned enough, however, to feel sure -that considerably heavier work in mountaineering -than we had as yet done awaited us, and this -naturally caused us some uneasiness. At times -when such feelings seized us concerning roads -traveled by some one almost daily, we tried to -realize the sensations of the pioneers, who confronted -these awful solitudes without road or -chart and at best with only treacherous savages -to guide them over well-nigh impassable trails -through mountain and forest. Such reflections -made our misgivings about roads and routes -seem little short of cowardly, and perhaps at -times rather coerced our better judgment.</p> - -<p>We covered forty miles out of Grants Pass -with little hint of the road terrors we expected -to encounter before the close of the day. The -road, fair to excellent, ran at first through cultivated -fields and apple-laden orchards; then it -entered rounded hills, where the forests, fragrant -with balsam pine, were interspersed with lovely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span> -green valleys dotted with numerous well-improved -ranches. There were signs of considerable -activity in lumbering and we passed two -large sawmills along the way.</p> - -<p>At Waldo, a tiny village forty miles from -Grants Pass, we recalled that the famous Oregon -caves were only twelve miles eastward and -regretted that our schedule did not permit a -day’s delay to visit them. From here a picturesque -trail leads to these so-called Marble -Halls of Oregon, deep in the heart of the rugged -mountains. These strange caves were discovered -some fifty years ago by a hunter who pursued -a wounded bear into a cavern in the mountain. -The caves have not yet been fully explored, but -there is known to be a series of lofty vaulted -chambers rivaling those of the Mammoth Cave -and hundreds of smaller apartments, with walls, -ceilings, and pillars in old ivory and lighter colorings, -all as delicately sculptured as though designed -and executed by master artists. The roar -of subterranean rivers is heard, seemingly overhead, -and again beneath one’s feet, echoing from -mysterious caverns as yet unentered even by the -adventurous guides.</p> - -<p>Beyond Waldo our real mountaineering began, -and an incident occurred that caused us no -small perturbation nor, looking back, can we -feel that our uneasiness was unwarranted. Here<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span> -a stranger walking along the road hailed us and -as we paused in response to his signal, asked us -to give him a lift to the next town. As he looked -fairly reputable and carried no baggage, our first -thought was that he might be a ranchman of -the vicinity, and as there were four unoccupied -seats in the big car, it seemed churlish to refuse, -despite whatever distrust we might have of a -stranger in such a lonely wilderness. So we -bade him climb in beside the driver and began -the ascent of the stupendous grade leading over -the first great range of the Cascades. For nearly -ten miles we followed the rough, stony road -which flung its narrow loops around canyon and -headland, often with a deep valley alongside. -The steep slopes above and below us were clad -with mighty pines and through these we caught -occasional glimpses of an ever widening prospect. -It was only when we reached the summit -of the range that the full magnificence of the -scene broke upon our astonished vision. A vast -panorama of rugged peaks—“a sea of wood in -wild, unmeasured miles,” to quote the poet of the -Sierras—stretched way inimitably in the thin, -clear atmosphere until it was lost in a violet-blue -haze.</p> - -<p>Our enjoyment of the wonderful scene was -not unmixed, however, for by this time it had -become clear to us that our self-invited passenger<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span> -was a lunatic. He had talked much wild and -silly chatter about a wonderful invention of his -and a great fortune awaiting him in San Francisco, -and given evidence by other unmistakable -signs that he was more or less demented. It did -not seem practicable to attempt to get rid of him -at the time and we began the descent with increasing -uneasiness as he continued to harass -the driver with his wild talk. And if ever a driver -needed to keep his head clear it was during this -same descent; the road, a mere shelf in the rock, -crawls along the precipitous mountainside while -a vast abyss yawns below with a mad, boulder-vexed -stream at the bottom. It was made far -more trying to the nerves by the absence of trees -or shrubbery to screen the precipice—a bare foot -or two lay between our wheels and a sheer drop -of say half a mile.</p> - -<p>Our guest noted our perturbation and, turning -to the lady, who had shrunk into the smallest -possible space in the end of the capacious seat -and was studiously refusing to even look at the -road, he said,</p> - -<p>“Gets on your nerves, doesn’t it? Looks -mighty scaly, for a fact!”</p> - -<p>It was not made the easier by the knowledge -that a lunatic sat beside the driver, harmless, -maybe, but we had no way of knowing that he -was. In any event, when he wasn’t looking I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span> -slipped the Colt automatic, which had been our -almost forgotten companion since we started, -beneath our car robe, with the resolve that if he -should attempt to lay hands on our driver on -these appalling roads, there would be something -doing. Fortunately, except for his incessant -chatter, he was quite inoffensive and we looked -forward anxiously to the next station on the -road, where we determined to drop him, willy -nilly.</p> - -<p>It was a long, slow crawl to Patrick’s Creek, -to which an occasional signboard directed us, for -our cautious driver averaged only seven or eight -miles per hour, and, however anxious we were -to get rid of our passenger, it was quite enough. -The scenery was inspiring and picturesque but -the road was more or less nerve-racking every -mile of the way. Passing-places were only occasional, -but, fortunately, we met no one after -leaving Waldo.</p> - -<p>Patrick’s Creek Hotel proved a small ranch -house close by the road where meals are served -and auto supplies sold to tourists. As usual, we -had our lunch, but were glad to supplement it -with one of the landlady’s home-made pies, -which proved excellent indeed. For once we regretted -having brought our lunch, since they told -us that it was their practice to fry one of the -numerous young chickens running about the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span> -place, “while you wait.” Here we had the peculiar -sensation that comes from paying fifty -cents per gallon for gasoline—our top notch, I -believe, except in Longwy, France, some years -before.</p> - -<p>“I get it by parcel post in sealed five-gallon -cans,” said the innkeeper, who is also forest -ranger in this district, “which is the only way -the stage people will accept it for shipment.”</p> - -<p>“Do you get much patronage here besides -meals?” we asked.</p> - -<p>“In the hunting season we do,” he replied, -“It’s a famous hunting ground. We could go -up on yonder mountainside and start a dozen -deer in an hour.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to have plenty of venison at -your hotel,” we ventured.</p> - -<p>“Not a bit of it,” he replied in disgust. “The -game law forbids serving it for pay and you are -not even allowed to have any portion of a deer’s -carcase on hand longer than ten days; you can’t -sell it or ship it out of the county—there isn’t -much sport in killing the poor brutes under such -conditions. Still, hunters come here and kill the -limit of three bucks, but most of the venison goes -to waste.”</p> - -<p>When we resumed our journey our passenger, -with considerable rambling talk, expressed -his willingness to continue with us to San Francisco<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span> -and even intimated that we might get a -slice of the great fortune he had in prospect -there; he evidently did not object to the car or -the company and was quite willing to become a -permanent member of our party. We succeeded -in making him understand that we were not running -a stage and that we felt we had done our -share in the thirty-five-mile lift we had given -him. We offered him a little financial assistance, -if needed, but it was indignantly declined. He -would soon have wealth beyond the dreams of -avarice. And so we bade him a glad farewell, -with the mental resolve that we would pick up -no more unknown pedestrians. We were afterwards -hailed by one or two knights of the road -who, no doubt, thought us stingy snobs as we -sailed past them in sublime indifference—but we -had had our lesson. We saw added reason for -such a course when we read later in a San Francisco -paper that an autoist had been held up and -robbed in the mountains by two foot pads whom -he had generously given a ride.</p> - -<p>Leaving the inn, we followed the yellow -road which we could see far ahead, zigzagging -up the rough mountainside before us. It led to -another seemingly endless climb over steep, -stony grades along the edge of precipitous slopes. -A short distance from the hotel we saw a doe -eyeing us curiously from the chaparral a few<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span> -yards from the roadside. She seemed to realize -that a lady deer is safe in California, even in the -hunting season, for she showed little signs of -fear. Had she been legitimate game we might -probably have killed her with the Colt.</p> - -<p>The climb over a stony road—enough to try -every rivet in any car—continued for several -miles. On coming to the summit, we did not -immediately descend, but continued for many -miles, with slight ups and downs, along the crest -of the Cascades—or is it the Coast Sierras?—the -ranger said the point is still in dispute as to -where one ceases and the other begins. It was -a narrow, precarious trail that we followed, with -only thin shrubbery to screen the forbidding -slopes at its side—but what a magnificent and -inspiring vista it opened to our delighted vision! -Beneath us lay a vast, wooded canyon, thousands -of feet in depth, and beyond it stretched an infinite -array of pine-clad summits, seemingly -without end, for the day was clear as crystal and -only a thin haze hid the distance. They are -building a new highway that will supersede this -mountain trail and future tourists will gladly -miss the thrills of the precarious road, but they -will also miss much of the grandeur and beauty; -to see the mountains one must climb the mountains -to their very crests. We shall always be -glad that we saw the wild and inspiring vistas<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span> -from many of these old-time roads which will -pass into disuse when the improved highway -comes.</p> - -<p>Again we angled slowly down into a vast -valley and climbed two more ranges before the -cool, fresh ocean air struck our faces. To tell -of the beauty and charm of the scenes that presented -themselves to our eyes would be continual -repetition; they were much like those we had -encountered ever since entering the mighty hill -ranges.</p> - -<p>We were conscious of a sudden and overpowering -change when we came within a dozen -miles of the destination of our day’s run. Here -we entered the Del Norte redwoods and many -were the exclamations of wonder excited by the -majesty and loveliness of these virgin forests. -Glorious individual trees, ten to twenty feet in -diameter, towering two to three hundred feet -above us, crowded up to the roadside, standing -so thickly that it was impossible to see ahead for -any considerable distance. But most wonderful -was the rank—almost tropical—appearance of -the undergrowth. The ground was green with -velvet moss, and huge ferns with fronds several -feet in length, intermingled with the metallic -green of the huckleberry bushes. Many other -shrubs and plants unknown to us joined to make -up this marvelous tangle of greenery, the like of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span> -which we had never before seen. Occasionally -we came upon a fallen tree cast down by storms -of perhaps a century ago, but the dead giant had -become the abode of riotous life, for every foot -of his great trunk was covered with a rank -growth of fern and shrub. We even saw good-sized -trees springing out of these long-dead redwoods. -We had seen the redwoods of Tuolumne, -Santa Cruz, and Mariposa, larger trees but -utterly lacking the beauty of the riotous greenery -of the groves of Del Norte.</p> - -<p>A clear, green river spanned by a high iron -bridge served to enhance the charm of the scene. -We paused to drink of the ice-cold waters of a -little roadside waterfall and to felicitate ourselves -that we had not been dissuaded from the -Crescent City road. It is a rough, steep, and -dangerous road, we may admit, but this glorious -forest repays one a thousand times. The accumulation -of leaves and pine needles deposited -through the centuries had made the soil beneath -the trees a deep, soft mould, and to make the -road passable it had been “corduroyed” for several -miles with redwood slabs, which slowed the -car down to a snail’s pace. This was no hardship, -however—surely one who does not expect -to pass over the road again would never wish to -hasten through such delightful scenery.</p> - -<div id="ip_194" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 27em;"> - <img src="images/i275.jpg" width="427" height="529" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THROUGH THE DEL NORTE REDWOODS</p> - -<p>From painting by Martella Lane</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span> -It was still four miles to Crescent City when -we came out of the great forest and for this distance -we ran through rather poorly improved -farm lands. The ocean, which flashed into view -as we approached the town, was indeed a welcome -sight after our long exile in the hills. For -many miles as we approached the town the trees -at frequent intervals had borne signs calling -attention to the merits of the Bay View Annex, -with the constant reiteration of “hot and cold -water” as the chief attraction. So we sought the -Bay View, a rambling, wooden building looking -out on the harbor and were forthwith assigned -to rooms in the “Annex” at the rear. While our -quarters were far from elaborate, they were -clean and comfortable, though the much-vaunted -hot and cold water proved principally cold.</p> - -<p>We had leisure to look about the town before -supper and while there was little in the -plain, straggling, wooden village to excite our -interest, we learned that Crescent City has big -ambitions and high hopes for the future.</p> - -<p>“We have one of the best harbors on the -whole western coast, about equally distant from -San Francisco and Portland,” said a shopkeeper -from whom we made a few purchases. “It is -deep enough for ocean-going vessels, so that -little dredging will be necessary, and only needs -protection of a sea wall to offer safe shelter for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span> -a whole fleet of ships. Congress has been interested -in the project and only last year a committee -of several of the leading members came -here to investigate. All agreed that the government -could well afford to spend five million -dollars to improve the harbor and that the resources -of the country about here warrant an -appropriation. If this is done and the railroad -carried through from Grants Pass, Crescent City -will become a city, indeed. There are two hundred -billion feet of standing timber within a -radius of two hundred miles from Crescent City, -most of which would be converted into lumber -and find an outlet through Crescent City Harbor. -The rich Rogue River Valley, now at the mercy -of the Southern Pacific Railroad, will gladly seek -a cheaper outlet for its products and though it -may not be apparent to a stranger, the agricultural -products of Del Norte County are very considerable. -Our butter, for instance, is considered -the finest in the country and the Palace Hotel -at San Francisco will not serve any other. Its -excellence is due to the splendid grazing lands -watered by an annual rainfall of sixty-eight -inches. This also gives you the secret of the -wonderful greenness of the great redwood forest -which you so admired when coming to our city. -Salmon and other fishing and packing are already -very extensive and can be increased indefinitely.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span> -There are immense deposits of -copper and iron ore between here and Grants -Pass—particularly in the neighborhood of -Waldo. Marble and other building stone are to -be found within easy shipping distance. We -have the finest summer climate on the Pacific -Coast and splendid beaches, so that Crescent -City is bound to become more and more of a -summer resort—in fact, a great many people -come here now in the summer time. Do you -think our hopes for Crescent City’s future are -ill-founded? Isn’t it reasonable to believe that -when this harbor is improved and a railroad completed -to both Grants Pass and Eureka that we -may fairly expect a city of fifty thousand people -or more?”</p> - -<p>We did not take issue with our enthusiastic -informant, though, indeed, it was hard to imagine -a teeming city on the site of the lonely -little village; but perhaps the same thing might -have been said of Portland or Seattle fifty years -ago. A start has really been made toward improving -the harbor, for an initial appropriation -of three hundred and ninety thousand dollars -has been made by the War Department, to which -Del Norte County has added the proceeds of a -one-hundred-thousand-dollar bond issue. The -chief industry of the town at present is lumbering, -one company employing five hundred men,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span> -but the output is limited by the indifferent shipping -facilities.</p> - -<p>Crescent City has another ambition which -is well worthy of realization—to have a large -section of the magnificent forests near the town -set aside as a national park. It would, indeed, -be a calamity to our whole people to have all -of this great grove wiped out by ax and fire, as -has occurred near Eureka. The redwood groves -already reserved do not and can not match the -Del Norte forests in beauty and suitability as a -natural playground. Here one can camp under -the giants trees and live near to nature indeed, -nor will he be troubled by such pests as flies, mosquitoes, -scorpions, rattlesnakes, and the like, for -they are almost unknown in this section. From -our own observation we can heartily second the -declaration of a local writer to the effect <span class="locked">that—</span></p> - -<p>“The importance of this proposed Redwood -Park to Humboldt and Del Norte Counties, the -State of California, and to the whole of North -America, even to the whole world, can scarcely -be estimated. Within comparatively a few generations -the giant redwood forests of California -will be a thing of the past; the woodsman’s -ax and the ravenous sawmills will have -swept them away, even as the great pine and -hardwood forests of Michigan and Wisconsin -have been wiped out of existence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span> -“A billion or more feet of these giant forests -preserved and protected for all time from destruction -will form a priceless heritage for future generations—one -of the greatest attractions California -will then have, for it will bring pilgrims -from all over the world. It will not be many -generations before all the virgin forests on the -North American Continent, save those protected -in national and other forest reserves will be wiped -out of existence.”</p> - -<p>It would be hard to express the chagrin -which we felt on looking from the window of -the Bay View Annex on the morning following -our arrival to find a heavy fog, almost -bordering on a drizzle, enveloping everything -and even shrouding the near-by ocean from view. -We were told that such fogs often lasted a week -or more, so it did not seem worth while to wait -another day at the Bay View in hope of clear -weather. We set out with the forlorn hope that -the fog might clear away as the sun rose higher.</p> - -<p>For the first four or five miles out of the -town we skimmed along over the most perfect -boulevard of our tour—a wide, perfectly level, -hard, smooth, dust-free surface, yet a road which -cost nothing per mile and never had an hour’s -work expended upon it by any man. It was the -hard, firm, ocean beach which we traversed, so -close to the sullen gray water that it lapped our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span> -wheels as we glided onward. And lo, we beheld, -skipping joyously along on this same beach our -unwelcome passenger of the previous day. He -had evidently begged or bought transportation -from Patrick’s Creek to Crescent City and was -now away on a hundred-mile hike to Eureka, -unless he could work his nerve on some passing -car as he did on us. Nothing daunted by his -rebuff at our parting, he cheerfully signified his -desire to continue with us for the day, but we -bade him hail and farewell without slackening -the car’s sharp pace.</p> - -<p>Our fine beach road ended all too soon in a -wild plunge through the soft deep sand to the -mainland, where we almost immediately began -the ascent of a stiff, long grade, winding with -many sharp turns through the closely standing -pines. About midway a large car was parked -with a broken axle, leaving barely room to -squeeze past. Time and again as we ascended -the mighty slope we came out upon bold headlands -which on clear days afford endless views -of the ocean a thousand feet or more below. We -could hear the angry swish of the sea among the -broken rocks at the base of the cliff, but the gray -mist hid it from our eager eyes. It was, indeed, -a disappointment, but we found some compensation -as we climbed still higher on the fern-banked -road. Near the summit we again entered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span> -the mighty redwoods which towered hundreds -of feet above us. We were rising above the fog -and the weirdly glorious effect of the sun’s rays -as they shot through the thin vapor among the -hoary trees was as fascinating as it is indescribable. -The forest monarchs seemed literally -ablaze with pale fire. The dull gray fog merged -into a silvery vapor which floated among the -titanic trunks and branches and long shafts of -light radiated from their tops like a mighty halo. -As we continued to ascend the air gradually -cleared and a sky of the intensest blue shone -above the trees—but it was only due to the altitude, -for, coming out on a headland, we beheld -the envious fog still shrouding the ocean far below. -The sullen booming of the surf and the -screams of sea birds came weirdly mingled from -the unseen deeps, giving a strange sensation of -mystery.</p> - -<p>Back into the mighty forest we turned and -for many miles followed the winding road, closely -bordered by the giant trees. The corduroy -on this road was in much better repair, some -of it being new and made of closely laid square -slabs. Here, again the riotous greenery beneath -the trees delighted and amazed us. Fern fronds -six feet long were common and moss, shrubbery, -and vines flourished in wild profusion everywhere. -We emerged on an open headland<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span> -covered with bronzed fern and scattered shrubs, -and strained our eyes for a glimpse of the silver -sea through the lightening mass of vapor and we -were rewarded with a faint shimmer here and -there. Then came more miles of redwoods -crowding the road so closely that we found difficulty -in passing another car which met us here. -The forest was strangely silent; we saw nothing -of bird or animal life and only the boom of the -ocean when we happened to come near the coast -broke upon the uncanny stillness.</p> - -<p>Again we came abruptly into the open and -a long, sinuous descent brought us to Requa, a -forlorn-looking little hamlet on the broad inlet -of the Klamath River. They told us that half -the people of the village were Indians and those -whom we saw wore white man’s clothes and had -the appearance of modest prosperity. Salmon -fishing and two canneries employ the population -during the fishing season. The wide, still river -is crossed by ferry, a rude barge propelled by a -gasoline launch, lashed alongside and capable of -carrying three or four cars.</p> - -<p>During our crossing our interest was -centered on the ferryman’s daughter, a little miss -of seven or eight summers, who swung on the -chain at the bow of the boat. Utterly unconscious -of her picturesque beauty or that she was -being observed, she made one of the most delightful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span> -studies we had seen in many a day and -made us long for the skill to execute a rapid -sketch. Her dark olive, oval face was regular and -pleasing in features and her cheeks were tinged -with red roses from the fresh sea air. Her heavy -black hair was woven in a long braid and coiled -about her head. She wore a plain slip of a dress -and her deft little fingers were working on a -head-dress of red and green cambric, which at -times she fitted over her raven tresses with the -air of a Fifth Avenue belle judging the merits -of the latest Parisian creation in millinery. Then -she removed it and eyed it critically; evidently -it did not meet her artistic ideals, for she ripped -it to pieces and began rearranging the brightly -colored scraps.</p> - -<p>We were so much interested in her beauty -and unconscious antics that we forgot all about -the broad, green river we were crossing and -therefore paused when we had scrambled up the -opposite bank to gaze up the valley. We saw -a noble stream, gleaming through the thin vapor -that hovered above it and sweeping far up the -canyon until it vanished in the densely wooded -hills. The picturesque valley is included in the -proposed Redwood National Park, which the -citizens of Northern California hope to see established -before the wholesale slaughter of these -forests is begun.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span> -We ran for a good many miles through a -flat, swampy country dotted with reedy lagoons, -re-entering the redwoods near the Humboldt -County line. We encountered a long, steady -ascent with grades up to twenty per cent, which -ultimately brought us to the ocean, which we -had left for a time. The road, with occasional -bends to the inland, followed the shore for the -remainder of our day’s run and presented a continual -panorama of delightful scenery. The sun -was still tempered by the soft white mists and -the ocean shone like burnished silver in the subdued -light. The shore is exceedingly rugged -and in many places out in the ocean were mighty -detached rocks upon which the incoming waves -broke into white, foaming masses.</p> - -<p>The redwoods continued for many miles—mighty, -symmetrical trees whose dimensions -were hard to realize, but many were twenty feet -in diameter and upwards of two hundred and -fifty feet in height. It was only by comparison -with some small object that their colossal size -could be realized; we had grown so used to the -gigantic that it palled upon our senses. Often -they grew in groups, two, three, or more stems -from a single base whose dimensions were simply -staggering. We could not contemplate the -majesty and beauty of these forest giants without -a tinge of sadness—we know that the railroad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span> -is daily creeping nearer and that unless -prompt measures are taken to protect them the -time is not far away when only burned and -blackened stumps will show where they stood, -as we saw nearer Eureka. We parted company -with them as one who leaves a very old and wise -friend whom he feels that he may never see again, -breathing meanwhile the prayer:</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O, forest Titans, may it be<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Long, long, ere man with steel and fire<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Comes hither on his errand dire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To end your centuried reverie.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>There were gayer colors on our road than -the dull browns and dark greens of the redwoods, -for along the creeks the maples flamed in -autumnal scarlet or glowed with yellow gold in -the dark forest aisles. We passed through occasional -open spaces, where we found belated wild -flowers in full bloom—the purple foxglove, -daisies, asters, and, more rarely, wild roses or -azaleas smiled on us from the roadside. Not all -the trees were redwoods, for we passed through -closely standing groves where spruce, hemlock, -and other varieties predominated.</p> - -<p>The road came close to the shore just before -we reached Orick, a small village whose inn is -a famous resort for hunters and fishermen, and -from a considerable eminence we looked down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span> -on Freshwater Lagoon, a fine body of water a -mile long, literally alive with wild fowl. It is -famous for its fishing, as are Big Lagoon and -Stone Lagoon, a few miles farther on. Here the -sportsman may take cut-throat and steel-head -trout to the law’s limit, often in an hour or two, -and all kinds of water fowl are plentiful in season. -In this vicinity also, they told us, is the best -quail shooting on the Pacific Coast—quite -enough to distress a devotee of rod and gun -whom circumstances forced to hurry onward. -There are splendid camping sites galore along -this road, sites which appealed even to ourselves, -who were never strongly predisposed to camp -life.</p> - -<p>Trinidad, the next hamlet, dates from -Spanish days, when it had the prefix of Puerto—for -it is located on a small but deep harbor, -where the early seafarers occasionally took -shelter. Remains of the old landing-place may -still be seen, but no ships disturb the quietude -of Trinidad to-day. There is a rustic resort inn -here which caters to summer visitors and sportsmen.</p> - -<p>So far the road has been natural dirt, ranging -from fair to good, and the grades, though -often considerable, have not been at all troublesome -to the big car. At Trinidad we caught up -with the stage which left Crescent City some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span> -time ahead of us, and were interested to find -that the cars which make this trip nearly every -day in the year were of the same manufacture -as our own.</p> - -<p>Beyond Trinidad the road had mostly been -surfaced and some of it was really excellent. -The country, however, for some miles was dismal, -indeed. Here was every evidence of a great -forest fire of comparatively recent occurrence. -Great blackened trunks were still standing, interspersed -with stumps which showed that the country -had been at least partially lumbered before -the fire. The effect was melancholy and depressing, -indeed, and brought to mind passages of -Dante’s Inferno. A few poor little houses, many -of them deserted, were scattered at intervals -among the blackened stumps, and there were -occasional cultivated patches of ground. No -doubt the soil is excellent, but it will be many -years before the giant stumps can be cleared -away and the great holes left when they are -burned or dynamited, filled up. We noted on -our maps that we were to cross Mad River and -imagined a dashing cataract in keeping with the -name. We found the most prosaic of tide-water -streams, level and almost stagnant, and the -name, we were told, only referred to a quarrel -between some early settlers in the section.</p> - -<p>As we approached Arcata, fourteen miles<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span> -by road from Eureka, though only half that distance -directly across the bay, the country took -on a much more prosperous look. The farm -houses were neat with carefully kept lawns, and -the well-cultivated fields ran down to the seashore. -Arcata is a clean, bright-looking town, -due to free application of paint to the wooden -buildings, for wooden buildings are almost universal. -A new eighty-thousand-dollar hotel was -pointed to with due pride and one might do quite -as well to stop here as in Eureka.</p> - -<p>Beyond Arcata fine, level, dairy land prevails, -fit for grazing the greater part of the year, and -Humboldt County butter is quite as famous as -that of Del Norte. Much of this land was originally -forested with redwoods, and its splendid -state of reclamation at present indicates that the -forlorn, fire-blackened section we passed some -miles back may have a future before it, after all. -Huge redwood stumps remained along the road, -each of them bearing a little garden of greenery -flourishing upon the decay. The heavy rainfall -of winter and the continual fogs of summer keep -vegetation thrifty and green almost the entire -year.</p> - -<p>The road from Arcata skirts the shores of -Humboldt Bay, which is nearly land-locked by -a slender spit of sand. It is a good-sized body -of water, some fourteen miles long and deep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span> -enough for ocean-going vessels, but an exceedingly -treacherous coast in the vicinity militates -against it as a harbor. A few days before our -arrival a large steamer had gone to pieces on the -rocks near by and a few months later a submarine -and the cruiser Milwaukee, which undertook -to rescue it, were both destroyed in this -neighborhood.</p> - -<p>Our first impression on coming into the -business part of Eureka was of surprise to see -a city of its size and importance almost wholly -constructed of wood. The business blocks were -nearly all of redwood, sometimes painted and -carved to resemble stone, and the hotels, including -the Vance, where we stopped, were of the -same material. Of course, this is not so strange -when one considers that redwood is by far the -cheapest and most accessible building stuff in -this region, but it is hard to associate permanence -and substantial construction with huge wooden -blocks in the business section of the city.</p> - -<p>We reached our hotel about four o’clock, -having been just eight hours in covering the -ninety-four miles from Crescent City, including -the half-hour we stopped for lunch—practically -the same time occupied by the stages in making -the trip. This may seem pretty slow, but it is -all one should expect on this road if he adheres -to sane and conservative driving.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span> -The Vance, despite the rather unfavorable -impression made by its wooden exterior, proved -well-appointed and comfortable inside. A large, -cozily furnished, steam-heated room proved a -pleasant haven after a chilly ride—for the wind -had blown strongly all day from the sea, and -when out of the shelter of the forest, it brought -our whole supply of wraps and robes into use. -The Vance was the only commercial hotel which -we found operating on the “American plan” -since leaving San Francisco, and its service -throughout was very satisfactory, though its -rates could not be classed as cheap. We should -say, however, that a thoroughly modern hotel -of approved construction would find a fine opening -in Eureka.</p> - -<p>We found time before dinner to look about -the city, which was gaily decorated in bunting -and evergreens for an Elks’ Convention to begin -the next day. In fact, we had been warned that -our lease on our room at the hotel could continue -only for the night and our plan of taking a full -day’s lay-off at Eureka was thus frustrated. As -usual in isolated California towns of any size, -the shops and mercantile establishments generally -seemed entirely to outclass the population -figures, which in case of Eureka are not claimed -to exceed fifteen thousand. Like our hotel, the -interior of the business buildings was usually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span> -much more attractive than the exterior, and it -was apparent that the merchants of the town -were prepared to take care of all reasonable -needs of the inhabitants as well as of transitory -visitors. The necessity of this is easily apparent -when we recall that San Francisco, the nearest -city larger than Eureka, is two hundred and -eighty-five miles distant—twelve hours’ ride over -the recently completed railway. For Eureka at -last has a railway, after having for many years -enjoyed—or rather endured—the undesirable -distinction of being the largest town in the -United States without railroad service. The -Northwest Pacific “Scenic Route” reached the -town in 1915 and has the distinction, it is said, -of being by far the costliest railroad of its length -in America, an average of one hundred and -thirty thousand dollars per mile having been -expended in its construction. For nearly half its -length it threads its way through the gigantic -canyon of the Eel River, following the stream -so closely that it is seldom out of sight. The -scenery along this road, a local authority insists, -is hardly to be surpassed in the whole country.</p> - -<p>“As the train passes over the Eel River -Divide, the Pacific, thirty miles distant, is seen, -shimmering in the sunlight across a stretch of -mighty wooded hills. As the descent along the -upper Eel River Valley begins, the views become<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span> -more and more entrancing. No mountain scenery -in the foothills of the Swiss Alps is more -beautiful than that which greets the traveler’s -eyes along the Eel River.”</p> - -<p>Perhaps such a digression on the scenery -from a railroad train is out of place in a motor-travel -book, but it may be permitted, possibly, -in view of the fact that a far greater number of -people go to Eureka by train than motor. And -those who come by motor, if they pursue the -Bell Springs route, will see the same Eel River -scenery from even grander viewpoints, since in -places the wagon road rises thousands of feet -above the railway.</p> - -<p>Greater numbers of motor cars will come to -Eureka when the new state highway is completed, -since the two old roads from the south -are as difficult and dangerous as any in California -and are considered quite impassable, even -for horse-drawn vehicles, when the rains set in. -Hence, before the completion of the railroad -Eureka was quite cut off from communication -with the rest of the world except by the sea and -often violent storms rendered even that route -precarious. Under such conditions it is marvelous -that such an energetic, thriving city could -have sprung up. One of the present roads closely -follows the coast through Fort Bragg and Garberville, -a poorly-kept and little used trail, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span> -the other, farther inland, roughly follows the -railroad, crossing the famous Bell Springs grade, -which the state highway commission describes -as “long the terror of motorists.” The new highway -avoids this and will afford a year-round -access to the city over safe and easy grades. It -will also continue to Crescent City, placing the -Humboldt and Del Norte redwoods within easy -reach of motorists, all of whom should exert -their influence to secure the proposed national -park in this section.</p> - -<p>Eureka was founded in 1850 by American -settlers. The Spaniards appear to have overlooked -this harbor and so far as known no ship -entered it prior to 1806, when Captain Winship, -a fur trader, who learned of the existence of the -bay from the Indians, anchored his ship in its -sheltered waters. The career of the town has -been a quiet one, not even the customary Indian -wars disturbing its serenity. There are memories, -however, of two distinguished Americans, -for Lieut. Ulysses S. Grant was at one time stationed -at old Fort Humboldt, slight remains of -which may still be seen. It was also in Eureka -where the youthful Bret Harte began his career -as a journalist—officiating as compositor, printer’s -devil, and assistant editor of the “Northern -California,” then published in the town. Here -he had a rather thrilling experience which might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span> -have cost the world one of its rarest literary -geniuses—and actually cost him his job on the -paper.</p> - -<p>During the absence of the editor, he was -left in charge of the paper—like Mark Twain -under similar circumstances—and, like Mark, he -at once proceeded to break over conventions. -Outrages of the Whites against the Indians of -the surrounding country were then common and -were usually winked at by the editor, who -thought more of the support of the citizens than -the rights of the red man. A particularly -cowardly massacre was perpetrated while -Harte was in charge of the paper. Just -how cowardly may be judged from a letter -of one of the offenders, who declared, “We -have been searching the mountains, destroying -villages, killing all males we could -find, and capturing the women and children. We -have killed about thirty altogether and now have -twenty-eight captives in camp.” No one hated -injustice and cruelty more than Bret Harte and -in an editorial he scathingly condemned the -murderers. This roused the anger of the community -and a mob gathered with the avowed -purpose of wrecking the newspaper plant and -hanging the youthful scribe. Harte showed -himself game to the last degree and held the -mob at bay with two cocked pistols during probably<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span> -the longest evening of his life. The timely -arrival of a few cavalrymen from the fort probably -saved his life, but his love of justice brought -him a quick dismissal on the return of the owner -of the paper. Perhaps this experience, after all, -was a God-send to Harte’s budding genius. Had -things gone too smoothly in his first essay at -journalism he might have missed the rich experience -that came of his nomadic career among the -pioneer mining camps and settled down into the -quiet ways of a backwoods editor.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="IX" class="vspace">IX<br /> - -<span class="subhead">EUREKA TO CLOVERDALE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>A very dull morning with streets and walks -wet from a light, drizzling rain greeted our dismayed -vision as we hastily glanced from the -hotel windows on rising. The hotel people had -duly warned us that they hadn’t a corner left -for us for the coming night and we counted it -very likely that every hotel and lodging house -in Eureka was just as “full up,” as the English -say. Furthermore, there was no assurance if it -once began to rain that it would let up for a -week, for week-long rains are to be expected in -Humboldt County in season. And from all we -could learn, a long-continued rain meant no -thoroughfare for heavy cars through the mountains -to the south.</p> - -<div id="ip_216" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 32em;"> - <img src="images/i299.jpg" width="507" height="380" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SAND DUNES ON THE NORTH COAST</p> - -<p>From painting by N. Hagerup</p></div></div> - -<p>We had a little official information concerning -the road over which we must pass, for a -bulletin of the California Highway Commission -declared, “Eureka can be reached during the -summer months only under the most strenuous -conditions by means of the road from San Francisco -over the summit of the Bell Springs Mountain, -elevation 4100 feet above the sea level.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span> -After the first rains the road is impassable for -motors and even horse-drawn vehicles, traffic on -the route being limited to saddle and pack animals. -At Dyerville an ascent of 3937 feet begins -up and down grades as high as thirty per cent -to the summit, a distance of forty-six miles. The -descent, up and down grades exceeding twenty -per cent, occupies a distance of twelve miles and -ends at the foot of ‘Rattlesnake Grade,’ 2686 -feet below. The high altitudes on the route -afford magnificent views of the surrounding -country in all directions, though the average -tourist would no doubt gladly forego the scenic -advantages of the Bell Springs Mountain to -travel a less strenuous route. The terror of the -Bell Springs Mountain, however, in the near future -will exist only in memory; the pioneer road -of Northern California will be superseded by the -Coast Line of the new highway system.”</p> - -<p>But all this cheerful prospect for the future -could not shorten the Bell Springs road one foot -or reduce its frightful grades a single inch so -far as we were concerned. It lay before us with -all its terror and mystery and it was an even -gamble whether the heavy clouds would break -away or the drizzle settle down into a steady -rain. We tried to realize what a thirty per cent -grade was really like; we had passed twenty and -possibly twenty-five per cent slopes on our trip.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span> -“But a thirty per cent grade,” said the dismayed -lady member of the expedition, “that’s one third -of straight up. Will any car do that?” She was -assured that most cars could accomplish this feat -if working well and under favorable conditions, -but in a rain—the possible consequences were -not pleasant to contemplate.</p> - -<p>We descended to breakfast in a mood of -gloomy indecision. It seemed imperative for us -to leave Eureka in any event. We had instructed -our driver to be ready at eight o’clock and he -was on hand with his usual promptness.</p> - -<p>“Will she do a thirty per cent grade?” I -asked jokingly, knowing his unwavering faith in -the Pierce.</p> - -<p>“She’ll do anything she can get traction on,” -he said, “but in the mud—” So his thought was -the same as our own, but what was the use pursuing -an unpleasant subject?</p> - -<p>“We’ve four wheel chains, in any event,” I -said and the big car glided forth as calmly as -if an unbroken boulevard stretched to the metropolis.</p> - -<p>As I look back at it now, I must admit that -we committed an act of egregious folly in setting -out on this trip in face of what looked like -an all-day rain. If it had been an all-day rain -we might have been marooned many days in -these mighty hills, if, indeed, we had not met<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span> -with deadly disaster of some sort. Even as it -was, we had occasion for real anxiety more than -once, as will appear in due course of my story. -We felt that if the outlook grew more threatening -we could stop at Fortuna, another small -wooden town twenty miles distant, where fair -accommodations may be had.</p> - -<p>The twenty miles proved over the best of -roads through a level, well-improved country, -and when we drove down the main street of the -village we were rejoiced to see that the sky had -lightened somewhat and the rain almost ceased. -A garage man still farther reassured us. “Going -to clear off,” he declared in response to our query -on weather probabilities as our gasoline tank -was being filled to the limit. “O, yes, it would -be an ugly job if it should rain, but it ain’t going -to rain,” which cheerful assurance we accepted -and following his directions proceeded on a road -which, besides its real danger in wet weather, -proved to afford no decent accommodations for -over fifty miles.</p> - -<p>Just beyond Fortuna we passed a large, -deep pool in the Eel River which is said to afford -unequalled sport for fishermen, King Solomon, -steel-head, and mountain trout being taken in -large numbers even by inexperienced anglers. A -number of summer cottages have been built here<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span> -and the place shows increasing popularity as a -summer resort.</p> - -<p>We found the new state highway usable -between Alton, four miles farther on, and Dyerville, -thus enabling us to avoid the hills via Rio -Dell and Pepperwood, which have some heavy -grades ranging up to twenty-five per cent. The -new road was pretty rough and soft in places, -as no surfacing had yet been done. A fine new -bridge across the Eel was building near Alton, -but it was not yet open and a very tortuous detour -through deep sand was necessary. Beyond -the river we continued for many miles through -closely standing redwoods—great columnar -trees which would have excited our wonder and -admiration to a greater degree had we not seen -the more imposing forests of the north.</p> - -<p>At Dyerville, a wretched-looking little -hamlet of half a dozen buildings, we bade farewell -to the new highway. It had been completed -some distance beyond this point, but a gap of -thirty miles remained to be bridged before it -could supersede the Bell Springs road. The new -highway follows the south fork of the Eel River -and gradually rises until it joins the present road -at Cummings, elevation 1414 feet, sixty-nine -miles from Dyerville. This will entirely avoid -the Bell Springs Mountain and eliminate a climb -and descent of nearly three thousand feet. Construction<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span> -was in progress at the time of our visit -and the new bond issue insures the completion -of the work, which may be accomplished before -my book sees the light. Tourists of the future, -with rarest exceptions, will speed over the new -boulevard and the Bell Springs road will fall into -disuse. We shall always be glad, however—now -that it is safely over—that circumstances -forced us to climb the rugged mountain, since -from its slopes and summit we beheld some of -the wildest and most beautiful panoramas to be -seen in all California.</p> - -<p>Heavy work began immediately after we -crossed the river at Dyerville. A long grade -zigzagged up the slope of the mountain, closely -following the Eel for several miles and affording -many magnificent panoramas of the river and -rugged ranges of wooded hills that guard it on -either hand. Splendid pines crowded closely up -to the narrow road and did much to lessen the -nervous effects of the long, sharp slope at our -side. At the turns of the road, however, there -were frequent open spaces which allowed views -of ever-increasing grandeur as we ascended; the -river, far below, lay in still, green pools or dashed -in foaming rapids among the lichen-covered -boulders. Beyond were endless hill ranges, -cloud-swept here and there, for, though the rain -had ceased, the sky was still threatening.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span> -A long descent brought us to the railroad; -then the road swung away from the river and -followed the crest of the ridge between the Eel -and South Fork for the remainder of the day. -Another long, heavy grade confronted us with -two sharp “hairpin” turns which some facetious -wayfarer has dubbed “The Devil’s Elbow,” and -we recalled that we had passed a hill in the -Scotch Highlands where a like honor had been -paid to His Satanic Majesty. We thought the -latter bad enough at the time, but it was tame -when compared with the twists and grades of -this far western trail. The long wheel base of -our car made it necessary to back up at several -of the turns, an operation which excited lively -anxiety on part of our lady passenger. It was -disquieting, indeed, to see the rear wheel of the -car approach within a foot or two of the high -bank at the side of the turn with a twenty per -cent slope looming ahead, but the car responded -so beautifully to the skill of the driver that she -gradually became reassured.</p> - -<p>The forest gradually dwindled and beyond -Fruitland—there was little except the name on -the map to indicate the existence of such a place—we -came into a barren, desolate-looking region -with little vegetation except scrub trees and -shrubs, through which the road kept a general -ascent, though there were occasional downward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span> -dips. At the foot of one of these we ran on to -a most disconsolate party in a Ford which had -been stalled for some hours for lack of gasoline. -Only one car had passed and the occupants had -declined assistance on the ground that they -feared a shortage of the very necessary fluid -themselves.</p> - -<p>“Then I hired a horse,” said the driver, “of -the man on the hill yonder and one of our ladies -visited the three other houses in this little valley, -but couldn’t scare up a pint of gas at any of -them. I’ll pay you any price you ask for a gallon -or two.”</p> - -<p>We freely confessed that price wasn’t the -consideration—we feared a shortage ourselves -on some of the hills before us. Our car was -gravity-fed and it might fail on a steep grade -with several gallons in the tank. Still, the obligations -of the Golden Rule weighed heavily upon -us in such a case and we granted our friend in -distress the two gallons he so earnestly prayed -for. We declined the dollar he tried to force -upon us on the ground that we were not helping -him out for worldly gain—we only hoped we -wouldn’t run short ourselves.</p> - -<p>He assured us that it was only ten miles -over a level road to Harris, where he had carelessly -neglected to replenish his supply, but I -fear that his predicament warped his judgment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span> -of distance. It proved a full twenty miles with -many steep pitches which caused us no little -anxiety and which continually increased, for -Harris seemed constantly to recede as we cautiously -proceeded over a road that varied from -fair to very bad. There were many stony -stretches where the car scrambled over good-sized -boulders still wet from the mists that at -intervals swept across the mountains. It was a -wild and lonely road, with no sign of human -habitation for many miles; only the long views -across the rugged hills redeemed it from dreary -monotony.</p> - -<p>At one point four fine does contemplated -us curiously and with little sign of fear, at a -distance of perhaps sixty yards; they, too, -seemed to realize that woman’s rights in California -are even extended to deer—there is a -heavy fine for killing a doe. We were told that -these hills are alive with deer, but the exceedingly -rugged nature of the country makes hunting -very difficult. The road constantly grew -more tortuous and arduous and we made many -remarks about the tendency of Harris to recede -as we advanced—we even began to wonder if we -might not have passed it unaware. It was, -therefore, with no small relief that we beheld -Harris finally heave in sight, but our reviving -spirits dropped when we saw a sign posted on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span> -the hotel, which is all there is of Harris, “Positively -closed for the season,” and could detect -no sign of life about the place. Was our expected -gasoline supply to fail here with the Bell -Springs Mountain now directly before us? A -reconnoissance of the place, however, discovered -the man in charge, who gleefully filled our tank -with forty-cent gas and our apprehensions vanished -into thin air.</p> - -<p>While we were engaged in this transaction, -a Ford car paused and began to disgorge its -contents under a group of trees near by—said -contents consisting of six people and two dogs, -and an endless array of camping and other impedimenta -was strapped to the machine at every -available projection, almost concealing it from -view. An old-fashioned, tin-covered trunk was -fastened at the rear and several grips were piled -about the engine hood. The wonder of it was -that the flimsy-looking car could stand up under -it all, even though two of the passengers were -rather small children and the dogs not very large. -The party proceeded at once to build a fire; a -warm dinner and hot coffee were evidently on -the program—which reminded us that we had -neglected to provide ourselves with our usual -lunch on leaving Eureka. The man who supplied -gasoline assured us that we would find an -excellent hotel still open at Bell Springs, twelve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span> -miles farther on; we ought to reach it in an hour, -he thought.</p> - -<p>“O, yes, some pretty stiff going, to be sure, -but nothing to worry that wagon of yours, I -guess,” he said.</p> - -<p>It proved a steep, stony, winding, wicked -dozen miles with one thirty per cent pitch, according -to our road maps, all of which drawbacks -were mightily accentuated in our minds -when the rain commenced again shortly after we -left Harris. Tire chains were brought into -requisition and after a steady grind of an hour -and a quarter, enlivened by no end of nervous -thrills, we paused with steaming radiator in -front of the attractive-looking Bell Springs Inn. -It was about two o’clock and twenty-three miles -from Laytonville, where we proposed, rather -dubiously, to stop for the night.</p> - -<p>“Here’s our only chance for luncheon,” I -announced—a matter which a very early and -very light breakfast at Eureka no doubt served -to keep in my mind.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want any lunch,” came from the -rear seat. “I want to get out of these terrible -hills just as quickly as we possibly can. Whatever -induced you to choose this awful road? You -always seem to find the worst possible.” To all -of which no adequate answer came to my mind.</p> - -<p>With a lingering look at the hotel, I gave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span> -the word to proceed, not without considerable -misgiving, for it was still raining and the information -which we had of the road was far from -reassuring. True, it was down hill most of the -way, but my experience was that it is easier to -climb a muddy grade than to descend one. The -descent began shortly after leaving the hotel -and for some miles we proceeded with extreme -caution down narrow switchbacks with sharp -turns, some of which required backing. The -scenery was magnificent, rugged slopes covered -with gigantic pines which often came up to the -roadside—but I confess that we did not pay -enough attention to the scenery to warrant much -descriptive writing. The road grew muddier -with the incessant rain and as we came to the -steep pitches of Rattlesnake Grade, the car -showed an unmistakable tendency to skid, despite -the chains on the rear wheels. Few things -are so likely to make one’s heart sink as the feeling -that a heavy car is not entirely under control -on a steep grade, barely wider than the wheels, -with a sharp turn on the verge of a precipice -every few rods. We stopped and applied chains -to the front wheels as well, but even then a tendency -to slide on the grades was still noticeable -and extreme caution was necessary. And yet -the showers had only “greased” the road; I do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span> -not believe any car could negotiate these grades -in a heavy rain.</p> - -<p>Fortune, however, favored us for once, since -the rain ceased just as we were wondering if we -might not have to spend a supperless night on -the road—which we certainly should have been -compelled to do had conditions grown much -worse. There was a rustic hotel at Cummings, -at the foot of Rattlesnake Grade, but in order -to carry out our plans for the following day, we -felt it advisable to push on to Laytonville, though -we realized that night would overtake us before -we arrived. We had consumed nearly three -hours in covering the twelve miles from Bell -Springs, but we hoped to make better time over -the thirteen miles still remaining—which we did, -as the road was quite dry, though excruciatingly -stony and rough. There was one heavy grade, -but in the main we followed a canyon with a -gradual descent. The road was so narrow that -we found great difficulty in passing a belated car -which we met, and so rough that a snail’s pace -was enforced much of the way.</p> - -<p>The canyon was heavily wooded; vines and -shrubbery, rich with autumn colorings, grew in -rank profusion. Despite the lateness of the season, -there were occasional blooms. We saw dogwood -and wild rosebushes bearing both blossoms -and bright red berries. Huckleberries were common,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span> -as were also the pale red clusters of the -honeysuckle, and manzanitas. The air was -fragrant with the odor of balsam pine and we -felt that it would be a delightful run had we not -been tired, cold, and hungry. But very tired, -cold, and hungry we were and the last few miles -done in the dark before we reached Laytonville -were long ones, indeed. It was a time when a -truly comfortable inn would be as welcome as -ever in our wanderings, but we did not hope for -such a blessing in Laytonville, an isolated little -village of about a hundred people.</p> - -<p>The hotel proved a large, wooden building, -much larger than the size of the place would lead -one to expect, but comforts and conveniences, besides -bed and board, were not to be found in its -brown, clapboarded walls. No private bath was -to be had and no heat in the rooms, though the -night was frosty cold. There was a big wood-stove -in the public room which was surrounded -three or four deep by a crowd made up, I should -judge, of village loafers, though there were a few -commercial men among them. It was certainly -not very inviting for a lady guest and the moving-picture -show with which we usually beguiled -away dull evenings, was non-existent in Laytonville. -Evidently the best program for us was to -eat our supper and go to bed. The evening meal, -served at a common table in country style,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span> -proved far better than we expected. In fact, the -pastry was so excellent that our lady manager -must needs have the recipe, which the flattered -cook was delighted to supply.</p> - -<p>After supper I stumbled along the unlighted -street to a little general store, hoping to find a -hot-water bottle to mitigate the rigors of the climate -a little, but the queer old backwoodsman -storekeeper declared,</p> - -<p>“I’ve heern of them things, but I never had -no call for one.”</p> - -<p>The store was the queerest jumble I ever -saw, groceries, clothing, dry goods, hardware, -patent medicines—just a little of each—and endless -odds and ends that looked as if they had -been twenty-five years accumulating, were piled -in hopeless confusion—there seemed a chance of -finding anything but what you wanted.</p> - -<p>“Yaas,” the old fellow admitted, “thar’s another -store in the town, just down the street—just -down the street.”</p> - -<p>The other store was closed, but the next day -we found it a large, well-stocked mercantile concern -which evidently did a big volume of business.</p> - -<p>Returning to the hotel, I lounged half an -hour about the lobby, listening to the conversation, -which I soon found was almost wholly made -up of humorous anecdotes of the old storekeeper<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span> -whom I had just visited and who appeared to be -a character of considerable local notoriety—an -honest, simple-minded old fellow fitter for almost -anything than managing a business.</p> - -<p>If it was hard to get into the chilly bed at the -Laytonville, it was still harder to get up by twilight -in the frosty air of the room and wash in -ice-cold water—for there was no call bell and we -neglected to leave orders for hot water. We -rushed through with the process, however, thinking -we would hurry down and thaw out by the -big wood-stove, but we found it stone cold and -the room deserted—and it is safe to say that -thousands of cords of wood were rotting within -a mile of the inn. The lady indignantly marched -into the kitchen, somewhat to the consternation -of the powers that presided there—but it was -not long until a big fire was roaring in the lobby -stove.</p> - -<p>A sign above the counter admonished the -wayfarer thirsting for information to “Ask Dad—he -knows,” referring to the portly landlord, -whom we found very jovial and accommodating. -He apologized for lack of fire in the morning -with some remark about the unreasonable -“stumpage” charge of the people who owned the -forest about the place and he also deprecated the -unwillingness of the owner of the building to do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span> -a number of things that would conduce to the -comfort of the guests.</p> - -<p>When we asked “Dad” about the road to -Westport and from thence along the coast, we -found he did “know,” all right, for he assured -us that it was far better than the main highway -to the south. And so we resolved to get back -to the sea, for the morning had cleared beautifully -and gave promise of a day full of light and -color. It is twenty miles to Westport and the -road runs through a fine forest all the way, -though the redwoods, which are quite common, -are only saplings five or six feet in diameter. -There is only one grade of consequence—the -long descent to the coast, which affords many -glorious views of the ocean through occasional -openings in the trees.</p> - -<p>Westport is a small, bleak-looking lumber -town, evidently in a state of decline; there was -nothing to detain us there and we were quickly -away on the road to the south, which keeps in -sight of the ocean for more than one hundred -miles, though we were told that it was not then -practicable for motors for more than half that -distance. The excellence of the road for perhaps -thirty miles was an agreeable surprise, a smooth, -well graded natural dirt surface very much like a -well-dragged Iowa road at its very best—fine in -dry weather, but to be avoided when it rains.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span> -We skimmed merrily along, enjoying the -salt tang of the breeze and the beauty of Old -Ocean in one of his happiest moods. We ran -along rather barren-looking headlands, which at -times carried us to wonderful vantage-points -from which we beheld indescribably glorious -views of the sea, resplendent under the pale blue -sky of a perfect day. The breeze had swept away -the lingering ghosts of yesterday’s fog, revealing -a shimmering expanse of water, jade-green near -the shore and running through all the shades of -green and blue into a deep violet in the far distance. -Looking toward the sun it shimmered -and coruscated like a sea of molten silver, while -along the whole irregular shoreline around -the detached rocks and beneath the bold, -rugged headlands it rippled in long white -breakers or dashed into wind-swept spray. -The air was redolent with the fresh, -pungent smell of the sea—how we enjoy it when -on land and detest it when on shipboard!—and -everything conspired to make us glad that we -had made the necessary detour to catch this -glorious stretch of Mendocino coast.</p> - -<p>Fort Bragg, of some three thousand people, -seventeen miles from Westport, is the largest -and best-appearing town, with handsome public -buildings and good-looking shops—clearly the -chief business and trading center of this section.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span> -It is the terminus of a branch of the Northern -Pacific Railroad leading to the main line at -Willits, which is doubtless the secret of its superiority -to the other coast towns we passed -through. It is larger than Ukiah, the county -seat, which probably holds the distinction because -of its more central situation.</p> - -<p>Beyond Fort Bragg we crossed several -shallow, emerald-green inlets at the mouth of -creek or river, both the descent and the climb -a sharp scramble. Three or four of the larger -inlets were dammed to a considerable depth and -logs were floated from the interior to a busy sawmill -near the sea. The coast, however, with the -exception of a few picturesque little groves near -the sea, is quite denuded of timber. There are -a good many farm-houses, some of very comfortable -appearance, but the agricultural resources -of the country did not impress us as very great. -The reddish brown soil did not give any special -indication of fertility and live stock was not -much in evidence. Directly on the coast in places -there is a wide belt of sand dunes which are -slowly shifting landward and encroaching on the -farms a little each year.</p> - -<div id="ip_234" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 32em;"> - <img src="images/i319.jpg" width="508" height="381" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>THE MENDOCINO COAST</p> - -<p>From painting by N. Hagerup</p></div></div> - -<p>Mendocino City, the next place of any size, -is a rather bleak, un-American-looking village of -a thousand people. Here we paused for lunch -at a large, rambling, wooden hotel which must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span> -have been a lively place in the old lumbering and -stage-coach days. Now it seemed almost deserted -and the well-worn floor of its dismantled -bar-room told of the loss of a goodly number of -patrons who were formerly wont to come here -to assuage their thirst. It was with some misgivings -that we entered the place, but the sight -of the cleanly, kindly-faced landlady reassured -us; and we fared far better than we hoped for in -the scrupulously clean dining-room—which led -us to again remark on the extremely rare instances -where we have found slovenly service or -niggardly meals in even the lesser California -hotels. The young man who acted as clerk, -when he heard that we expected to reach Cloverdale -for the night, advised us not to go as far -on the coast road as Greenwood, which we -planned, but to turn inland at Navarro, six miles -north—a change which he declared would save -us some bad road.</p> - -<p>We had not gotten far from Mendocino -when we agreed that it was not especially desirable -to pursue the coast road any farther than -necessary, for we found it quite unimproved, -dusty, and rough, with very steep grades—especially -the one leading out of the deep canyon -just south of the town. After that, every few -miles we met with sharp plunges into deep, narrow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span> -canyons, and steep, dusty scrambles out of -them, with some very rough going between.</p> - -<p>At Little River and Albion, large sawmills -were in operation. The former village is a pretty -little place, with rose-embowered cottages and -apple orchards laden with red and golden globes. -The schoolhouse is situated in a group of fragrant -pines and everything combined to give the -village an air of Arcadian quiet and contentment. -Perhaps much of this was only in our imagination, -but we did not disturb our pleasant impressions -by making useless inquiries.</p> - -<p>The coast beyond the village was exceedingly -rugged but beautiful and inspiring. Bold, -wooded headlands rose above us, a deep violet -sea lay in quiet beauty beneath, and we even -had to admit that the inlets, with their steep -plunges and rattle-trap bridges, were beautiful. -Here is, indeed, a country for our artists to discover; -they will find the color and rugged beauty -of Monterey on a wilder and vaster scale. In -fact, we often remarked that the whole coast -from Greenwood to Crescent City, with its colorful -ocean, its rugged, rock-bound shoreline, its -giant forests, and a thousand other sights of -beauty and grandeur, offers a field for the landscape -painter such as scarcely exists elsewhere -in the world.</p> - -<p>Albion seems the busiest place we have yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span> -discovered. Its excuse for being is a great sawmill -which employs several hundred men and -which is supplied with logs by the river and a -railroad extending twenty miles into the hills. -The shriek of the saws, the hiss of steam, and -the rumble of the locomotive, reached us before -we descended the steep slope to the inlet upon -which the mill is located, and gave us an intimation -of the principal activity of the town. There -is a pretty little bay into which the river flows -and a substantial wharf from which the finished -lumber is shipped by schooner. In crossing the -river we passed directly through the sawmill -yards and had a near view of its giant band-saws -traveling through the mighty logs at an astonishing -rate.</p> - -<p>Two or three miles beyond Albion we came -to Navarro, which we found a “deserted village,” -indeed, for not a human being could be found -about the few gray, weatherbeaten shacks to give -us the information we desired about the road. -A little farther on, however, a friendly signboard -made it clear that this was the point where the -hotel clerk had advised us to turn inland. The -coast road had been growing continually more -wretched and the deep canyon before us did not -look very inviting. Besides, it was getting late -and to go on to Greenwood would bring us to -Cloverdale after dark. We therefore bade a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span> -reluctant farewell to the glorious ocean—it -seemed as if we could never tire of it—and struck -the sandy trail that led sharply into a jungle of -small trees and shrubbery. The deep sand and -the apparent disuse of the road caused us some -apprehension. The road, however, gradually -improved as it descended to the Navarro River, -passing several poor-looking fruit ranches on -the way.</p> - -<p>The grade out of the canyon is one of the -longest and heaviest that we covered during our -entire tour. It has few turns, climbing the canyon -side in a straight slope several miles long, -at places the rise exceeding twenty-five per cent. -It seemed as if it would never end and we grew -very apprehensive of our gasoline supply, which -we expected to replenish at Greenwood, now -eliminated from our route. I confidently looked -for the engine to stall for lack of fuel on some -of these appalling grades, and whiled the time -in imagining what course we should pursue if -this happened. I did not reach any satisfactory -conclusion, nor have I yet, for we did not meet -another car on this road and the nearest gas -station was twenty miles away. But it didn’t -happen and we replenished our supply at one of -the little towns. There were three or four villages -on the fifty-mile stretch between the coast -and Cloverdale, all of them rather dilapidated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">239</span> -and forlorn, though there was much activity at -Boonville, where a huge sawmill was in operation. -None of the numerous ranches along the -road looked very prosperous and perhaps half of -the houses were deserted and falling into ruin. -This, we were told, did not necessarily mean that -the owner had starved out. A great many of -them, after “proving up” their claims, had sold -out to the large ranchers, who were buying immense -tracts in this country.</p> - -<p>There was much pretty scenery along the -way, rich with autumnal colorings which we -might have admired more had we been more -comfortable ourselves. But the road was rough -and dusty and the wind had risen to a perfect -gale which chilled us for all our wraps and -blankets. A car was ahead of us for the last -several miles and almost strangled us with dust -clouds so dense that even trying to pass was out -of the question.</p> - -<p>We rejoiced with exceeding joy when eight -miles from Cloverdale we came into the new -state highway, smooth and dust-free. Our -chance friend at Crater Lake Lodge had especially -admonished us to stop at McCray’s when -we reached Cloverdale, and had noted on our -maps, “Very comfortable country inn two miles -out of Cloverdale.” So we kept a sharp lookout, -for a “very comfortable inn” seemed about the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span> -acme of our earthly desires at that particular -time. We had no difficulty in finding our proposed -haven, for a huge, rambling frame building -bearing the legend, “McCray’s,” loomed up -directly by the roadside and we were received -more like expected guests of the family than -commercial patrons.</p> - -<p>There was a decided atmosphere of home -about the rambling old place—originally the McCray -Homestead—and one very quickly falls in -with the mood of good fellowship that rules -everybody connected with the inn. We were -ushered into the family sitting-room with its -roaring, open fireplace—welcome, indeed, after -our ride in the piercing wind—and were cordially -greeted by Father McCray, a six-foot-two giant -whom the younger generation designated as -“Pap.” He introduced us to the other guests, -mainly members and close friends of the family, -for the season was over, though the inn is kept -open the year round. They all proved very -pleasant, jovial people and we soon learned how -very different are the relations between the McCray’s -and their guests from those between the -ordinary hotel and its patrons. The inn, we -learned, is conducted on quite an extensive scale -during the summer, when two hundred people -can be entertained in the main building and adjacent -cottages. There is a large, well-appointed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span> -club-house just across the road, where the guests -may pursue dancing and other amusements to -their hearts’ content, and there is usually enough -going on to thoroughly dispel ennui on part of -anyone.</p> - -<p>But the crowning feature of McCray’s is -the meal service; verily, it brought back recollections -of mother at her best in boyhood days -on the farm. The delicious conserves, never -found in any mere hotel, are made from California -fruit right on the premises and nearly -everything used is grown on the farm under -Pap’s watchful supervision. A few words with -Pap are all that is necessary to convince you -that no detail of service or entertainment escapes -him and that he has more pride in earning the -approval of his guests than a mere desire to get -their money. We liked McCrays of all degrees -and already have plans for a trip in that vicinity -again, with the inn as one of our stopping-places. -Our only suggestion for improvement is that a -locked garage will make the average motorist -feel easier than the open shed in which our car -was stored during our visit.</p> - -<p>The next morning we were away on an -easy run to the metropolis through the famous -Santa Rosa Valley, with its endless vineyards -now laden with their purple harvest. Everywhere -were signs of activity on part of the vineyard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span> -people and we met many loaded wagons -and motor trucks carrying the grapes to the -numerous wineries in this vicinity. But I will -not write in detail of our last day’s run, since I -have covered this country fully in my previous -book, “On Sunset Highways.” We reached San -Francisco in the early afternoon, having been -absent from the golden gate city for nearly a -month and our strenuous but delightful and inspiring -pilgrimage through the mighty hills and -lovely vales of Northern California and the Oregon -country was at an end.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Into_Yosemite"><span class="xlarge">Into Yosemite<br /> -by Motor</span></h2> -</div> - -<div id="ip_245" class="p4 figcenter" style="max-width: 24em;"> - <img src="images/i331.jpg" width="375" height="466" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>EL CAPITAN, YOSEMITE</p> - -<p>From painting by H. H. Bagg</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Into_Yosemite_by_Motor">Into Yosemite by Motor</h2> -</div> - -<p>When the writer of this book first visited -Yosemite a few years ago, no motor car was -allowed to intrude in its sylvan solitudes and it -was freely alleged by the stage drivers that the -time would never come when this noisy, dust-raising -demon would be permitted to frighten -their horses and disturb their equanimity. Their -attitude was one of decided hostility, though they -affected to laugh at the suggestion—the roads -were too crooked and narrow and the grades too -steep for “automobeels”—no, sir, you’d never see -them in Yosemite. Besides, the horses in the -park had never seen these pesky machines; they -would simply go crazy and dump the coaches -over the cliffs. All of which seemed reasonable -enough at the time and nothing was farther from -my mind than the idea of piloting a car through -the devious trails that serve for roads in this -sylvan wonderland.</p> - -<p>But “tempora mutantur,” indeed. Motor -cars in California increased in geometrical ratio -and the owners banded themselves together in -the live and efficient organization known as the -Automobile Club of Southern California. This<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span> -club contended that no good reason could be -urged against admitting motor cars to Yosemite -and after a dint of effort succeeded in bringing -the Secretary of the Interior to the same point -of view. True, the decree was issued with apparent -fear and hesitation and the venturesome -motorist who wished to explore the park was -hedged about with restrictions and hampered -with endless red tape regulations. The cars -came, nevertheless, though probably as many -were deterred by the stringent rules as by the -forbidding roads.</p> - -<p>The dire results so freely predicted by the -stage men did not materialize in any great degree. -There were few serious accidents and the -motors, as a rule, met with little difficulty in -negotiating the roads to and within the park. -As a consequence, the rules were relaxed with -each succeeding year and many of the most annoying -regulations abandoned or reduced to -mere formalities. We made our trip in September -of the Panama-Pacific year, and during the -previous months of the season nearly two thousand -cars had preceded us into the park. We -did not have to demonstrate that “either set of -brakes would lock the wheels to a skid;” in fact, -I am very dubious on this point. We did not -have to get up at an unearthly hour to enter or -leave the park and the time schedule imposed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span> -on us was so reasonable that none but the speed -maniac would care to exceed it, even had no -severe penalty been attached. It was all simple -enough and our trials in doing Yosemite by -motor lay in a different direction than the rules -and regulations, as will appear in due course of -my narrative.</p> - -<p>There are several routes by which one may -enter and leave the park pending the happy day -longed for by the Auto Club when a broad, -smooth road—“no grades exceeding five per -cent”—shall convey the joyful motorist to this -Earthly Paradise of the Sierras. You can go -from Fresno via Coarse Gold, from Merced via -Coulterville, from Stockton via Chinese Camp, -or from Madera via Raymond. You can now -even reach the park from the east by the new -Tioga road, branching off the Sierra Highway -at Mono Lake, should you be seeking the wildest -and most difficult route of all.</p> - -<p>We decided, for reasons which may become -apparent as I proceed, to make our entrance by -the Madera route and to leave the park with -Stockton as our objective. We still have reason -to believe that as things stood at the time—or -even now—these routes were the most satisfactory -and we are quite sure that whatever improvement -may be made, the tourist interested -in pioneer days of California and fond of wild<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span> -and impressive scenery should choose the Stockton -road at least one way.</p> - -<p>We did not get away from Fresno, where -we passed the night preceding our start for -Wawona, until late in the afternoon. A swift -run over the splendid new highway brought us -to Madera about four in the evening, but there -remained little hope of covering sixty miles of -unknown mountain road to Wawona before -nightfall. A glance at our maps revealed Raymond, -about twenty-five miles farther on—the -terminal of a branch railroad from Madera. We -decided that Raymond would make a good stopping-point -for the night; an early start would -easily enable us to reach Yosemite the next day. -So we set out over a choppy and very dusty dirt -road which was conducive to anything but speed -and comfort, but which nevertheless brought us -to our objective in the course of an hour.</p> - -<p>We found a forlorn-looking hamlet in the -edge of the foothills and a glance at the ramshackle -wooden hotel was anything but reassuring. -A short conversation with the proprietor -of a little shack labeled “garage” was not more -encouraging. He was very noncommittal about -the merits of the hotel and finally said,</p> - -<p>“It’s only thirty miles to Miami Lodge—mighty -comfortable place; you ought to reach<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span> -there before it gets dark. Shall I telephone them -to hold dinner for you?”</p> - -<p>All of which sounded good to us as we contemplated -prospective accommodations in Raymond, -and with a speedy acquiescence we were -away for Miami Lodge. Ten miles per hour, -said the garage man, would be a good average -for a greenhorn over the road we were to traverse—a -ridiculously low estimate, we thought, but -we had not proceeded far before we agreed with -his conservatism. A narrow and exceedingly -tortuous road plunged into the hills, threading -its way among giant pines or creeping precariously -along steep hillsides and around abrupt -corners deep with dust and at times laboriously -steep. Now and then it emerged into pleasant -little glades and on entering one of these we saw -a young mountain lion trotting leisurely toward -the thicket. Of course our small rifle was under -a pile of baggage, unloaded, and the cartridges -in a grip, but we consoled ourselves with remarks -about the extreme improbability of hitting -him even if we had the gun.</p> - -<p>It was sunset by the time we had covered -little more than half the distance and while we -regarded the approaching darkness with some -apprehension, for the road showed no signs of -improvement, we forgot it all in our admiration -for the enchanting scene. Many were the magnificent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span> -vistas opening through the pines skirting -our road along the mountainside. Purple -hills topped with dark forests stretched away to -a crimson sky; shadowy canyons sloped far beneath -us, their mysterious deeps shrouded in a -soft blue haze. It was a constantly changing yet -always entrancing picture until the color faded -from the skies and the canyons were blotted out -by the gathering blackness. Then the road demanded -our undivided attention, for we covered -the last ten miles in pitch darkness and our -neglected headlights proved in very poor condition.</p> - -<p>About dusk we passed a little store and postoffice -bearing the poetic name of Grub Gulch and -later came to a comfortable-looking roadside inn, -the Ahwahnee Tavern, where we should doubtless -have stopped had our accommodations not -been ordered at Miami Lodge. We learned, however, -that this was only six miles farther and -we crept cautiously onward over the stiff grades -and around the abrupt turns. We were glad indeed -when the lights of the Lodge twinkled -through the pines and, leaving the old car to -shift for herself under the stars, made a hasty -toilet and attacked the substantial meal we found -ready for us.</p> - -<p>The Lodge is a comfortable rustic inn set -in the pines on a hillside which slopes down to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span> -a clear creek dammed at one point into a small -lake. The little valley forms a natural amphitheater -surrounded by the forest-clad hills and -is altogether a pleasant and restful spot well -away from noise and disturbance of any kind. -The creek is stocked with rainbow trout and big -game is fairly common—attractions which bring -many sportsmen to the Lodge. It is easy of -access by the Madera-Yosemite auto stages -which run daily during the season.</p> - -<p>Beyond Miami Lodge we found the road -even more trying than it was southward. Heavy -grades and sharp turns continued, and deep dust -and rough stretches caused much discomfort. -We met many motor trucks and several heavy -wagons drawn by six or eight horses, which -made ticklish work in passing on the narrow -grades and which stirred up clouds of yellow -dust. As the sun mounted, the day became intolerably -hot, making it necessary to elevate our -cape top which combined with the dust to interfere -with our view of the scenery.</p> - -<p>The famous Mariposa Grove of giant redwoods -lies a short distance off the main road to -Wawona and though we had visited this before, -we could not resist the temptation to do the big -trees by motor. An attendant at the entrance -gate demanded a fee of one dollar and admitted -us to a narrow, winding road which steadily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span> -climbed a stiff grade for about three miles before -we came to the trees. We renewed our acquaintance -with the Grizzly Giant, reputed the oldest -of living things on this mundane sphere. We -found him protected by a high wire fence to ward -off fiends suffering from the name-carving mania -or souvenir seekers who sought to rob him of a -chip or twig. He had not aged perceptibly since -our previous visit and looked good for many -more centuries, though the late John Muir once -declared his belief that the Grizzly Giant had -passed his zenith of growth and is now in his -decline, a point not yet reached by any other -redwood. But the hoar old monarch stands a -second visit well indeed, though one may not -experience quite the feeling of awe always inspired -by the first sight of these mighty trees. -It quite overwhelms one to reflect that here is a -living thing older than the oldest records of the -human race—a life that was in its infancy at the -beginnings of Egyptian civilization. So impressive -to us was the Giant and the reveries he excited -that we hardly gave due attention to his -three hundred and sixty-four companions in this -grove, the least of which, taken by itself, might -well excite the astonishment of anyone who had -never before seen a redwood. Of course we had -the novel experience of piloting a motor car -through the living arch of the Wawona while<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span> -completing the circle through the grove which -brought us again into the road by which we -entered.</p> - -<p>Wawona is only four miles from the big-tree -road, a rough, dusty, and very winding four -miles with a good many steep grades, and it was -an interesting comparison to recall the trip we -made over it in a coach-and-four on our previous -visit to the grove. Making due allowance for -all the discomforts one experiences in an automobile -during a hot, dusty day on difficult mountain -roads, our present method of travel made -the memory of the snail’s pace and suffocating -dust and heat of our former trip to the grove -seem more than ever like a nightmare.</p> - -<p>We reached Wawona in time for the noonday -luncheon at the pleasant old inn which has -been the haven of sightseers for nearly half a -century. It is delightfully situated in a little -vale amidst a group of towering pines and all -about it green meadows stretch away to the -forest-clad hills that surround it on every hand. -Through the valley runs the South Merced, famous -for its mountain trout, a delicacy which -guests at the inn sometimes enjoy. About the -main hotel building are scattered several isolated -cottages for the accommodation of guests who -may be particular about privacy and plenty of -light and air. There are numerous beautiful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span> -drives in the vicinity aside from the Mariposa -Grove trip. One of these follows the river for -some distance and another makes a circuit of the -valley.</p> - -<p>We had no time for these, as we were intent -upon reaching Yosemite for the night and the -regulation is that you check in at the final station -by six o’clock. About a mile from Wawona -we found the cabin of the ranger who issues -tickets for the south entrance to the park. The -formalities detained us but a few moments, since -with the great influx of motor tourists during -the exposition year, much of the original red -tape was dispensed with. A copy of the rules -and regulations was given us and the time of our -entrance was stamped upon the ticket to be delivered -to the superintendent at Yosemite village. -The action of our small rifle was sealed and, with -a friendly caution that it would be unwise to exceed -the limit, we were ordered to proceed. -Knowing something of the trip from previous experience -we felt no uneasiness about exceeding -the two hours and twenty-seven minutes minimum -time allowed for covering the twenty-eight -and nine-tenths miles between the station and -Yosemite garage. No one but a confirmed speed -maniac would care to exceed this very reasonable -limit and anyone wise enough to admire the -scenery along the road as it deserves to be admired<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span> -might well consume twice the minimum -time.</p> - -<p>For some miles after entering the park we -climbed the long, steady grade following the -South Merced Canyon, always at a considerable -distance above the stream, which we could see -at intervals through the pines, flashing over its -rock-strewn bed. There was scarcely a downward -dip in the road for the first half-dozen -miles, and we could not but recall the distressing -effort of the horses as they toiled painfully upward -on our former trip while we sat disconsolately -enveloped in smothering clouds of dust. -What a contrast we found in the steady, cheerful -hum of our engine as it drove our car onward -at not less than the permitted speed of fifteen -miles, leaving the dust behind us and affording -unhindered views of the endless panoramas of -canyons and hills. Despite the heat and some -murmurs from the back seat about the effect of -the too ardent caresses of California sunshine -on the complexion, we had lowered the cape top, -for no one can get the full effect of the towering -pines that skirt this road unless he has the open -heavens above him. One will not often come -across—even in California—finer individual -cedars, sugar pines, and yellow pines than he -will see here—splendid arrow-straight shafts several -feet in circumference, often rising to a height<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span> -of two or even three hundred feet. It is, indeed, -pleasant to think that they are immune from the -lumberman’s ax and guarded carefully against -devastating fires. We paused at times in the -shade of these forest titans and contemplated -the wide range of hills and valleys beyond the -canyon—particularly at Lookout Point, some -seven or eight miles from Wawona. Here we -beheld a seemingly endless panorama of forest-clad -hills stretching away until lost in the infinite -distance of the lucent afternoon. Once before -we had beheld the same scene—at sunset, -the hills shrouded in an amethyst haze, the -valleys dim with purple shadows, and the sky -resplendent with crimson and gold. Nothing -could have shown more impressively the wonderful -variations of the same landscape at different -hours of the day, or proven more completely that -one must come many times to see the beauty of -Yosemite.</p> - -<p>Three or four miles beyond Lookout Point -the road branches, the left fork leading to Glacier -Point, a distance of fourteen miles. This is a -magnificent drive through virgin forests and -should not be missed by anyone who has not -made the trip. There is an old-fashioned hotel -at Glacier Point where one may be fairly comfortable -for the night and it is worth while to -remain for the night to witness the sunrise over<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span> -the mountain ramparts of the Valley. We did -not undertake this trip, having made it a few -years before by stage, but for all that we are -sorry now that we let slip an opportunity to view -the wonderful Glacier Point panorama a second -time and some day, shall have to go back again.</p> - -<p>Continuing a few miles farther, we came to -the top of the grade leading down into the valley. -We recalled it as a stiff, strenuous road, winding -around sharp curves and often along the -edge of sheer precipices which gave us a great -many thrills from our high perch beside the -driver of our four-in-hand. We had traversed -mountain roads so much worse in the meanwhile -that Wawona grade really seemed quite tame -from a motor car and even the ladies took only -languid interest in its twists and turns. We -paused again for the third time at the famous -Inspiration Point, and, indeed, we can not help -envying those who are fortunate to come into -the Yosemite by this road and thus get their -first glimpse of the valley from Inspiration Point. -Perhaps the view from Glacier Point is as glorious -but one is not likely to come upon it so -suddenly and is somehow expecting stupendous -things, but Inspiration Point bursts on the wayfarer -from the Wawona all unaware and he sees -unfold before him almost in an instant all the -marvelous sights that have made Yosemite a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span> -world’s wonder. I have tried elsewhere—in a -previous book—to tell something of my impressions -when I first viewed this unmatched scene -and perhaps I may be pardoned for a short repetition -of my words, since I do not know that -I can do any better in describing it.</p> - -<p>“Inspiration Point! Well named, indeed, -for it must surely be a prosaic imagination that -does not kindle with enthusiasm at the prospect. -‘It comes up to the brag,’ is what Ralph Waldo -Emerson said after contemplating it long in -silence—or at least that is what the guide books -and railroad literature credit him with having -said. It sounds strangely unlike our staid and -gentle philosopher, whose language we are wont -to admire as the finality in polished English. -But it expresses one’s feelings more strongly, -perhaps, than fine words. We have been led to -expect much; they have assured us and we have -often read, that the view from Inspiration Point -is surpassed by few panoramas in the world—if, -indeed, by any—for grandeur of mountain, -cliff, and peak and for beauty of contour and -color, and all of these are enhanced by the magic -of the hour when we are so fortunate as to see it.</p> - -<p>“The valley lies before us in the soft blue -haze of the evening shadows, and its encompassing -walls and towers are kindled with the purple -and golden hues of the sunset. As one contemplates<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span> -the glittering peaks and domes and the -ranges of glowing mountains out beyond, he can -realize John Muir’s characterization of the Sierras -as the ‘Mountains of Light.’ The grandeur -of Inspiration Point seems more of cliffs and -spires, of towering walls and mountain peaks, -while from Glacier Point one is perhaps more -interested in the details of the valley itself. But -from either point one may witness a scene that -will possess his soul and whose beauty will linger -through the years. We regret the necessity -which hurries us from the scene, for the pause -of the stage coach is but momentary. We have -had but a glimpse of a landscape that might well -hold one’s rapt attention for hours.”</p> - -<p>It is the third time we have viewed this -wonderful scene and we have been fortunate -in coming each time at a different period of the -day—morning and evening and early afternoon. -Each has shown us a different phase of the beauty -of Yosemite, for the variation of light and consequent -changes of coloring have everything to -do with the view from Inspiration Point.</p> - -<p>We proceeded slowly and cautiously down -the steep switchbacks leading to the floor of the -Valley, a long, low-gear grind, for regulations -forbid disengaging gears on roads in the park. -The descent did not seem nearly so precarious -as when we first made it in the regulation coach-and-four—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span> -road appeared to have been -widened at the turns; maybe this was only in our -imagination, due to greater familiarity with -mountain roads. We were enough at our ease -to enjoy the splendid vistas of the valley and -mountains which were presented from a hundred -viewpoints as we slowly descended, something -that we hardly did the first time. Nor did the -time seem so long, though I really doubt if we -went down so quickly as our dashing driver -piloted his coach-and-four over this three-mile -grade on our first trip. We soon found ourselves -on the floor of the valley with Bridal Veil -Falls waving like a gossamer thread above us—it -was in September and the waterfalls were all -at lowest ebb. The four miles along the floor -to Yosemite was a joy ride indeed and we felt -no desire to infringe the low speed limit imposed -on motor cars. What though we had seen this -wondrous array of stupendous cliffs, domes, pinnacles, -and towers many times before, familiarity -does not detract from their overpowering -majesty and weird changeful beauty.</p> - -<p>When we left Wawona we were somewhat -fearful that we would be in danger of exceeding -the seemingly absurdly low minimum time allowed—two -hours and twenty-seven minutes for -the twenty-six miles. It seemed as if we couldn’t -help beating it without loafing on the way. However,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span> -on consulting our timepieces on nearing -Yosemite station—there is a heavy fine for coming -in ahead of schedule—we found that we had -consumed over three hours and had stopped only -a few minutes on the way. At the checking station -we paid the five dollar fee required of motorists -who enter Yosemite and took the car to the -official garage forthwith, for absolutely no motoring -is permitted in the park except for ingress -and egress.</p> - -<p>The old Sentinel Hotel had not changed in -appearance since our last visit, nor had it improved -in service; however, it was comfortable -enough for a short stop in warm weather. We -had heard many rumors of a new modern hotel -to be erected on the site of the Sentinel and one -declared that it was to be built and managed by -that prince of innkeepers, Frank Miller of the -Glenwood Mission Inn—all of which we fondly -hoped might prove true. We learned, however, -that although Mr. Miller had negotiated with -the authorities in regard to building a hotel in -Yosemite, he abandoned the scheme when he -found that the government would not grant a -lease for a period of more than ten years. Later -a corporation, the Desmond Company, secured -control of the concessions of the park and among -their plans, we were told, is the erection of a -first-class hotel, though at this writing the work<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span> -has not begun. The company already has a new -hotel at Glacier Point—a great improvement -over the barn-like structure with which Yosemite -tourists have so long been familiar.</p> - -<p>Our excuse for a third trip to Yosemite was -chiefly that we wanted to visit it by motor car; -we had seen most of the sights and made most -of the trail trips and drives, so there was little to -do but lounge about in the hotel and vicinity -for the rest of the afternoon. I visited the -garage, which was merely a huge tent with open -sides, where the cars were parked in care of an -attendant. There was apparently a very good -machine shop which seemed to have plenty of -work, for break-downs are exceedingly common. -The manager asked us if we would favor him -by carrying a new axle to a motorist who was -laid up at Crane Flat, near the entrance to the -park on the road by which we expected to leave -the next morning.</p> - -<p>The regulations require that motor cars -leave by the Big Oak Flat road between 6:00 -A. M. and 4:00 P. M. and the first-named hour -found us ready for departure, as we had been -warned that an exceedingly strenuous day’s work -lay before us. It is only one hundred and -twenty-three miles to Stockton; hence we concluded -that the strenuousness must be due to -something besides long distance—a surmise<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span> -which we did not have to wait long to verify. -About two miles from the hotel, following the -main valley road we came to a sign, “Big Oak -Flat Route” and turned sharply to the right, -crossing the Merced River. Immediately we began -a sharp ascent over a dusty trail through -thickly standing pines. Coming out of the trees -we find ourselves on a narrow road cut in the side -of the almost perpendicular cliff. It is fair at -first, screened from the precipitous drop alongside -by a row of massive boulders which have -the psychological effect of making us feel much -more at ease, though I doubt if they would be -of much use in stopping a runaway car. Nevertheless, -they are a decided factor in enabling us -to enjoy the wonderful views of mountain and -valley that present themselves to our eager eyes -as we slowly climb the steep ascent. We are -sure that we see many vistas quite equal to the -view from the much vaunted Inspiration Point—but -they are not so famous because far less -accessible.</p> - -<p>The road grows rougher and dustier as we -climb slowly upward; the boulder balustrade disappears -and we find ourselves on a narrow shelf, -with infrequent passing places, running along -the edge of a cliff that falls almost sheer beneath -us. We pause occasionally to contemplate the -marvelous scene beneath. The whole floor of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span> -valley is now visible; its giant trees seem mere -shrubs and the Merced dwindles to a silver -thread; across the narrow chasm we now look -down on the Cathedral Spires, the Three Sisters, -and Sentinel Rock; we see Bridal Veil Fall -swaying like a gossamer against the mighty -cliff, and beyond we have an endless vista of -forest-clad mountains. Three thousand feet -above the valley we enter a forest of mighty -pines; the road winds among them in sharp turns -and the grades are very steep and deep with -dust. We are not very familiar with our car—which -we leased from a Los Angeles dealer, and -as we near the summit the motor loses power -and can not be cajoled into propelling the car -over the last steep, dusty pitch. After an hour -of fruitless effort, we appealed to the foreman -of a road gang which, fortunately for us, was at -work close by, and he helped the balky engine -out with a stout team of horses.</p> - -<p>“What’s the damage?” we gratefully asked -of our rescuer.</p> - -<p>“Just a bottle of whiskey, stranger, if you -happen to have one along.”</p> - -<p>We expressed regret at our inability to meet -the very modest request and our friend had to be -content with coin of the realm instead. Later -on an auto expert told us that the particular -make of carburetor on this car will not work satisfactorily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span> -at an elevation of more than seven -thousand feet.</p> - -<p>We were still several miles from Crane Flat -and the descent proved quite as steep and rough -as the climb, but there was no precipice skirting -the road to add nervous disquiet to bodily discomfort.</p> - -<p>Crane Flat is nothing more than the ranger -station on the road and the official took up our -“time card”—we came by a safe margin of two -or three hours—and removed the seals from our -“game getter.” We delivered the axle entrusted -to our care, but found that the owner of the -broken-down car had accepted the situation philosophically -and gone fishing—his third day of -this pleasant pastime while waiting for repairs.</p> - -<p>Out of the park we hoped for better things -in the way of roads, but we soon found the dividing -line imaginary in more ways than one. The -road speedily became rougher, dustier and -steeper than that we had traversed, but, fortunately, -it was down hill.</p> - -<p>Two or three miles from Crane Flat we -came to the Tuolumne Grove of Big Trees, where -there are numerous giant redwoods, though not -so many or so huge as those of Mariposa. A -short detour from the main route took us to the -Dead Giant, the most remarkable tree of this -grove. It is tunneled like the Wawona tree in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span> -Mariposa and we had the sensation a second -time of driving through a redwood. The remains -of the Dead Giant are one hundred feet high and -one hundred and five feet in circumference; scientists -estimate that the tree must have been at -least forty feet in diameter and perhaps four -hundred feet high—larger and higher than any -redwood now living. It was destroyed perhaps -three hundred years ago by fire or lightning. -The General Lawton of this grove is one of the -most beautiful redwoods in existence and there -is also a Fallen Giant still growing greenly although -lying prone, its roots not being entirely -severed.</p> - -<p>Near the grove is the Tioga road which -has recently been completed across the Sierras -to Mono Lake on the Sierra Highway so that -Yosemite may be reached from the east, although -the entrance must be made at the west end of -the valley. We met a party that had just made -this trip and who declared the road next to impassable -at that time.</p> - -<p>A few miles beyond Tuolumne Grove one -may reach the Hetch Hetchy Valley by a short -side trip—a valley which has been styled a miniature -Yosemite. It attained a nation-wide celebrity -by the fight made to prevent the city of San -Francisco from using it as a source of water supply, -but San Francisco finally won and an act of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">267</span> -congress permits the city to retain the water of -the valley by a dam across the entrance. The engineers, -however, claim that the work will not destroy -the beauty of the valley nor prevent the -public from visiting it.</p> - -<p>Beyond Tuolumne Grove we still continue -to plunge downward over the rough, stony trail -which tried every rivet in the car and worked -havoc with tires. At one point we had the unpleasant -experience of meeting a car coming at -high speed around a corner—the road was very -narrow and as the newcomer was right upon us -a collision seemed inevitable. The wild man at -the wheel of the scrambling Ford, however, took -long chances, for he ran upon the sidling bank -when we had given him the last inch we could -squeeze from the outer side of the road. It -seemed that he must inevitably turn over on top -of us, but the luck that sometimes is said to shield -infants and fools—he was certainly no infant—favored -him and he rolled back into the road -right side up and went plunging along on the -narrow grade. My friend, after drawing a deep -breath, referred to the crazy driver as the “wild -Irishman” and though I protested against the -reflection on my remote ancestry, we still identify -the road hog who gave us such a scare, by -this appellation.</p> - -<p>It was lunch time when we reached Sequoia,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span> -though we were only twenty-nine miles from -Yosemite—a pretty insignificant showing for a -half day’s run, from a mileage point of view, but -it had been strenuous enough to make us tired -and ravenously hungry. And hunger proved a -very good sauce for the meal which we got at -Crocker’s Hotel, which is about all there is of -Sequoia. And I am not complaining of Crocker’s -Hotel, either. I think they did very well when -one considers that all their supplies must be -hauled eighty miles by wagon road—naturally -canned stuff and condensed milk prevailed. Another -outstanding recollection is that it cost us -forty cents per gallon to replenish our gasoline -and we could not complain of that under the circumstances. -The young fellow who kept the -store near the hotel said he “had been the rounds -in California,” but Crocker’s Ranch suited him -best of any place he had seen. It was interesting -to know that anyone could be satisfied in this remote -and lonely place; it certainly had the advantage -of being near to nature, if that was what -our friend was seeking.</p> - -<p>Beyond Crocker’s the characteristics of the -country were about the same. A rough, dusty -trail, winding through pine-clad hills with occasional -heavy grades, carried us along for a good -many miles. We occasionally passed a remote -little station with a general store and “garage”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span> -bearing evidence of its origin in an old-time -blacksmith shop. Colfax Gate, Smith’s, Garrett, -and Big Oak Flat—which showed little reason -for the distinction of giving its name to the road—were -all of the same type, with nothing to invite -even a casual glance from the tourist unless -he needed gasoline or oil.</p> - -<p>At Priest’s there is a country hotel, a haunt -of hunters and ranchmen; but we recall Priest’s -chiefly because it gives its name to one of the -most beautiful bits of road engineering in California. -The old road through this section had -some of the steepest grades to be found in a -country of steep grades; in fact, it was all but -impassable to automobiles as bits of it still to -be seen from the new highway will amply prove. -The new grade extends for eight miles from -Priest’s to Jacksonville, in which distance it descends -fifteen hundred feet, but in no place does -the gradient exceed five per cent. It follows the -very crest of a giant hill range overlooking -a beautiful valley some two or three thousand -feet below. Alongside there is nothing to break -the full sweep of one’s vision—not a tree or even -a shrub intervenes between the roadbed and the -precipitous slope beneath. Although the road is -wide enough for easy passing at any point, the -very baldness of its outer edge is enough to give -a decided thrill to nervously inclined people and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span> -our driver received more advice and caution from -the rear seat than had been offered him on far -more dangerous roads with occasional rocks or -trees alongside.</p> - -<p>At Jacksonville the road comes down almost -to the level of the Tuolumne River and we found -ourselves on the border of the old gold-mining -region made famous by the tales of Bret Harte. -There are still several placer mines in operation -along the river—the road passes a very large one -at the foot of Chinese Camp grade, and the river -is sullied for miles by the muddy washings from -the mill. Chinese Camp grade is one of the worst -encountered on our entire trip; it is steep and -terribly rough, and dust a foot deep hides the -ruts and chuck-holes, so we were compelled to -“go it blind.” It was a four-mile plunge and -scramble around sharp curves, half smothered -and blinded by dense dust clouds which rose before -we could get away from them, we made -such slow progress over the dreadful road. At -the hilltop, however, we were rewarded for our -strenuous scramble by a magnificent view of the -river canyon and a wide panorama of forest-clad -hills with the emerald thread of the Tuolumne -winding through them. Contemplation of the -magnificent scene and a draught of cold water -from our thermos bottle revived our spirits,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span> -which had drooped somewhat in the hot, dusty -climb to the summit of the grade.</p> - -<p>A short distance over a stony trail brought us -into the main street of Chinese Camp, if we may -so designate the wide, dusty section of road lined -with wooden shacks of which every other one -seemed a saloon. The appearance of the buildings -warranted the guess on our part that there -has been little change in this primitive hamlet -since Bret Harte visited it, nearly a half century -ago. Not far from here are many other camps -and villages which found enduring fame in the -stories of this most representative of all earlier -California writers. Sonora, Angel’s Camp, Tuttletown, -San Andreas, Mokelumne, and other -places familiar in Harte’s pages may all be -reached in a detour of fifty miles or so from the -Big Oak Flat road. Most of these towns, like -Chinese Camp, have made little progress since -they were mirrored in the tales which appeared -in the old Overland and Argonaut of San Francisco.</p> - -<p>Beyond Chinese Camp we encountered the -worst stretch of road of the entire day—a mere -trail winding through a rough, boulder-strewn -country seemingly having no end or object in -view except to avoid the rocks too large to run -over. No effort had been made to remove the -smaller stones from the way and we had an unmerciful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span> -jolting, although we crawled along at a -dozen miles per hour. Fortunately, there are no -steep grades, and occasionally smoother stretches -afforded a little respite. It would be hard to use -language, however, that would exaggerate the -relief which we felt when, on ascending a sharp -little rise, we came upon a splendid paved highway -which the road-book declared would continue -all the way to Stockton. I think that the -last forty miles into the city consumed less time -than any ten miles we had covered since leaving -Yosemite that morning.</p> - -<p>We certainly presented a somewhat disreputable -appearance when we came into the -town. The car and everything about it, including -the occupants, was dirty gray with dust, which -I noted was two inches deep on the running -boards and perhaps a little less on our faces, -while it saturated our clothing and covered our -baggage. California hotels, however, are used to -such arrivals and we were well taken care of at -the Stockton, despite our unprepossessing appearance. -A thorough cleaning up, a change of -raiment and a good dinner put us at peace with -the world and we were soon exchanging felicitations -over the fact that we had done Yosemite -by motor car.</p> - -<p>The route which we had taken, though -strenuous enough, as my narrative indicates, is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span> -the one used by the majority of motorists going -into the park. Of course, earlier in the season -this road is not so rough and is freer from dust; -one may make the trip to best advantage in July -or early August. The time of opening the road -varies, but the passes are usually clear of snow -by the middle of June, though one is likely to -find mud in places for some time after the snow -has disappeared.</p> - -<p>There are two other roads into the valley -besides the Tioga road from the east. One of -these leaves Fresno and joins the Madera road a -few miles west of Wawona. One may start from -either Modesto or Merced for the Coulterville -road, which joins the valley road a little beyond -El Portal. This road has the steeper grades, -some as high as thirty per cent, but it takes one -through some magnificent scenery and also -passes the Merced Grove of big trees.</p> - -<p>When the new route proposed and surveyed -by the Automobile Club of Southern California -is finally completed, the routes which I have -described will probably be obsolete except for the -occasional tourist who prefers the strenuous. -The new route proceeds from Merced to Mariposa, -a distance of forty miles, and is already -partially completed. From Mariposa a new -route has been surveyed by the club engineers -to El Portal, following Bear Creek Canyon, a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span> -distance of thirty-three miles. Including the fifteen -miles from El Portal, the total distance from -the main highway is eighty-eight miles, or considerably -less than any existing route. Better -still, no grade on the new road will exceed five -per cent and it will make Yosemite accessible by -motor a much greater part of the year than at -present. The completion of this proposed road -is brought measureably nearer by the fifteen -million dollar bond issue voted in 1916, as the -Highway Commission has made the new Yosemite -route a part of its pledged program.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="A_Run_to_the_Roosevelt"><span class="xlarge">A Run to the Roosevelt<br /> -Dam and to the<br /> - -Petrified Forest</span></h2> -</div> - -<div id="ip_277" class="p4 figcenter" style="max-width: 32em;"> - <img src="images/i365.jpg" width="505" height="379" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p>SOLITUDE—THE ARIZONA NATIONAL FORESTS</p> - -<p>From painting by Thos. Moran</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="A_Run_to_the_Roosevelt_Dam_and">A Run to the Roosevelt Dam and -the Petrified Forest</h2> -</div> - -<p>Possibly this chapter is out of place in a -book of motor travel on the Pacific Coast, for it -has somewhat to do with journeyings by railway -train and shifts the scene of action to the barren -hills and green valleys of Arizona—the land of -mystery and contrast without peer among its -sister states. In our goings back and forth to -California over the Santa Fe Trail, we had often -laid plans to stop at the Petrified Forests near -Adamana and to visit Phoenix and the great -Roosevelt Dam, which waters the green and -fruitful Salt River Valley. It is hard, however, -to wrench oneself from a Pullman car before the -journey’s end when one has become comfortably -located, and so our plans were usually deferred -until some indefinite “next time.” Had we taken -trouble to ascertain how easily and quickly such -plans can be realized, we should no doubt have -carried them out much sooner.</p> - -<p>Leaving Los Angeles in the afternoon in a -through sleeper, we awoke the following morning -to see the vivid green of the Salt River alfalfa<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span> -fields all about us, reaching Phoenix in time for -a late breakfast. We were not posted on the -hotels of the town, but went to the Jefferson because -it was nearest, finding it a modern, fireproof -building with well-appointed, comfortable -rooms. There was no meal service, however, and -we were directed to a restaurant farther down -the street. We also inquired about hiring a car -to take us to the Roosevelt Dam and the clerk -replied that he would have a driver connected -with the hotel call on us shortly. This party -appeared while we were at breakfast and expressed -his willingness to serve us.</p> - -<p>“Of course you mean to spend the night at -the dam,” he said, “returning tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>We assured him that we didn’t mean anything -of the sort—that our time in Phoenix was -limited to two days and that only one of them -could be devoted to the Roosevelt Dam. “They -tell us that it is only seventy-five miles distant,” -I asserted. “Surely one hundred and fifty miles -isn’t much of a drive if we get away by 9:30.”</p> - -<p>“You may think differently after you’ve -made the trip,” he replied, “but I reckon it can -be done if you feel that you can stand it.”</p> - -<p>We thought we knew something of bad -roads and rough going and felt sure that the -trip couldn’t be much worse than many other -one-hundred-and-fifty-mile jaunts we had done<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span> -in a day, and, to get down to business, asked, -“What kind of a car have you, and what will -you charge us for the drive?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve a Dodge,” he replied, “and the regular -price for the trip is forty dollars.”</p> - -<p>The lady of the expedition had not said -much so far but the latter part of the remark -aroused her interest and slightly excited her ire. -“Forty dollars for one hundred and fifty miles—a -six or seven-hour trip!” she exclaimed. “We -don’t wish to buy your car, thank you.”</p> - -<p>We declined to negotiate farther with a -party who was such a palpable would-be robber -and on coming out into the street I approached -a jovial-looking old fellow in a Ford labeled “for -hire,” thinking more of getting a little information -than of any likelihood of doing business -with him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I can take you to the dam,” he said. -“Drive you up to-day and bring you back tomorrow; -forty dollars for the round trip.”</p> - -<p>“But we want to get back this evening,” we -replied, ignoring the unpleasant confirmation of -the Dodge driver’s “regular fare.”</p> - -<p>“Waal, couldn’t do it in the Ford, but my -son has a new Buick six and he can make it all -right—but he’d have to charge you fifty dollars.”</p> - -<p>We had gotten over the first shock given us -by auto rates to Roosevelt Dam and heard this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span> -with fairly steady nerves—we were bound to -make the trip and a few dollars one way or the -other were not to deter us. The young man was -hunted up and after some dickering he consented -to pilot the new Buick six, the pride of his heart, -on her maiden trip to the dam for the regular -price, but declared it would be well after dark -before he could get us back.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to tell me,” I exclaimed, -“that a machine like that will require twelve -hours to do one hundred and fifty miles?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll know more about it,” he replied, -“when you’ve been over the road; besides, we’ll -have to stop for lunch and of course you’ll want -a little time at the dam.” To all of which we -assented—and I may anticipate here enough to -say that I do know more about it since I have -been over the road and that while forty dollars -seems pretty high auto hire for a one-hundred -and-fifty-mile trip, I am convinced that it would -have taken all of that out of my own car and -tires had we made the run in it.</p> - -<p>A few preliminaries detained us until nearly -ten o’clock, but when we got under way our -driver quickly cleared the streets of the town and -we were soon skimming merrily along a fine, -level road skirting a broad, tree-bordered irrigation -canal. This is one of the main arteries carrying -the water which gives the valley its green<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span> -prosperity—an unruffled emerald river eighty feet -broad and eight feet deep. We crossed -a fine bridge over the Salt River at Tempe, -nine miles from Phoenix, and about as -far beyond this town we entered Mesa, -the second city of the valley. So far we -found the road level and good, some of it having -been surfaced and otherwise improved.</p> - -<p>Beyond Mesa we came quickly out of the -cultivated part of the valley, pursuing a good -dirt road leading through a sandy stretch of -desert, toward the rugged hill range which rears -its serrated crests against the silvery horizon. -Seen from Phoenix, the mountains that encircle -the verdant valley are shrouded in the intensest -blue—far away hills of mystery that suggest -some fairyland beyond—but as we drew nearer -to them the blue shadows vanished and the bald, -harsh outlines of mighty wall and towering crag -seemingly barred our way. The prevailing -colors were dull browns and reds and the slopes -were almost devoid of vegetation. Great -boulder-like hills are tumbled about as though -some giant had flung them in wild confusion to -bar the ingress of human trespassers. The road, -however, finds a crevice by which to enter the -mighty barrier and about midway between Phoenix -and the dam it begins its conquest of these -forbidding hills. Somewhere we had read that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span> -the government had built a “boulevard” through -these mountains to the dam and our preconceived -notions were of a fair mountain road. We had, -therefore, no mental preparation to assist us in -enduring one of the crookedest, roughest, rockiest -trails we ever bumped over in all our experience. -The route we followed was known as -the “Apache Trail” in pioneer days and frequently -afforded a secure retreat for these troublesome -savages when pursued by the U. S. troopers. -In converting it into a thoroughfare for -vehicles, it would seem that little has been done -except to widen the old trail—a real highway to -Roosevelt Dam is yet to be built.</p> - -<p>The climb begins at the foot of Superstition -Mountain, leaving the river some miles to the -left. Much of the road is natural granite rock, -almost untouched by the hand of man; again it -is blasted in the edge of a cliff, though little has -been done to finish the surface to any degree of -smoothness. We scrambled through the Devil’s -Kitchen—a wild array of fantastic, multi-colored -rocks—pink, yellow green—withal a beautiful -spot spoiled by a senseless name.</p> - -<p>We followed the edge of sheer cliffs or -skirted sloping hillsides overlooking charming -little valleys. From one point we had a far-away -glimpse of the vexed river—we crossed the inevitable -“hogback” and the grandest panorama<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span> -of the whole trip burst suddenly upon our astonished -vision. It is a vast, oval basin more than -a thousand feet in depth, surrounded by parti-colored -hills—though golden yellow seems the -predominating color—on every side save for the -narrow chasm by which the stream makes its -escape from the canyon. But from our point of -view the creek seemed a silver thread and the -pines on the valley floor shrunk to mere shrubs. -Our driver pointed out the ranch house where -we were to have lunch, though we located it with -difficulty, for it seemed no larger than an ordinary -dry-goods box. The road here—the only -especially creditable piece of engineering on the -route—descends the mighty hillside in long, -swinging loops and with only moderate grades. -It offers many wonderful panoramas of giant -crags and towering pinnacles; at times great -cliffs rise far above it and again sheer precipices -fall away at its side. This wonderful vale of -beauty and grandeur goes by the very unpoetical -title of Fish Creek Canyon, which again reminds -us how unfortunate the pioneers often were in -their nomenclature. What a pity that the sense -of fitness which clung to the old Indian or -Spanish names in the Southwest or the romantic -propriety that gave the oriental titles to the -palaces of the Grand Canyon was not more -common.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span> -At Fish Creek Station, we paused at a plain, -rustic roadhouse, where a substantial dinner was -served after considerable delay, for the landlady -and her daughter appeared to be sole attendants -upon ourselves and a dozen or more people who -came by the stage. While awaiting the dinner -call, we amused ourselves in watching the antics -of a pair of young mountain lions confined in a -wire cage. They were graceful, playful beasts, -somewhat larger than a big cat, and about six -months old, our driver said. They were caught -in the vicinity, which is noted for big game, and -the very rare mountain sheep can be seen on the -surrounding cliffs at almost any time. The rocks -assume many fantastic shapes against the skyline -around the valley and by exercising a little -imagination we finally could see the “Lion” and -the “Cross” on the distant heights. Leaving the -station, the road follows the boisterous creek for -some distance, winding among trees and boulders -which skirt its banks. Then we again climbed -rugged granite hills almost devoid of vegetation, -save many queer cacti, often gorgeous with -blooms, and finally approached the river, which -we followed at no great distance for the rest -of the run. We saw it from the heights, whence -it appeared like a green, fluttering ribbon, as it -dashed over its stony bed. As we proceeded -the road dipped down in the valley and finally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span> -came to the very banks of the stream, which it -closely followed for several miles. It is a broad, -beautifully clear river, plunging over the stones -in foaming rapids or lying still and deep in emerald -green pools. The road had been washed -out for some distance by a spring flood and the -new work was excruciatingly rough and strewn -with razor-edged stones which wrought havoc -on the smooth new tires. The scene at this -point, however, is one of wild and entrancing -beauty. Far above us rose the rocky walls, -splashed with reds and yellows; below us the -river banks were lined with cottonwoods, aspens, -and willows beneath which were green meadows, -with prosperous-looking cattle grazing upon -them.</p> - -<p>The road swings away from the river for -some distance and we again entered the hills; -we crawled up narrow, steep grades and around -the corners of stupendous cliffs. Ere long a deep-voiced -roar announced that the object of our pilgrimage -was near at hand. As we came out -upon a promontory, we got a full view of the -mighty arc of stone that shuts the vast wall of -water in the heart of the blue hill range before -us. Torrents were pouring from the spillways -and a rainbow arched the clouds of mist and foam -that rose at the base of the three-hundred-foot -fall. We paused in wonder and admiration to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span> -contemplate the scene—for once the works of -man rival the phenomena of nature in beauty and -grandeur, though we must confess that the natural -background is a very helpful accessory to -the wonderful view. Back of the dam the shining -blue lake, twenty-five square miles in area, -stretches away between the granite hills, which -show little traces of vegetation save scattered -scrub pines and cedars. Near at hand the reddish-brown -volcanic rocks stand out in bold, bare -outlines, but gradually softened by the blue -mists of the distance, they take on the semblance -of fairy towers and domes. Substantial iron -bridges two hundred feet long span the spillways -on either side of the dam and afford access to a -sixteen-foot roadway along the top of the mighty -structure.</p> - -<p>From the road one gets the most adequate -idea of the gigantic dimensions and great solidity -of the dam; a few figures illustrating these may -be admissable here. The height from lowest -foundation is 284 feet; thickness at base, 168 feet; -at crest, 20 feet; total length, including spillways, -1080 feet. The cost of the entire work was nine -million dollars, of which three and a half millions -were spent on the dam alone. Five and one-half -years were required to complete the job and formal -dedication occurred on the eighteenth of -March, 1911, with the redoubtable Teddy himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span> -as master of ceremonies. It was not until nearly -four years later that the reservoir was entirely -filled. There is enough water in reserve to supply -all lands now under the system with sufficient -moisture for three years, putting any -chance of crop failure from shortage out of the -question. About three and a half feet of water -annually is required to produce crops in the Salt -River Valley and this, with the warm sunshine -and fertile soil, brings forth a yield that is amazing -to farmers in rain-watered sections. A valuable -by-product of the system is the water power -available at the dam and at various points on -the river. The aggregate will exceed twenty-five -thousand horse power, which will ultimately pay -for the maintenance of the system, giving the -land-owner his water service free.</p> - -<p>Crossing the dam, we followed the road for -a mile or two to Webb Lodge, a comfortable-looking -rustic inn built on a point of land extending -well into the lake. A good many Phoenix -people come here to spend the week-end and enjoy -the excellent fishing. A number of stage -tourists also stop at the Lodge for the night, -completing the trip to Globe, forty-five miles -farther, on the following day. We may confess -that the thought of a pause for the night here appealed -mightily to us, but our plans did not admit -of such a stop, and after a half hour’s rest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span> -in the big chairs on the Lodge veranda we signified -our readiness for the return trip.</p> - -<p>The prospect of immediately retracing our -way over the cruel road which we had just -covered was not at all alluring and we would -recommend to would-be visitors to make arrangements -for a through trip to Globe by auto-stage, -resuming the railroad there. Our return trip -was not entirely without its reward, for we saw -many weirdly beautiful effects as the sun went -down over the giant hills and the blue shadows -veiled the mysterious deeps of the savage ravines. -Besides, the viewpoints were so vastly -different that it was often hard to believe we -were pursuing the road which we followed in -coming. The sky was perfectly clear and the -western horizon was a vast, burning expanse as -the sun disappeared, though there was but little -afterglow.</p> - -<p>But we were hardly in form to appreciate -the weird gradations of light and color and the -almost terrifying beauty of the twilight mountains -about us. The terrible road had worn the -lady of the party to the limit of endurance and -our anxiety to get out of the fearful hills constantly -increased. It seemed an age before we -rounded the black bulk of Superstition Mountains -and saw the moonlit Mesa glimmering -before us. Even the motor seemed to give a sigh<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span> -of relief as the car reached the level plain and -settled down to a swift, steady pace after the -strenuous work in the hills. Mesa and Tempe -were quickly passed and we reached the well-lighted -streets of Phoenix a little after nine -o’clock. The lady was so thoroughly fagged out -that she declared there was no possible hope that -she would be able to leave the hotel the next -day. A night’s rest in a comfortable bed, however, -worked wonders and, though there was -considerable complaint about sore joints and -muscles in the morning, she declared herself -ready, after a late breakfast, to carry out our -plan to explore the vicinity of Phoenix during -the day.</p> - -<p>We soon struck a bargain with the old man -whose son had piloted us to the dam, to show us, -with the assistance of his trusty Ford, what he -considered worth while in and about the city. -He proved an excellent guide, for he apparently -knew every foot of the country by heart, though -perhaps he was a little too much of a “booster” -to impart unprejudiced information about Phoenix. -We found it quite impossible to disabuse -him of the idea that we were seeking investments -in the valley—he evidently couldn’t conceive of -any other reason for the interest we were evincing -in the country. He first descanted upon the -climate—the practice of every loyal westerner—and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span> -we had learned the futility of disputing the -asseverations made in such cases.</p> - -<p>“I lived in Missouri several years ago and -my wife suffered so terribly from rheumatism -and other ills that we decided on a change of -climate. We moved to Los Angeles and lived -there for three years, but there wasn’t much improvement -and on the advice of a friend we came -to Phoenix a few years ago. My wife is perfectly -well now and I feel that I’ve added years to my -life. It’s the warm, dry climate that does the -business; California is too wet in the winter -months. Pretty hot in summer?—Well, yes, but -we don’t feel it like you do back east. I stay -here the year round and enjoy the weather all -the time. The records prove that the sun shines -eighty-four per cent of the possible time and -there is an average of only thirty-seven rainy -days in the year. Yes, it’s good enough for me, -and you’ll like it, too, if you decide to come here.”</p> - -<p>We first drove about the town and noted -the handsome public and private buildings, the -wide, well-paved streets, and the many comfortable -residences with their pretty grounds. Not -many of these could be classed as pretentious, -though there are several fine homes on the broad -avenue leading to the Government Indian School. -The State Capitol, a small but handsome building -of classic design, surrounded by ample<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span> -grounds, is situated in the center of the town. -Tucson has given up the claim which it once -pressed for the capitol, and no doubt a more adequate -structure will be built before many years. -There are several imposing public school buildings, -classic lines prevailing in the architecture -of nearly all of them. A beautiful Y. M. C. A. -building with the mission motif predominating, -fronts a pretty little park. I have already mentioned -the hotels, which of course greatly outclass -anything one would be likely to find in an -eastern town two or three times as large as -Phoenix. Near the city is the Ingleside Country -Club, with a handsome club house where winter -visitors are made welcome. Nor did our guide -permit us to overlook the Insane Asylum adjoining -the city and assured us that the big addition -then building was made necessary by prohibition, -recently adopted in Arizona—leaving -us to draw any conclusions we might see fit.</p> - -<p>Leaving the town we pursued the broad avenue -leading to the Indian school—a splendid -road running straight away to the blue mountains, -sixty miles distant. It seems to me that I -never saw elsewhere mountains so intensely blue -as those which surround this Arcadian valley. -Perhaps the universal greenness accentuates all -colors. Surely it was an earthly Paradise on the -day of which I am writing—a bright, fresh day<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span> -with a light breeze laden with the odors of orange -blossoms and new-mown alfalfa. The Indian -school is small and the buildings old, but the -surroundings seem ideal for teaching the rising -generation of red men the ways of civilization.</p> - -<p>From the Indian school we drove to some -orange groves not far distant and made no attempt -to dispute our guide’s emphatic claim that -they were quite the equal of the best groves about -Riverside or Azusa.</p> - -<p>“They can grow any fruit here that can be -grown in California,” he declared, “and some -that can’t be matured there—dates, for instance. -We have frosts sometimes, but I’ve seen worse -ones about Los Angeles. Our main crops never -fail, though; we can always count on a full yield -of grain, alfalfa, sugar beets, or a dozen other -staples. And I want to ask you if you ever saw -finer cattle than those right before your eyes.”</p> - -<p>We followed a road along one of the canals -which spread like a network over the valley and -furnish unlimited water for the 182,000 acres now -under irrigation. About 30,000 additional acres -can be reclaimed by pumping water to a slightly -higher level and this will comprise about all the -available land in the valley. None of it remains -in possession of the government and prices of -improved land now range from $100 to $500 per -acre—very low, our enthusiastic informant asserted,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span> -when you consider that a single year’s -crop will often pay twenty-five to fifty per cent -of the original cost of the land. And this did -not seem unreasonable when we saw the enormous -crops of wheat and alfalfa which are being -harvested—and the latter yields two to six cuttings -per year. Of course, there may be another -side to the story of Salt River Valley’s prosperity—as -there is to nearly everything on this mundane -sphere—but our interest was too casual to -spur us to any careful investigation.</p> - -<p>We were back to our hotel in the early afternoon, -after having covered a large part of the -roads, good, bad, and indifferent, in the immediate -vicinity of the town. If we had time to go -farther afield, we were assured that there is much -of interest within a radius of one hundred and -fifty miles about Phoenix. Tucson, one hundred -and twenty miles to the southeast, has the State -University and one of the oldest and most picturesque -of Spanish missions in the Southwest—that -of San Xavier Del Bac, still in charge of -the Franciscan monks. Granite Reef Diversion -Dam is thirty miles to the northeast and just -beyond that are the ruins of old Fort McDowell, -established in the days of the Apache wars. -About it is an Indian reservation where the sons -and daughters of these fierce red warriors now -pursue the arts of peace—they are famous basket-makers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span> -and some of them are prosperous farmers -and cattle raisers. The Gila Indian Reservation -is seventeen miles to the southwest and is remarkable -for its excellent buildings, which were -erected by the Indians themselves. One tribe, -the Pimas, is noted for its pottery, and its proudest -boast is that it has never been at war with -the whites.</p> - -<p>All of these points may be reached by motor -over roads ranging from fair to bad—but whatever -their condition, constantly improving, for -Arizona, despite her limited population as compared -with her vast areas, is making every effort -to improve her highways. Our old driver left -us at the hotel with the earnest plea that we -give the merits of Phoenix as a place to live our -careful consideration and we assured him that -if we did not become citizens of the town it would -not be his fault.</p> - -<p>Our plans were already made for a stop at -the Petrified Forests of Arizona—for these are -in Arizona, though it takes a night’s run on the -Santa Fe to reach them in this land of magnificent -distances. We were met at the little goods-box -station of Adamana by a short, swarthy -individual who seized our grips and piloted us -to the bungalow-like inn across the track, where -the proprietor, Mr. Chester B. Campbell, welcomed -us and assured us that in response to our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span> -telegram he had reserved “the best in the house -for us.” We found the best to be had in -the Campbell Hotel quite primitive enough to -suit the taste of the most ardent advocate of the -simple life; bath-rooms and running water were -taboo and telephone and call bells minus in -rooms. But things were clean and one is hardly -entitled to Waldorf-Astoria accommodations for -two-fifty per day—“American plan.”</p> - -<p>We barely paused to deposit our baggage -in the room assigned to us before signifying to -Mr. Campbell our desire to visit the wonders -which had brought us to Adamana and we were -assured that nearly everything worth while could -be done in a day—since Fords had superseded -horses and spring wagons. And I suppose it -was fortunate for me that this shift in transportation -methods had been made; otherwise what -excuse could I have found for including the story -of our experiences in a chronicle of the motor -car? And there was no time lost in “hitching -up.” Almost immediately we heard the familiar -growl of the Ford engine and were told that our -car was ready. We found the swart, stocky individual -who met us at the station in charge of -the steering wheel and he proved an encyclopaedia -of information, useful and otherwise, as -well as an artist in piloting the little machine -over the sandy wastes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span> -“We’ll take in the North Sigillaria first,” -he declared, “and there’ll be plenty of time after -dinner to do the others.”</p> - -<p>It was the last of May—a clear, fresh day -with a rather stiff breeze, and the desert sand -along our route was starred with many beautiful -blooms which elicited exclamations of admiration -from the ladies of the party. They must -needs pause to gather a few of the flowers and -inquired as they climbed back into the car,</p> - -<p>“Are there any rattlesnakes in this country?”</p> - -<p>“Plenty of ’em,” responded our pilot. “I -just shipped a big fellow east yesterday.”</p> - -<p>“Do you make a business of catching -snakes?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Not much—but a young lady who was -here said she’d like to have one and I promised -to send it,” he replied with the air of a man -whose promise is always equal to performance, -and went on to regale us with other weird stories -of adventure with deadly reptiles.</p> - -<p>“Any mountain lions in this section?” I -asked, thinking to afford him subject-matter for -further stories of his experiences.</p> - -<p>“Never heard of any,” he promptly answered.</p> - -<p>“Roosevelt in his new book tells about hunting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span> -them near the Grand Canyon,” I began, but -he interrupted me with a snort of disgust.</p> - -<p>“Roosevelt is the biggest —— faker in -the whole country. You can bet your life he -never hunted mountain lions in Arizona.”</p> - -<p>“But I read it yesterday in his new book,” -I insisted.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe you did—he may write about it, all -right, but I’ll gamble this Ford agin a copper -cent that he never did it.”</p> - -<p>I saw there was no use trying to defend the -veracity of our strenuous ex-president to a man -with such a righteous horror of a faker and therefore -desisted.</p> - -<p>In the meanwhile the Ford had scrambled up -a short incline to the verge of a gigantic chasm -and paused. From the gorgeous colorings—the -vivid dashes of red, yellow, purple, orange, and -all the gamut of the mingling of these—we might -have fancied before us a section of the Grand -Canyon in miniature, save that the floor of the -great depression was comparatively level. Looking -westward down this weird prismatic valley, -our view was unobstructed for twenty-five miles -or more and the vivid color belts gradually -melted into a lavender haze which formed the -horizon.</p> - -<p>“That’s a corner of the Painted Desert,” -said our guide, “and those black stumps and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span> -blocks you see down yonder, a mile or so, are -pieces of the petrified trees. There’s a trail so -you can walk down if you want to.” Nobody -exhibited any keen anxiety to hit the trail and -the driver confirmed the general disinclination -by saying that the trip was hardly worth while; -we should see the other forests, far larger and -more interesting, at close range. So, after due -contemplation of the scene—for this stretch of -the Painted Desert is far more worth while than -the forest at this point—we gave word for the -return.</p> - -<p>On the way the driver pointed out the line -of the original Santa Fe Trail which we crossed -and I made some remark about the improvement -in roads and transportation methods which enabled -a transcontinental driver only a week before -to complete the ocean-to-ocean trip in a little -over seven days. Our driver had not heard of -this feat and as the purport of my remark percolated -to his brain he burst out,</p> - -<p>“Don’t believe it; clean impossible for a -single driver to do it. He’d have to average five -hundred miles a day.”</p> - -<p>I assured him, however, that it had been -done; that the Los Angeles papers were full of -it when we left that city.</p> - -<p>“Don’t care if they were; there’s a fake of -some sort about it,” and he expressed his disapproval<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span> -of fakes in general by urging the Ford -at a vicious rate over the sandy trail.</p> - -<p>As we came near the hotel we saw signs -of great activity in the stable yard—the girls -mounting saddle horses and cowboys dashing -hither and thither in the valley beyond.</p> - -<p>“Big cattle round-up to-day,” said our driver, -and we were seized with a desire to see as much -as possible of said round-up. Mr. Campbell assured -us that we still had time before dinner to -visit the scene of the round-up and that our driver -could take the Ford anywhere a mustang could -go. So we struck out across the broad, sandy -wash of the Rio Puerco in face of stinging gusts -of sand, for the wind had been steadily rising -all morning. We pursued our way across the -desert toward the scene of activity, jumping over -hummocks, plunging in and out of little ravines, -and crawling through the sagebrush, but making -progress all the time at an astonishing rate.</p> - -<p>Our driver in the meanwhile was regaling -us with blood-curdling tales of his experiences -as a cowpuncher—stories of thrilling fights -with Indians, of how he was lost for days in a -blizzard to be rescued in last extremity, and -similar harrowing adventures. He was interrupted -by a cowboy who rode up to us, touching -his sombrero to the ladies. “Hello, Gulliver,” -he cried, “How’s the Ford for rounding ’em up?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span> -Our pilot now had little to say, but the newcomer -was very courteous in answering our -queries and explaining the maneuvers of the -round-up.</p> - -<p>They were now coming in from every side, -bringing about a thousand cattle in all—the object -being to separate—“cut out”—the cows with -young calves for branding and the merchantable -steers for shipment to the east. The herd was -assembled in a level plain near a corral and the -cowboys, some three or four dozen in number, -dashed furiously about, dexterously singling out -the proper animals and turning them into the -corrals. Sometimes a calf, bawling wildly, would -bolt for the hills, followed by his terrified mama. -It was astonishing how fast and how far the -little beast’s spindling legs could carry him, but -his pursuer soon had him lassoed and dragged -him, in spite of his stiff legs, to the corral. Poor -fellow, if he could have realized the fate awaiting -him, he would probably have increased his desperate -struggles for freedom; a little later he was -thrown to the ground and his owner’s brand imprinted -on his smooth hide with a red-hot iron.</p> - -<p>One of the ladies of our party had a kodak -and, being anxious to have a few snaps at closer -range, asked one of the cowboys to take the -camera and ride nearer the herd.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I don’t know how to work the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span> -machine. Say, Gulliver, you take my horse and -try it,” which Gulliver did with sublime assurance. -In the meanwhile perhaps a dozen girls -from the hotel and vicinity came cantering to -the scene and were the recipients of most respectful -attention on part of the cowboys. A couple -of heavy covered wagons came lumbering on the -scene a little later and paused beside a pond filled -by windmills on the opposite side of the herd.</p> - -<p>“Them’s the grub wagons,” said Gulliver, -“Shall we drive round and see them get dinner?” -To which proposal we readily assented. The -two cooks had some difficulty in getting a fire -started on account of the wind, which had increased -to a veritable gale, driving the sand in -stinging gusts. One of the cooks dipped a bucket -of water from the pool and poured a quantity of -the murky liquid into a dishpan of flour which -he vigorously stirred with his hands. He soon -had some biscuits which looked quite good and -his compeer was busy frying steak in huge pans. -Canned vegetables and fruits were produced -from the wagons and a very passable meal was -soon ready for serving on wooden picnic plates. -True, everything was liberally sprinkled with the -sand which constantly filled the air, but it was -clear from the husky boys flocking in to the repast -that Arizona sand isn’t deleterious to the -constitution. We were invited to join in the repast,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span> -but the ladies decided it was time to return -to the hotel and we departed with profuse thanks -to our would-be hosts.</p> - -<p>We did not fare any too well at the hotel—the -help had gone almost en masse to the -round-up, leaving most of the work to be done -by the proprietor and his wife.</p> - -<p>“A round-up means a holiday to almost -everyone in Adamana,” explained Mr. Campbell. -“It’s no easy matter to keep help at the very best, -and when anything occurs to break the monotony -of our life, we have to let our people make the -most of it.”</p> - -<p>We agreed that a chance to see the round-up -ourselves more than compensated for any inconvenience -we experienced on account of it, and -everybody took it good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>Gulliver, however, expressed contempt for -the round-up; it was hopelessly tame and civilized -compared with those of old days, in which -he had participated, when every man wore a -big gun and cartridge belt and shootings were -delightfully common. He was ready after lunch -with his Ford to pilot us to the forests lying -south of Adamana. Had not our time been -limited, we should have demurred; the wind had -risen to a perfect gale, clouds of sand obstructed -our view, and gave a faint yellow tinge to the -sky. Crossing the river wash, the Ford stalled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span> -in a fresh sand drift and Gulliver requested us to -dismount and “give her a lift.” A little sagebrush -thrown under the wheels, an energetic -push by the passengers, some vigorous growling, -and more or less snorting and scrambling on part -of the car brought it out of the drift and we went -on our way rejoicing. A wide waste of sand-blown -desert stretched before us; not a tree was -visible save a few small cottonwoods along the -Rio Puerco, which, being interpreted, means -“river of mud”—though sand would be more -appropriate just now. In the rainy season it -often becomes a raging torrent, cutting off access -for the time to the southern forests, but Mr. -Campbell hoped to have a bridge before long. -For six miles we followed the desert trail, often -nearly obliterated by the drifting sand. No human -habitations were in sight, only rocks and -sagebrush-studded sand with fragments of a pre-historic -Indian village or two.</p> - -<p>The first forest is not of great extent, but -is interesting for its famous natural log bridge, -sixty feet long, spanning a deep, tree-fringed -chasm. The great trunk is four or five feet in -diameter and despite earnest protests from the -female contingent I walked across it in face of -the gale, which was, of course, the only element -of danger.</p> - -<p>The second forest is larger, comprising<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span> -about two thousand acres. It has many huge -trunks almost intact, including the “Twin Sisters,” -the most distinguishing feature of this -forest. Gulliver assured us, however, that the -third forest, six or seven miles farther, was the -one most deserving of our attention and if, when -we had done this, we still hankered for petrified -forests, we could stop again at the first two on -our return. He took occasion to regale us with -additional chapters from his personal experiences—some -of which might indeed have fitted very -appropriately in the career of his namesake. I -suggested that he ought to wear goggles to protect -his eyes from the sand—one of them was -badly blood-shot.</p> - -<p>“The sand hain’t got nothing to do with -that eye,” he said. “One time when I was on the -range I got into a little dispute with another -cow-puncher and he shoved his gun in my face. -I knocked it to one side but the bullet grazed -my cheek, and I got a bad powder burn in the -eye.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I suppose you didn’t do a thing to -that fellow,” I ventured.</p> - -<p>“Just took his gun away from him and told -him to be more keerful next time—but here’s the -third forest. We’ll just leave the Ford and take -a little round on foot.”</p> - -<p>And, indeed, we soon agreed that one who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span> -wishes to see the real wonder and beauty of the -petrified forests may well devote most of his -time to the third, or Rainbow Forest, as it is -known locally. Here are hundreds of huge stone -trunks, many five or six feet in diameter, and -over two hundred feet long, lying as they fell, -but broken by some mighty convulsion into sections -a few feet in length. Every detail of the -bark is preserved, in some cases in apparently -its original colors, so that except for the fractures -one might imagine before him a great redwood -log of comparatively recent date. But the -great marvel of color is seen in fractures—every -tint of the prism, with blood-red and golden -yellow predominating, combine to astonish and -delight the beholder. The grain and annual rings -of growth are plainly marked on many of the -gigantic blocks, enabling scientists to judge -pretty accurately of the age of the trees when -destruction overtook them—and some of them -had surely attained their millennium. Everywhere -on the sands were scattered millions of -jewel-like fragments, glittering in the sun and -exciting our cupidity to possess specimens of -these curious prismatic gems. We picked up -what seemed the most beautiful specimens only -to discard them for others that happened to -strike our fancy more forcibly, and in the end -we had stowed away several pounds of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span> -wonderful stone-wood in Gulliver’s Ford. Of -course we knew that only the smallest fraction—a -few glistening chips—could be taken with -us, but Sinbad the Sailor in the valley of diamonds -must have experienced much the same -feelings as ourselves amidst these exhaustless -jewels. For there is no danger of the tourists -depleting the supply. Millions of tons, covering -square miles in area, are scattered about on the -surface and perhaps as much more is buried just -beneath it. Commercial exploitation of the wood -was prohibited since December 1906, when the -forests were made a national monument and the -preservation of these wonderful deposits is thus -assured for all time to come.</p> - -<p>Many solutions have been offered to the -question, How did natural forces operate to produce -this almost incredible spectacle which our -eyes behold? “The wise guys say that these -trees grew hundreds of miles from the place,” -said Gulliver, “and some big flood washed them -here and buried them under a half mile of sand. -There they laid a million years or so, changing -into stone, and then along comes another flood -and washes the sand off from ’em.”</p> - -<p>There are other explanations in the books, -but perhaps this is as good as any; it all must -have happened before the advent of the human -race upon earth and before the surface of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span> -earth had assumed the definite shape which now -confronts us. Some declare that a great inland -sea overwhelmed this prehistoric forest and the -petrification took place beneath its waters, which -deposited deep layers of rock and sand over the -trees. But however it occurred, the great marvel -is before our eyes, acres and acres, profusely -covered with chalcedony, agate, onyx, cornelian, -and amethyst, for all of these are here in color -if not in actual composition. Though no habitation -now greets the eye—the only structure being -a covered platform on a little eminence affording -a view of a wide area of this strange -prostrate forest—human beings once lived -among these weirdly-colored stone trees. Skeletons -and rare old potteries are often unearthed -and ruins of Aztec villages are found in this -vicinity. How these primitive men subsisted -here is hard to conjecture, for it would be difficult -to imagine a land more inhospitable for the -support of animal life.</p> - -<p>When we were preparing to return, I asked -Gulliver if it were not possible to visit the Blue -Forest, to complete our round of the wonders.</p> - -<p>“The Blue Forest,” he snorted in disgust, -“that’s one of John Muir’s fakes. Nothing there -worth seeing and would take you another day; -have to make the trip with a team.”</p> - -<p>The latter assertion was sufficient to quench<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span> -our desire to visit the Blue Forest and the question -whether it was one of John Muir’s fakes or -not became a matter of indifference.</p> - -<p>“There’ll still be time for you to visit the -hieroglyphics after you get back if you want to,” -said Gulliver, “but that’s another trip that even -a Ford can’t make; it’s only a four-mile round, -though, and the team can do it in an hour. No, -I don’t drive the team myself; I just officiate as -chauffeur. Alkali Ike will do it about right, -though, and he knows more about them hieroglyphics -than the fellers that scratched them on -the rocks. They’re mighty curious, and you’ll -miss it if you don’t see them.”</p> - -<p>We didn’t propose to miss it and a small -charabanc was ordered forthwith on our return -to the hotel, as several others proposed to join -our party. The wind was raging stronger than -ever and the whole river wash was hidden in -clouds of driven sand. Through this we had to -pass at a snail’s pace, for it was heavy going. -We could scarcely see a foot ahead and the stinging -sand filled our eyes and hair and when anyone -tried to speak he got a mouthful of it. The -driver bowed his head and let the horses wallow -along at their own pace until they finally -scrambled up the opposite bank.</p> - -<p>A few rods beyond the river the driver asked -us to dismount and led us among the huge sandstone<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span> -ledges which overlook the valley. He first -conducted us to the prehistoric ruins of an Aztec -community house, where walls of rough stone -about a foot in height laid in mortar mark the -outlines of numerous dwellings which fronted a -plaza one hundred and thirty feet wide by two -hundred and ten feet long. Near the center of -this court has been found a small “kiva” or underground -ceremonial chamber similar to those -of the pueblos to-day, and the flagstone pavement -is still in good preservation.</p> - -<p>Near this ruin the hieroglyphics may be -seen; they are cut in the stones of the cliffs along -the river for the distance of more than a mile. -The “cutting,” however, of the smooth sandstone -has been done with some hard substance, -probably bits of petrified wood, rather than any -metal instrument. Some of the carvings are -probably symbolical, and the meaning is not -easy to decipher. Others, however, tell their -story plainly enough. The most ambitious effort -is supposed to represent a royal wedding. The -figures indicate dancing and rejoicing and the -priest may be distinguished by the symbolic -“bird of wisdom” which he holds in his hand. -There are also representations of flocks and -herds and many individual birds and animals, -some quite cleverly done. There is a long-legged -stork, and what he holds in his bill is evidently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span> -intended for a frog, though it might pass for a -baby by a stretch of the imagination. Altogether, -these strange carvings are as interesting -as they are mysterious. Their age can only be -guessed at, but few authorities put it at less than -a thousand years. No history exists of the people -whose lives are represented here; even tradition -is silent.</p> - -<p>After inspecting the ruins and the hieroglyphics -in the immediate vicinity, we were driven -for a mile or so beneath the mighty cliffs along -the river. At intervals additional carvings were -to be seen, often high up on the rocks. Returning, -we passed near the scene of the round-up, -where a few cowboys were still engaged in branding -the calves—a scene which none of the ladies -of the party wished to linger over. It was nearly -dark when we recrossed the river—if we may -use the name for the wide strip of sand where -the Puerco rages at rare intervals. The wind -had slightly subsided, though the sand was still -disagreeable enough.</p> - -<p>We were quite ready for a substantial dinner, -but things were still badly disarranged at -the hotel. A dance always follows a round-up -and of course none of the hotel girls were willing -to miss such an event. Even the cook had disappeared -and the guests had to be satisfied with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span> -the efforts of Mr. Campbell and wife, who rose -to the occasion in a very creditable manner.</p> - -<p>After dinner the guests lounged about the -comfortable lobby of the hotel; there was little -to attract one to the rooms until he was ready -to go to bed. I don’t know whether it was a -representative petrified-forest crowd or not, but -it was certainly cosmopolitan. There was a -Dutch doctor and his wife from Java—exceedingly -non-committal on the subject of the -European War; a middle-aged English lady, -professing to be an invalid but doing the hardest -“stunts” everywhere—she even ate the cowboy -dinner at the round-up—accompanied by a very -intelligent Danish lady as a companion and -manager; and several plain American citizens -like ourselves from widely scattered sections of -the country. The conversation, as may be imagined, -was varied and generally interesting. -The proprietor, who joined us later, told many -entertaining anecdotes of his experiences in the -Indian country to which he made frequent visits -to purchase blankets for his store. He said that -he made it a rule never to decline the hospitality -of the Indians or traders, no matter how filthy -they might be, since they were sure to resent -any squeamishness on part of a visitor.</p> - -<p>“I was invited to eat in one shack,” he said, -“where conditions beggared description (I fancy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span> -the principal dish was dog); and where the table -was simply black with flies, but I joined in as if -it had been a repast at the Waldorf-Astoria. -That’s the only way to get the confidence and -the genuine friendship of these people. Of -course, I was situated differently from the ordinary -tourist, for I have regular dealings with -both the Indians and the traders.”</p> - -<p>The guests generally joined in expressing -the hope that circumstances might not arise to -put their good manners to such a test.</p> - -<p>Mr. Campbell has occasionally outfitted and -conducted parties to the various Indian reservations -and particularly to the Moki Snake Dance. -On his last excursion to Moki-land he conducted -a party of some thirty people at a round rate of -two hundred and fifty dollars per head, and the -general impression prevailed among them that -he was coining money a la Rockefeller. The -fact was, he assured us, that so great were the -difficulties in securing supplies and especially -forage for the horses, that his profits on the trip -were negligible.</p> - -<p>The round trip to the Navajo country can -be made via Ford in two days and Gulliver had -orders to be ready to take the “invalid” English -lady and her companion on this excursion the -following day, but it was deferred on account of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span> -the wind storm which raged in even greater fury -than the day before.</p> - -<p>Campbell is an expert on Navajo blankets, -of which he has a very large collection in the -little store which he runs in connection with his -hotel. There are blankets of all degrees, ranging -up to three hundred dollars in price. During -the holidays he does a considerable mail-order -business in all parts of the country by means of -a magazine advertising campaign.</p> - -<p>At breakfast we found the serving girls -again on the job, looking a little blase after the -dissipation of the round-up and dance. They declared -the latter a disappointment; it was too -tame and uneventful. “Why, there wasn’t even -a fight,” said a blonde-haired German damsel -who brought our coffee and hot cakes. To elucidate -her remark, Mr. Campbell explained that -while “gun toting” in Arizona is entirely obsolete -and bloodshed quite as uncommon and unpopular -as in any part of the country, few dances -in Adamana end without a fist-fight between -some of the cowboys. Naturally, the men greatly -outnumber the maidens and contests for favors -are almost sure to result in warlike demonstrations. -The ladies have doubtless come to consider -these collisions between rivals as in some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span> -degree a tribute to the popularity of the female -sex and when a dance passes off too peaceably -they feel as if their charms have not been adequately -appreciated.</p> - -<p>We boarded the California Limited about -noon to resume our eastward journey. We -agreed that the Petrified Forests are well worth -while; we are sure that if the traveling public -was generally aware how easily these strange -stone trees can be reached and how well visitors -are taken care of by Mr. Campbell and his helpers—not -forgetting the efficient and entertaining -Gulliver—a far greater number of passengers -would “drop off” for a day or two at Adamana.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div id="ip_314" class="newpage figcenter" style="max-width: 50em;"> - <div class="caption"><p class="bold b1 large">Map Showing Author’s Route in California</p></div> - <img src="images/i405.jpg" width="800" height="960" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p class="bold large">Oregon Map on Reverse of Sheet</p></div> - -<p class="p0 in0 in4 xsmall"><span class="in3">By Courtesy of</span><br /> -THE OREGON JOURNAL<br /> -<span class="in2">Portland, Oregon</span></p> -</div> - -<div id="ip_314b" class="newpage p4 figcenter" style="max-width: 50em;"> - <img src="images/i406.jpg" width="800" height="1054" alt="" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="index"> -<h2 id="INDEX" class="nobreak p1">INDEX</h2> - -<ul class="index nobreak"> -<li class="ifrst">A</li> - -<li class="indx">Adamana, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Albany, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Albion, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Alturas, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Annie Creek Canyon, <a href="#Page_84">84–85</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Applegate, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Arcata, <a href="#Page_207">207–208</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Astoria, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Auburn, <a href="#Page_28">28–30</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">B</li> - -<li class="indx">Bear Valley, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Bell Springs Mountain, <a href="#Page_216">216–218</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220–228</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Bend, <a href="#Page_112">112–116</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Bly, <a href="#Page_74">74–76</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Bonneville, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">C</li> - -<li class="indx">Celilo, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Chinese Camp, <a href="#Page_270">270–271</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Clear Lake Valley, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Cloverdale, <a href="#Page_238">238–241</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Colfax, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Coloma, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Columbia River Highway, <a href="#Page_135">135–153</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Cow Creek Canyon, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Crater Lake, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81–109</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Crescent, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Crescent City, <a href="#Page_195">195–199</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">D</li> - -<li class="indx">Dalles, The, <a href="#Page_125">125–132</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Del Norte Redwoods, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193–194</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Deschutes River, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115–120</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Donner Lake, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33–34</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Dutch Flat, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Dyerville, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">E</li> - -<li class="indx">Eagle Lake, <a href="#Page_65">65–66</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Emigrant Gap, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Eugene, <a href="#Page_173">173–175</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Eureka, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209–219</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">F</li> - -<li class="indx">Fort Bragg, <a href="#Page_233">233–234</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Fortuna, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Fresno, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">G</li> - -<li class="indx">Glenbrook, <a href="#Page_48">48–51</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Globe, <a href="#Page_287">287–288</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Gold Run, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Goose Lake, <a href="#Page_69">69–72</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Grant, Ulysses S., <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Grants Pass, <a href="#Page_179">179–185</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">H</li> - -<li class="indx">Harriman, E. H., <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Harris, <a href="#Page_223">223–225</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Harrisburg, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Harte, Bret, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213–215</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span></li> - -<li class="indx">Hetch Hetchy Valley, <a href="#Page_266">266–267</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Honey Lake, <a href="#Page_63">63–64</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Hood River, <a href="#Page_132">132–135</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Horse Lake, <a href="#Page_67">67–68</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">J</li> - -<li class="indx">Jacksonville, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">K</li> - -<li class="indx">Klamath Falls, <a href="#Page_74">74–81</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Klamath, Fort, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Klamath, Lake, <a href="#Page_81">81–83</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">L</li> - -<li class="indx">Lakeview, <a href="#Page_72">72–74</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Lancaster, Mr. S. C., <a href="#Page_138">138–139</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Latourelle Falls, <a href="#Page_149">149–150</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Laytonville, <a href="#Page_229">229–232</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Little River, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Lost River, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">M</li> - -<li class="indx">McCrays, <a href="#Page_239">239–241</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Madeline Plains, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Mariposa Grove, <a href="#Page_251">251–253</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Mendocino City, <a href="#Page_234">234–235</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Multnomah Falls, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">O</li> - -<li class="indx">Oregon City, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Orick, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">P</li> - -<li class="indx">Painted Desert, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Pais Creek Canyon, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Patrick’s Creek, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Petrified Forest, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Phoenix, <a href="#Page_277">277–294</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Placerville, <a href="#Page_45">45–46</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Portland, <a href="#Page_154">154–161</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Priest’s, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Putnam, George Palmer, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">R</li> - -<li class="indx">Reno, <a href="#Page_57">57–61</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Requa, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Rogue River, <a href="#Page_102">102–103</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Roosevelt Dam, <a href="#Page_277">277–289</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Roseburg, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">S</li> - -<li class="indx">Sacramento, <a href="#Page_23">23–27</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Salem, <a href="#Page_169">169–170</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Sand Creek Canyon, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Santa Rosa Valley, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241–242</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Sequoia, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Shaniko, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Shepperd’s Dell, <a href="#Page_148">148–149</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Stockton, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Storm Crest Tunnel, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Sunday, Billy, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Susanville, <a href="#Page_64">64–65</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Sutter, Col. John H., <a href="#Page_26">26</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">T</li> - -<li class="indx">Tahoe, Lake, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35–44</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Tallac, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Trinidad, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Truckee, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Tuolumne Grove, <a href="#Page_265">265–267</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Tygh Valley, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li> -<li class="ifrst">V<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span></li> - -<li class="indx">Vancouver, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">W</li> - -<li class="indx">Waldo, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Wawona, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Wellman, John W., <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Westport, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Willamette Valley, <a href="#Page_163">163–167</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Winthrop, Theodore, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">Y</li> - -<li class="indx">Yolo Trestle, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</li> - -<li class="indx">Yosemite Valley, <a href="#Page_245">245–274</a>.</li> -</ul> -</div></div> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="transnote"> -<h2 id="Transcribers_Notes" class="nobreak p1">Transcriber’s Notes</h2> - -<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made -consistent when a predominant preference was found -in the original book; otherwise they were not changed.</p> - -<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced -quotation marks were remedied when the change was -obvious, and otherwise left unbalanced.</p> - -<p>The index was not checked for proper alphabetization -or correct page references.</p> - -<p>Page <a href="#Page_215">215</a>: “in his first essay” was misprinted as -“in first his essay”; corrected here.</p> -</div></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Oregon the Picturesque, by Thomas D. 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