E 168 .W52 A. L. Westgard Field Representatwe, American Automobile Association, Vice-President and Director Transcontinental Highivays, National Highivays Association TALES OF A PATHFINDER BY A. L. WESTGARD PRICE ONE DOLLAR AND A HALF Published By A. L. WESTGARD 501 Fifth Ave. New York copvrr;ht I'ljo BY A. L. WESTGARD P:,b!isli,;l, Manii 1<)20 MAY i 3 1920 PRESS OF ANDREW B. GRAHAM CO. WASMINeTON. D. C- ©CI.A565915 r To my luifc, wJio has shared ivith me the hardships as ivell as the pleasures of the trail, ever a cheerful comrade and a trusty ad-riser. Foreword THE story of the highways Is the story of mankind, whether In a state of barbarism or of civilization. The movement of primitive peoples has been by waterways and land-routes which, following lines of least resistance, often appropriated the trails made by wild animals. The movements of civilized men likewise followed the least resistive lines with the result that the great railways and the National highways coincide with the game-trails and the Indian paths of long ago. The ascent of man has been in direct ratio to the progress that has been made In the speed, safety, comfort and convenience of the movement of men and goods from one place to another. The wheel is the emblem of human progress. The supreme evolution of the wheel is the auto- mobile. Already six and a half million automobiles are daily employed In speeding a third of the population of the United States along their way with the demand increasing so rapidly that the factories are unable to meet It. Every Intelligent citizen in the United States knows that the next big job for America now that the war Is over is to construct road beds as perfectly adapted to the economic operation thereon of motor vehicles as the road bed of the railway is adapted to the use thereon of its rolling stock. The two and a half million miles of roads in the United States will be made modern highways as rapidly as the work can be financed and the men and material secured for the purpose. The strength of the States and the counties will be put forth in increas- ing measure until this result is secured. The Federal Government has already placed the zero milestone in Washington to designate the point from which a system of National highways will extend clear to the surf-beat of the Pacific and from lands of snow to lands of sun. The Federal Government, the States and the Counties are working out a system of National, State and County highways, the most important of which will be the first improved. The creation of such a system of highways will do more for the welfare and advance- ment of the people of the United States, more for the unity, security, development and glory of the Nation than could possibly be accomplished by a like expenditure of money and energ}^ in any other line of endeavor. If this be true, what is the measure of the debt of gratitude which the public owes to the apostles of better roads and to the men who have pioneered the ways that are now to become the great National Thoroughfares. Among the latter, chief indeed of the Pathfinders, is the author of this volume, A. L. Westgard. The year 1903 saw him driving his first car on the roads of New York. Since then he has been the constant explorer of the ways that lead from east to west, from north to south, inspecting, mapping, publishing, making men know and appreciate what a country this is; urging the delights of the open road and the life of the great out doors. Almost all of the more than forty great highways along lines of latitude and longi- tude follow the trail of his pathfinding car — or cars — for he has worn out eighteen cars in this work. His services in this interest have made him a benefactor of humanity. If, as I believe, the most important fact for Americans is America, the main part in the educa- tion of an American citizen is to know America. This book is a direct contribution to this end. Dr. S. M. Johnson. March, 1920. Roswell, New Mexico, and Washington, D. C. By Way of Explanation THE days of the pathfinder of motor-car routes are about over. With few exceptions the routes that may become trunk-line high- ways are already beaten paths of known quality and future work in connection with routes will concentrate on improving surface conditions. It has been contended that the pathfinder's work of the past has been an important factor in the development of the good roads movement and consequently of the automobile and allied indus- tries, and it is in response to frequent urgings of my many friends within these industries that this book was written. The illustrations are mostly intended to show the difficulties encountered in motor-car pathfinding of the past, before the advent in any considerable measure of the Good Roads movement, largely founded on the pathfinder's work. A. L. Westgard. PAGIi 13 The Desert Tramp 21 The Cow and the Route Book 26 A Modern Noah's Ark 33 ... 37 Chapters The Trundle Wheei The Desei Optimism The Cow Marooned A Modern No Gasoline— And Yet Frenchman's Station 41 Faculty of Orientation 46 Yuma Border 47 A Morman Dance 48 A Mexican Wedding 49 The Yuma Mummy Notorious The Padre's Prophesy 57 Pesky Pests Good Fellows ... 64 Saladito Price Canyon Pan, My Pal ^^ 79 Close Connection 09 Deadly Figures R4 The Black River Crossing 89 TusT Frogs 91 Diamondbacks The Top of the Cascades ^^ In the Bighorns Photographing the Red Man 106 Americans All 11 PAGE Some "Hotels" 118 Lost — But Recovered 122 The Un-Named Pass 124 Our National Parks 128 The Forage Stations 133 Forest Fires 137 A Close Call 141 Indian Slough 145 The Gospel and Good Roads 150 Kicking Up the Dust of Ages 153 Sectional Rivalry 159 Out West 166 Convict Labor 169 At the Grand Canyon 173 Hazing the Lord 175 Colorado Mutton 177 The Queen of the Desert 178 Queen Victoria 181 Tickling the Carburetor 182 'Ware Handshaking 183 Prospectors 184 Sharp Shooting 187 A Town's Disgrace 189 Gates 192 Historic Markers 195 Gentlemen of the Press 197 Bad Intentions 199 The Sandstorm 201 Sniping Gringoes 204 The Padre Typographers 206 Texas The Great 208 A Tight Squeeze 212 Appendix 215 12 The Trundle Wheel WHEN I was a young man, I was employed by a publishing house engaged in issuing State, county and city atlases and maps all over the United States. In the county atlases the maps covered towns or townships and villages. The property dimensions along country roads, espe- cially in the Eastern States, where the section system of dividing land into units of a mile square did not prevail, were obtained by the use of the so-called trundle wheel. This consisted of a large, very light wooden wheel, with two long handles reaching from the hub, and by the means of these the contrivance was pushed along country roads. The diameter of the wheel was about five feet. The revolutions of the wheel were measured on an odometer at the hub, and the circumference in feet multiplied by the number of revolutions of the wheel would give the distance covered between points. On the handles was fastened a plane-table with compass attached, to get the proper bearings of the road at bends and turns. While the trundle wheel may seem a crude con- trivance it worked with great accuracy, but it was no lazy man's job to push it along from twenty to thirty miles a day and work out the bearings, mark the property lines, their lengths and courses, as well as the location of the houses along the road, on the map on the plane-table, besides stopping to get the name of the owner of each property. I have cov- ered thousands of miles footing it along country roads in this manner and this was my initiation into 13 14 THE TRUNDLE WHEEL pathfinding work. The wide scope of the work also gave me a rather intimate knowledge of roads and soil conditions in many widely separated sections of the country. This knowledge was further amplified upon the arrival of the pneumatic-tired bicycle, which, as the railroads did to the canals, superseded the trundle wheel and relegated it to a historic past. Then followed the automobile. While in the early days of motordom as much time was probably spent under the car tinkering as in the driver's seat, the trundle wheel in comparison to the modern automobile is as the prehistoric ruins in our South- The io'vjcring red sandstone rocks in Glen Eyrie, near Colorado Springs, Colo., assume many grotesque sliapes, as the central pinnacle in this picture, ^-hich is appro- priately called "The Judge" west compared to modern city skyscrapers. From the trundle wheel to the bicycle and to the auto- mobile I used progressively the means at hand and seem to have grown into pathfinding work. It has 'Jill' TRUNDLE WHEEL 15 been very interesting work too. The preparation of dependable route maps all over the United States has in no small measure helped in their development and the desire to travel over them. The main routes have by reason of their known quality as first learned through the medium of the pathfinder's work become the standardized routes of today. The travel induced over certain main lines, as a conse- quence of the work of the pioneer pathfinder, has in turn caused improvements running into the hun- dreds of millions of dollars, to be followed by bil- lions of more dollars as time rolls on. The path- finder's work, beginning with the trundle wheel, will thus be seen to have been the very foundation stone, the very first beginning of the good-roads movement which now has taken such an impetus tliat unquestionably a system of nationally built and maintained highways will be constructed as a M/i/iy 0] these p'uiiirr.ujiw, idstelldted formations of sJiale and clay, border the main route in southern IVyoming 16 THE TRUNDLE WHEEL framework for the thousands of miles of roads which will be built by states and counties to sup- plement them as feeders. I feel no small pride for having had the privilege and opportunity to help in the pioneer pathfinding work which has borne such magnificent fruit. While 1 am now counted the veteran of the guild I am as keenly as ever watching the development along all the main trunk lines of the country and doing my humble share in helping to keep up the interest in sections where lethargy may show too healthy signs. Incidentally 1 count the year lost that I cannot personally inspect the progress of work on at least two of the standard transconti- nental lines. Eighteen transcontinental trips and more than that many between the North and South boundaries of the United States on rubber tires are behind me and I am still going. The Desert Tramp WE LEFT Yuma one bright morning to in- spect the route up the Gila Valley, which is now distinguished beyond that of any other in the United States, because in spite of its desert character, it is an important link in four dis- tinct Transcontinental routes, viz. : the Dixie Over- land Highway, the Bankhead Highway, the South- ern National Highway and the Old Spanish Trail, besides figuring as a link in the Borderland Trail. However, at the time of our trip here concerned none of these promotions had been conceived and, as then there was no bridge across the Gila River at Antelope Hill, it was necessary to ferry or ford across the Gila at Dome Station and follow a rather uncertain desert trail via Castle Dome and Middle Well, joining the route as now laid out at Las Palomas. We had expected to reach Aguas Calientes, where there were primitive accommoda- tions for travelers, before dark, but owing to very rough and chucky trail between Yuma and Dome and some slow going near Middle Well darkness overtook us before we reached Las Palomas. As we had no commissary we decided to push on to Aguas Calientes in spite of the lateness of the hour. The country was dotted with giant Saguaro cactus and creosote bushes which took on all sorts of weird shapes in the glare of our acetylene head- lights. About ten o'clock it seemed to me that I saw some moving object far ahead and thought it was probably a skulking coyote, but as we forged ahead our headlights picked up a man walking towards us along the dim path. 17 18 THE DESERT TRAMP As the spot was miles from any habitation it was hard to believe one's eyes, as certainly no sane person would brave this barren and desolate arid country on a mere hike. That would be gambling with death in too reckless a fashion. As w^e drew near we noticed that the man was weaving sideways or stumbling ahead like a drunken person. He even- tually stopped as we were a couple of hundred feet distant and fell prone on the ground. On reaching him I jumped off the car and bent over his prostrate body and only then realized that here was one of those terrible cases where a human had almost succumbed to the grasp of the desert. He was about all in from thirst. Filling a cup from our canvass water bag I fed water to him a drop at a time and as he gradually regained strength had to use physical force to prevent him from gulping down the entire contents of the cup at one draught. The wonder of a few drops of the life-giving fluid ! Very gradually increasing the dose of water ad- ministered at a few minutes interval he was in an hour's time able to sit up and eat a few crackers which were found in our lunch box. He was a sorry individual indeed, unkempt, blear-eyed, and very poorly clad. He carried an ordinary empty beer bottle tied with a string to his waist but had no bundle of clothing nor anything containing food. Eventually he was strong enough to give us his story or at least what was purported to be his story. Three days previously he had left Las Palomas, which by the way was only some ten miles distant, in search of a prospector's camp which he liad been told was only a dozen miles awav at the side of a THE DESERT TRAMP 19 mountain plainly visible from Las Palomas. It may be well to state here that Las Palomas is not a settlement but merely a tiesert trading store cater- ing to the occasional prospectors who with their outfits and burros roam over the desert in search of the El Dorado which is always expected to be discovered tomorrow. He had failed to locate the camp and had utterly lost his sense of orientation, wandering haphazardly about without knowing where he was headed. He had had nothing to eat since leaving Las Palomas and only the one pint bottle of water while his suffering from the daytime heat of the desert was, if anything, only increased by the cold of the nights which penetrated his poorly clad body. In spite of his terrible experience and narrow escape from madness and probable death he insisted The sandy trail throiigh the Imver Gila J'alley desert, Arizona, can hardly he called a boulevard, in spite of "oung man and incidentallv received the inspiration to write of the West. As we proceeded up the Yellowstone Valley, along the historic path of many a doughty pioneer, trapper. Indian and soldier we learned of floods in the upper reaches of the river, caused by the melt- ing snows of the Rocky Mountains. Ha\ing had a rather hazardous experience in crossing the Pow- der River, as told elsewhere, we pitched camp one night at a ranch house, which was located on a knoll near the lonesome station of Zero. There was more than irony in that name. When we awoke next morning we were located on an island, the knoll being entirely surrounded by floodwater from the river which flowed nearby. The rancher assured us that there was no cause for apprehension as he had had this experience in June every year of the three years he had lived there and that the water would subside in a couple of 26 MAROONED 27 days at the most. In the meantime the water was still rising and our island gradually growing smaller while the shores seemed to grow more distant hourly. However we felt reassured by the rancher's con- fidence and proceeded to have as good a time as the circumstances would allow. As our commissary was practically empty when we reached this locality, it having been our intention to replenish it at Miles City, we were dependent on the rancher and his good wife for meals and we were very hospitably made to feel that we were welcome to share what- ever their larder afforded. The continual rising of the w^ater caused us considerable anxiety and I noted that the rancher was not altogether easy in his mind. Near dusk it seemed that the flood had about reached the peak and though our island by that time seemed mighty small we retired for the night with the feeling that it would have grown to much greater size by morning. In this expectation we found ourselves disappointed when daylight revealed about the same condition as the night before. All day we watched the flood racing by carrying trees, logs, sheds and small houses and by night time there seemed to be no appreciable diminution in the stage of the water. We had by then become so used to the idea of being marooned that the familiarity with the strange and fascinating spec- tacle of the raging waters, as well as with the pos- sible danger of our situation, had in some degree blunted our fears. The following morning the waters were a trifle higher than the night before, our island was now not over an acre in extent. 28 MAROOXI.n \\'hilc catiiiiT bicaktast at the ranch house that iiiorninL: 1 Lrot the impression tliat it seemed com- paratively scant in volume and the housewife evi- denced considerable anxiety while servino; us. How- ever these manifestations were not sufHciently pro- nounced to leave a lasting remembrance and were soon forgotten in the more important business of watching the flood. On the fourth day the waters showed only a barely appreciable diminution and the housewife confessed to being out of Hour for bread, the Hood having caught them just as they were about to lay in a new supply oi food of various kinds, which had in fact reached the railroad sta- tion but had not yet been hauled home. The situation now became more serious as there was no other food available except some chickens and three or four turkevs. On the seventh dav the ^4 Montana "couUt-s'' often ha^'t' soft oo-zy bor.oms. Thr coii-f'ony, hy aid of a lariat connecting the saddle horn li'i'h the front axle, brought our car out of this predica- ment in a jiffy MAROON KD -^ chickens were all eaten and how we did hate chickens, tried, stewed or otherwise prepared, by the time the last was consumed. After the iirst turkey things seemed indeed dark, just fowl with- out potatoes, bread or biscuits, became as bad as the proverbial mule of civil war time when the choice in some army camps rested between fried, roasted, stewed or jerked mule days on end. To our great relief and pleasant surprise we had on the tenth day for breakfast a dish of delicious white meat which seemed exceedingly palatable after the continuous diet of fowl. Our curiosity was intense to know what it was and whence it came. After much persuasion the rancher told us he had been lucky enough to catch a couple of prairie dogs, which had been driven out of their flooded under- ground apartment, and wasn't it lucky? Well, maybe it was, but the expression on the faces of us three Easteners did not seem to indicate that we appreciated our luck. Especially my wife seemed to show an utter lack of appreciation of this good fortune if one could judge by the wobegone expres- sion on her face. We were marooned on tliis Robinson Crusoe island sixteen days in all, and eventually after arduous struggles across soggy river flats succeeded in piloting our car into IVIiles City. And it may be believed that bread and butter and coffee and pie, and then some more bread and butter, tasted like the manna and ambrosia of the Gods! And then to top it all off— a pipe of blissful smoke. Chickens, ofEered in any style whatsoever, had no attraction for us for several years after. A Modern Noah's Ark ON ONE occasion while inspecting the route which later became the famous River-to- River road across Iowa, we failed on account of slow and heavy going, to reach the town where we had planned to spend the night, and as my car always, even nowadays when en route, car- ries a camping outfit, we pulled into a school-house yard to pitch camp for the night. As there usually is good drinking water, a supply of wood and other conveniences available in country school-house yards, they were and are now favorite camping places in the West and this particular yard was especially inviting because it was level and smooth and was carpeted with a thick even crop of grass. After having erected the tent and sitting down to our supper a boy came riding into the yard, made a tour of inspection and disappeared down the road at a lively gallop. Shortly he reappeared accompanied by a team hauling an immense wagon built like a house, with doors and curtained windows and painted gaily like a gypsie wagon, also by another smaller wagon be- hind which a cow was tied with a short rope. This caravan pulled into the yard and stopped a few feet from our camp. Shortly the most wonderful collection of animate things appeared. Besides the four horses and the cow there came from those wagons two hogs, two goats, four geese, three ducks, a half dozen chickens, six dogs of various sizes and breeds, a cat, a monkey and a parrot, in fact the wagon proved a veritable Noah's Ark. 30 A MODERN NOAH S ARK 31 After stretching their cramped limbs these various species of the animal kingdom proceeded to inspect the premises and showed a special fondness for in- specting our camp and its equipment. The boss of this outfit was a tremendous giant of a woman who assured us that her animals were merely curious and asked us not to mind them, which advice was easier to give than to follow. The squawk of ducks, hissing of geese, crowing of cocks, grunting of hogs, barking of dogs and chattering of the parrot and the monkey furnished a veritable bedlam of noises while the woman, her male hired hand and the boy proceeded to milk the cow and the goats, attend to the horses and get their camp ready. Everything was done with dispatch as each had his particular task to perform, and in an hour's time everything was properly tucked away for the night, even the animals seemed to know by long training, exactly what was expected of them. mj. On the dirt roads of the Middle West prairie States it is a ivise precaution to use Weed chains on front and rear ijcheels ivhen the roads are nvet 32 A MODERN NOAH's ARK Now came the time for a visit over the campfire and the woman proved a very interesting talker, recounting her manj^ varied experiences on the road. She was what is called in the West a ''drifter," that is a person who is never satisfied to stay long enough in one place to become a part of the community. She had roamed this way over the West for many years, a sort of self-sufficient and self-reliant tramp, making a living by trading lace and embroideries to farmer's wives and occasionally trading some live- stock and varying this legitimate "business" by tell- ing fortunes whenever she found a gullible speci- men. Within her limitations and requirements she said she managed to get along, felt free to come and go wherever the fancy dictated and to "be her own boss and owe nobody a debt either of money or gratitude." She was a shrewd philosopher of the native sort. Next morning we got started by the time her "crew" were harnessing their horses and w^e parted w^ith her assurance that she would run across us again somewhere between the Alleghenies and the Rockies. No Gasoline — and Yet ON MY first trip into the Apache country I had been assured that if I could only reach Springerville, gasoline would undoubtedly be found at that settlement. We left McCarthy sta- tion on the Santa Fe railroad and cut across country on faint trails meandering across mountains, be- tween lava beds and cliffs, using mountain peaks as guiding landmarks, and finally after ninety mile^ of the roughest kind of going, unfit for wagons, let alone motor cars, made Nations' Ranch with the gasoline tank almost empty and with more than forty miles yet to go to Springerville. As luck would have it a few gallons of the precious fluid were found at the ranch, where it had been kept for a pumping engine and this enabled us to reach Springerville. My motor car, or ''outfit," as the local people called it, was the first ever seen in this Mormon settlement, located so far from a railroad. Mr. Becker, the local merchant, who was later destined to become the greatest power for the Good-Roads movement in Eastern Arizona, thought I would surely be able to procure gasoline at Fort Apache, sixty miles further in the heart of the wild and exceedingly rough country of the MogoUon and White Mountains. As no motor car had ever be- fore visited the region, it seemed foolhardy, I was told, to attempt to reach the army post over the execrable trails across the volcanic plateau of the White Mountains, over nine thousand feet high. However, if I dared to undertake it the merchant was willing to give me the gasoline contained in the 33 34 NO GASOLINE AND YET At many a place in the rugged country of Colorado and Neiv Mexico, ivhere noiv the touring motorist finds ivell constructed highivays, the pathfinder struggled up nar- roiv defiles, steep and rocky Store-lamps, the only supply in the settlement. This scant supply coupled with the stories about the country ahead did not promise well, but neverthe- less we started out. The ascent of the mountains proved exceedingly arduous and so slow that we were overtaken by darkness and w^orse yet by a blizzard (it was in November) by the time we reached half way across the plateau. More than half frozen after a tough tussle with snowdrifts, cold blasts, buried lava boulders and lost trail, we arrived towards dawn at Cooley's Ranch, forty-two miles out, the only house on the way. After being thawed out and having partaken of a substantial breakfast we finally arrived at Fort Apache and found unbounded hospitality but no gasoline. Here was a serious situation. At the time there was only a small troop of cavalry with NO GASOLINE AND YET 35 three officers at the post and these three were very glad to see somebody from ''the outside," especially if that somebody would make a fourth hand at whist. Chatting about the gasoline situation be- tween deals I was offered all sorts of sympathy, but as this would not move motor cars it seemed there was nothing to do but sit down and wait for a team to go to Holbrook on the railroad for a supply, and freighters took two weeks for a round trip to that point. During the game the captain's "boy," a Filipino, came into the room for some uniforms that were hanging in a closet. He inspected these carefully and left the room with them. Asking the captain where the boy was going with the clothes at that time of night I was answered that he was to remove -m^ Ours ivas the first car that ever ventured to cross the 9000 ft. high plateau of the White mountains, in the Apache country, Arizona. Hidden under the snoiv ivere largo lava boulders ivhich immensely aggravated the difficulties of the crossing 36 NO GASOLINE AND YET some spots from them. Struck by an idea I suddenly came to life with a new hope and asked to be per- mitted to talk with the boy. He was called and was much surprised at my curiosity regarding what he used for removing the spots. He said he used a cleaning fluid which he got from the post quarter- master. In spite of the late hour the quartermaster was sent for and admitted having four or five gal- lons of this "cleaning fluid" in stock. Next morn- ing this very fluid made the engine frisky as a colt and the contents of the quartermatser's "cleaning fluid" container enabled me to reach Globe, sixty miles distant and the incident had become a mere experience of the trail. Nowadays gasoline and all sorts of motor car supplies are procurable at a number of places along the same route and a good cinder road crosses the White Mountains plauteau, while thousands of cars pass through Springerville every season — and it is onlj^ nine years since my first trip into this region. Frenchman's Station ONE moonbrlght midsummer's evening our party arrived at Frenchman's Station, lo- cated in the most arid part of Central Nevada near the trail that in former days was the Pony Express route and two generations later be- came the Lincoln Highway. The station was kept by a Frenchman who made a living by hauling water from a spring, twelve miles distant, and sell- ing it to freighters hauling ore and supplies between mining camps to the South and the railroad at Eureka. He also had sleeping accommodations in one of the two rooms in his cabin and furnished meals to travelers. As the hour was late and my wife somewhat tired, we thought, that rather than take the time to pitch the tent and prepare camp, we would look oyer the accommodations of the station. I was deputized to examine these and report. I found that the double iron bedstead in the "guest room" occupied every inch of space necessitating undressing in the other room or perform the feat in the bed somewhat in the manner necessary in a Pullman berth. The facts were promptly reported back to the car. Friend wife thought she had better have an in- dividual peep and after looking the situation over thought it would do if the host would furnish clean linen. After having this cryptic word explained to him as meaning clean sheets and pillow cases he rolled his eyes and sputtered a flow of protestations assuring us that we need have no worry about the linen as the people who slept in that bed last were 37 38 frenchman's station perfectly clean people, in fact as he put it : "as clean as Bill Taft." Mr. Taft at that time was our President. Eventually we succeeded in inducing the produc- tion of satisfactory bedding and proceeded out into the lean-to shed of a kitchen in anticipation of something to eat. Here my wife discovered a luscious-looking watermelon partly covered by a wet cloth to keep it cool and at once made a requisition on a generous slice. Our host, however, held up his hands in protest and with many apologies main- tained that to grant this request would be out of the question and entirely impossible as he had had it brought all the way from Reno in anticipation of the visit of the "great pathfinder" who was ex- On the Lincoln Highivay across Xf-vaJd there are several of these mud fiats. When dry they afford excellent going, but ivhen ivet become absolutely impassable for motor traffic and have caused great hardships and delay to transcontinental motor tourists. Extensive improvements, noiv under 'way, ivill make for comfortable travel through this region frenchman's station 39 pected over the route on an inspection trip as stated in the Reno papers and this was intended as a pleas- ing surprise to the great man. To encounter a luscious watermelon in the most arid part of Nevada, a hundred miles from a railroad, would be sure to convince him that after all this route had its advantages and should be advocated as a National touring boulevard and thus bring lucrative business to the station. When my wife asked who this great man was he produced a copy of a Reno newspaper a few days old which contained an account of the expected visit of her husband. The half-tone photograph accom- panying the article was taken when I wore city clothes and thus he had not recognized me. We chose not to enlighten him and enjoyed a fair meal sans watermelon. Our host in the meantime volubly set forth his bright prospects of future profits from travel over the expected boulevard. He was so earnest and enthusiastic that we did not have the heart to discourage him. Now on the door of my car was a small brass plate on which was engraved my name and official position. Next morning when I went out to the car to see if everything was all right, I found the watermelon on the tonneau floor covered by the wet cloth but our host was nowhere in sight. In fact we prepared our own breakfast and only when we were ready to depart did he come from behind a nearby small hill and with tears in his eyes uttered his profound mortification over the fact that he had not recognized me, and his hopes that I would not let "this unfortunate demonstration of his absurd 40 J^REXCHMAN S STATION Stupidity" inrtuence me against "locating the boule- vard" past his station. While the boulevard is still only on the maps this route has attracted such a share of the transconti- nental motor traffic that it is safe to assume that our host is reconciled for the lack of the boulevard by the increased flow of revenue from the tourist traffic. At least 1 hope he is as he was a cheerful, good old soul, residing alone out there in the barren and burning desert. In the Mogollon range of mountains^ in Arizona and S eii Mexico, mountain lions of great size abound. This hun- ter, ivhom the pathfinder encountered in this region, had a zi-agon load of mountain lion pelts Fiiculty of Of'icfitdtiofi Wllll.l\ niakiiiL:; the piDiu-cr motor sur\c'v up the ^'c^o^^stonc \'allo\ in IVIontana. onit \\iiat is now the National Parks Highway ami alsi) tho \'cUo\\stoiic 'I'rail, \vc arrived, after a hard tussle \\ ith llomleil ri\er flats, at the little town ot Custer. Here I found that further pro*:;ress up the valle\ was out of the question on account of the flood, so be^an investigating the possibility of work- ing out a way around throu!j;h the hills to the south. 1 was told there \\ as an oKl trail alonji; the crest of Pine Rid^e, in view some miles to the south, and that 1 miizht be able to find a way up to the crest of this rid^e. though no one seemed to know where a trail went up or \\ as \\ illinii; to venture an opinion as to whether a motor car \\ould be able to attain the summit up the apparently steep side slopes. However, to sit still was not on the program, so we started for the hills with eyes anxiously scanninjr them from afar in an effort to discover what might prove a path or trail of some kind. We drove across country along sheep trails and across them till w^e came to the first foothills without having discovered any sign of a trail up the slopes. Wc did find, how- e\er, that the ridge was deeply incised by small canyons or gashes and after having carefully in- spected several of these on foot, I thought I saw the possibility of reaching the top of the ridge by zig- zagging up the rather sharply inclined side of one of these cauNons. In making our way up through the gravelly dry bed of the cannon we soon found that we could not get out of this bed to gain the 41 42 FACULTY OF ORIENTATION firmer ground of the side hill, in fact we were soon so firmly imbedded in the loose gravel that we could move neither forward or backwards, and realized that it would be the arduous work of many hours to extricate the car from its position. Before entering the canyon or "draw" as it is called in Montana, I had noticed the white canvas of a sheep-wagon some two or three miles distant on the rolling foothills. To enlighten the unin- itiated a sheep-wagon is the home-on-wheels of a sheep herder. This home is moved from one loca- tion to another about every two weeks to provide new grazing grounds for his flock of about two thousand sheep which he has in charge for the owner, who may own from ten to sixty of these sheep-wagons and who brings a team of horses for moving them from one location to another when required. In order to avoid the arduous work of getting the This situation, encountered in Montana, necessitated the taking apart and reconstructing the bridge. Laborious and sloiv but counted as all in the day's ivork FACULTY OF ORIENTATION 43 car out I took our driver Heinle out to the edge of the draw and pointed out to him the location of the sheep-wagon and asked him to go over there to see if he could procure the use of a team, caution- ing him to note well the location of the canyon in order to find his way back to our car. Now Heinie had the faculty of losing his way more prominently developed than anyone I ever met, in fact his bump of orientation was so dwarfed that he would lose his way back to the hotel of a city if the garage were around the corner and thus out of sight of it. Hence my cautioning him not to miss the particular canyon in which our car was when he returned from the sheep-wagon with or without the horses, espe- cially in view of the fact that the car was down in a depression and could not be seen unless one came within a couple of hundred feet of it. Heinie started out assuring me he would be back in a jiffy and we could hear his merry whistle grow fainter as he drew away into the distance. I started to make a fire to prepare a bit to eat as friend wife suggested we should have everything ready against Heinie's return so as to be prepared to move promptly. This was about two o'clock in the aft- ernoon. In the course of an hour or a little more I went out of the draw to look for Heinie, but he was nowhere in sight. We waited all the long aft- ernoon and still no Heinie. We were beginning to get considerably worried about the boy, particularly when I saw through the field glasses that the sheep- herder was preparing his supper and that he was alone at his camp. I fired a couple of shots to attract Heinie's attention in case he was lost and roaming over the side of the ridge. As no answer- 44 FACULTY OF ORIENTATION ing cry resulted we finally prepared our camp for the night and had a good fire burning, thinking that the glare of the flames might guide the boy back. Next morning at an anxious and hasty breakfast Heinie was still missing, and the worst was that I did not think it well to leave my wife alone in camp in order to go and hunt for the boy, as one of the Indian sheep-herders might pay our camp a visit. All the morning I scanned the surrounding country with the field glasses and finally about two o'clock, twenty-four hours after his leaving the car, I spied him afar off coming towards the ridge accompanied by a man driving a team of horses. Much relieved I hurried down to the car and reported to my wife that Heinie was in sight and to help get something ready for him to eat in case he was hungry. The meal about ready, I again went up on the slight ele- vation from where I had seen the party approaching, but Heinie and his companion had disappeared and were nowhere in sight nor, in spite of shots fired, shouts and waving of red blankets, could we dis- cover any further sign of them for the rest of the entire day. Another anxious night was spent in camp and Heinie was still missing the next noon. However, two hours later he again appeared in the focus of the field glasses still accompanied by his friend with the horses, and this time I took no chances of loosing him again, but ran out to meet them about a mile from the car. Poor Heinie had had a hard time of it. When he reached the sheep-wagon he found it deserted, but spied another one a mile or so beyond, and here he found willing folks with a team who was glad to FACULTY OF ORIENTATION 45 be of help. But alas, when Heinle undertook to act as guide back to the car he stared in blank amaze- ment at the ridge. Every canyon and gash looked alike to him and there were literally hundreds of them. So they spent forty-eight hours hunting for the right one, with poor Heinie worried sick. He was surely a happy boy to get to the wheel of his beloved car again. The team yanked us out of our troubles in no time, and after several attempts in various localities we finally attained the summit of the ridge. That was indeed some ride along the hog-back crest of Pine Ridge, crossing saddles and rifts, and when, by evening, we finally succeeded in finding a way down on the other side of the ridge we were a mighty tired lot in camp that night. Next day we made Miles City via Harder and found that they were organizing searching parties to go and look for us as our departure from Custer three days before had been promptly chronicled in the city papers and our arrival that first night had been expected. It was thought that we had met with an accident in the hills or that we might have been murdered by renegades. Yuma Border BEFORE the construction of the highway bridge at Yuma it was nothing unusual for motorists, who reached the ferry on the California side after six o'clock P. M., to have to spend the night in their cars as the ferryman could not be hired, threatened or otherwise persuaded to break his rule not to work after hours, no matter what the hardships to the tourists, who were com- pelled to sit there in the dark, generally supperless, too, and watch the blinking arc lights of the city of Yuma just across the river, and not a wide river at that. Having had this experience on two separate occa- sions, I put the matter up to the city authorities and the movement for the building of a highway bridge connecting the convenient bluf¥s just above the ferry, already discussed as a possibility of the future, took on added impetus. Concrete action followed. By the co-operation of the Federal government with the States of Arizona and California, the bridge was built — and the ferryman lost his job as he fully deserved. 46 A Mormon Dance ON ONE of my trips from Zuni to Inscrip- tion Rock our party spent the night at the small Mormon settlement of Ramah and that evening were invited to attend a dance at the place which served as schoolhouse, house of worship and public meeting house generally. When a fair- sized crowd had assembled, the fiddler tuned up and the merry-makings ready to start, the elder, or what- ever he is called in the Mormon church, arose and asked everybody to join in prayer. Like many a deacon of other faiths he proceeded to give the Lord a lot of information, which he seemed to think the Supreme Power should know about and finally asked that evil thoughts be kept from the dancers. Some of the young men in my party, who had been introduced generally among the young ladies, had evidently missed an introduction to two or three of them and when they asked for a dance were promptly turned down by these because they were not properly introduced. A strict observance of the conventions were demanded even in this isolated and remote region. The festive occasion was closed with another long prayer. 47 A Mexican Wedding ENTERING on one occasion an all-Mexican village in Arizona we were met by a wed- ding procession. Preceded by two musicians, one playing a guitar and one a violin, the white- dressed bride, led by the hand of the groom, came towards us with measured and stately strides. Fol- lowing were the relatives of the happy pair, all with beaming faces and chatting animatedly. As we drove to one side to make room for the procession the groom halted its march, came over to our car and handed me a written invitation to attend a dance with refreshments that evening at the house of the bride's father. Presumably this invitation was extended to all strangers encounted during the progress of the procession. Surely a con- vincing proof of the great hospitality of these unlet- tered simpleminded folk, this extending a friendly hand of welcome to whoever enter their gates. A 'Mexican ii-edding at Spring er-rille, Ariz. Yes, right here in the United States, not in a remote corner of some foreign country 4S The Yuma Mummy As A proof of the dryness of the desert air 1 will relate an experience 1 encountered in ^ Yuma, even though the joke, somewhat ghastly, was on myself. One of the chief boosters for creating motor tourist traffic to and through tlie town was the city undertaker. The president of the local automobile club escorted me over to the undertaking establish- ment to introduce me, and finding no one in attend- ance in the office left me there, with an apology, to go in search of the proprietor. I sat down in a chair, and after idly glancing through a magazine which told all about coffins and shrouds, 1 looked up and my eyes saw reflected in a mirror on the opposite wall, a man standing in the corner of the room behind my chair. And if a face could ever portray the definition of a diabolical grin this man's certainly did. To say that I was startled is putting it mildly. I am afraid I arose from that chair with a bound, surely with an alacrity frowned upon in the best social circles where deliberateness is a dis- tinguishing mark. Facing the man with the grin I was astounded to note that it was a grin that refused to come off, it was there for keeps. Upon closer inspection this ghastly apparition proved to be a mummified human with long hair streaming down alongside his sunken face, and gleaming white teeth glistening brightly. Heavy eyebrows and some of the tousled hair hid its eye- sockets. It was fully dressed and standing almost straight in the corner of the room, leaning only 49 50 THE YUMA MUMMY slightly against one wall. Xo wonder I was startled. Upon the arrival of the undertaker I was told this body had stood there in the corner of the room for more than a year, and that it was found out on the desert. The dry air prevented decay and merely turned the deceased into a mummy. No one seemed to know anything of the man who met this luckless fate. It was many a day before I forgot this experience. On tup uj the IV kite muunUiins plateau in Arizona. Some of these small brooks, ivhile shalloiv, has bottoms like glue. Obtaining traction is most dijficult Noi or tons IN 1 ^M 1 thr CiliiKliMi Toiii was run troni Ni'w \ iM k \o j .u-ksiMi\ i!K- ill the month o\ OcXoWx. As 1 w .IS to start on a \o\\\c in\ rsti^atioii trip to i.\ilitoiina iumt thr hoi^iinnnL:, ot C)etobtM-. 1 ihil \\w pathliiuliiii: tor the CiliiKhMi Tour in the hitter part oi Auv^ust. arri\ inii. in laeksoiuiUe thi" hrst week in September. C^wiiii: to pressure oi time 1 tra\elh\l tairh tast tor a strietl\ pathlinilini: tour, especial 1\ when eon- siderint: the tact that careful stiip maps weie m ule The road ix'i^vt't'n ///<• capital of the Nation and the capital of the Confederacy ivas certainly a toiKjh prop- osition for a motor ctir to netjotiate up to IQIQ ivhen con- ditions licre sonteivhat impro^wd 51 52 NOTORIOUS of the route as we went along, besides notes of hotel accommodations for the big crowd to follow on the Glidden Tour. This did not give us much time for the many various entertainments usually attendant upon a tour of this kind, especially where cities on two parallel possible routes were bitterly and jeal- ously contending for the honor of being chosen as a noon or night stop for the big tour. Many unique arguments were often brought forth in such cases. I think that pathfinding as a whole, considering the delicate task of choosing only one, and that the best one, of several competitive optional routes without causing hard feelings or worse, is the best possible training for a man qualifying for the diplomatic service. However, I could not altogether avoid entertain- ments which were staged to show me honor or to influence my judgment in the choice of routes as Only a fezv years ago Florida "roads" ivere something long to he remembered by those ivho traveled over (or through) them NOTORIOUS 53 Of course nobody expected to find real roads through Florida sivamps ivhen ive ivent pathfinding and it may be truthfully said that ive ivere not disappointed in our expectations the case might be. These occasions were usually attended by more or less speech-making — usually more. I was frequently presented to the assemblage in terms most extravagant as the greatest pathfinder since Daniel Boone and General Fremont. At one place I was called the "Daniel Boone of the Gaso- line Age," at another "John the Baptist of the Good Roads Gospel," or "The Great Pathfinder of the Good Roads Era," and similar flattering phrases. But it remained for the mayor of one of the smaller Georgia towns to cap the climax. In the center of the public square was the usual band stand, and when our car arrived with all its occupants, grimy from a combination of dust and perspiration. I was escorted up the steps of the stand, around which the majority of the citizens of the town were 54 NOTORIOUS assembled. After the ma>or had made SDiiie rather lengthy and not altogether apropos remarks to the people he told them that they should feel especially honored that auspicious day in ha\ ing among them such a man as myself. Beckoning me to come for- ward he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, heard all oxer the square: "Allow me to present to you. m\ fellow citizens, the most notorious tourist of tlie age." Just that. Of course the laugh was on me. If I had not perfected my plans for another trans- continental trip it would have been my province to pilot the Glidden Tour o\er this route. As it was, my place was taken by one of my co-workers, an old and dear friend. Near the town where the mayor referred to me as the ni)torious, when he meant the notable tourist, the pilot car. running along at high speed, was ditched and the man who took my place as pilot was killed. The Padre* s Prophesy W 1 1 ION on an inspection tour over tin- Pacific Hig;lnvay from Seattle to San Die^o we eventually approached Southern Cali- fornia, it was late in the year and the Southland beckoned us with promise of sunshine and <^()Oi\ roads. Having entered upon Kl Camino Real, the old Kings Highway, wdiich in early days was only a trail connecting the twenty-two Franciscan Missions of California and which now constitutes a link in the Pacific Highway, it was of course inevitable that we decided to pay a \ isit to all the old missions, most of them now merely ruins, along the way. It was also of course inevitable that the camera w^as used freely to make photographs of the venerable structures as a means to refresh our memories of these visits in later years. Having had the most pleasant experiences all along the line and securing some splendid snap- shots, we eventually arrived at the Santa Ynez mis- sion near Los Olivos. A few' years previously this mission had lost its imposing tower, which had tumbled down in a storm, owning to erosion of its material of construction and general old age, so that the mission bell had been mounted on an unsightly scaffolding in the open place fronting the chapel entrance. I proceeded at once to get busy with the camera and, having taken all the photographs which I desired, noticed a small placnrd fastened on the front of the chapel door. Upon approaching to read the placard 1 found to my consternation that it w'as a polite request to 55 56 THE PADRE^S PROPHESY visitors not to make photographs of the mission be- fore first procuring the permission of the padre. I felt much mortified in having, though uninten- tionally, ignored the inhibition, especially as I noticed that the padre was watching our behavior from the porch of the mission house, attached to the chapel building. In order to make my excuses and set myself right with the padre, I stepped up to him and tendered apologies for my apparent dis- regard of his printed request. With a gracious smile he said it would be all right as he never knew a photograph which had been taken, without first securing the requested permission, to turn out any- thing but a failure. I assured him, however, that I knew my camera and also knew that my film was fresh stock, so I had no fear of the results, but would be happy to be allowed the privilege of making a contribution to the church box in partial atonement for my over- sight. While thanking me for this, he thought that the photographs nevertheless would turn out bad. After a few moments pleasant chat we parted the very best of friends. When in the course of a few days the trip was finished, and I had secured photographs of every one of the missions on the route, the films were developed. Every exposure made was excellent — except those made at Santa Ynez. The film was good, fresh stock, because others on the same roll came out fine. Thus the padre's prophesy came true, as the Santa Ynez photographs were so fogged that it was barely possible to recognize the objects intended to be depicted. Pesky Pests TO travelers beyond the fringe of civilization it is well known that the further north one reaches the bigger and more vicious the mos- quitoes are and, it seems, also more plentiful. While the damp regions of the tropic and sub-tropic countries of course have their share of the pests it is said that the mosquitoes of Alaska and the swampy wooded regions of Canada surpass the warmer cli- mates in the number, the insistent rapaciousness and venom of these insects which near the dusk of the evening sweep the country in literally dense clouds inflicting suffering and often death on animals and such human beings as are not prepared with veils, screens and special clothing to resist and render futile their onslaughts. However, the sloughs and coulees of our northern prairie states, such as Minnesota, the Dakotas and Montana, also furnish excellent breeding places for a species of mosquito which I believe in genuine devilishness and ingenuity, undiluted poison and militant generalship prove worthy matches to their Canadian and Alaskan cousins and to compare with which, the well-known and much condemned New Jersey variety are as tame household pets. While traversing the North Dakota prairies in search of the most likely location for a transconti- nental motor route into the northwest on one occa- sion we were approaching Bismarck, the state capi- tal. We w^ere still some twenty miles east of the city and were pushing on to reach a good dinner before dark when our trail lead us across a sort of 57 58 PESKY PESTS dike over several reed-grown swamps or sloughs, AVhen about half way across this dike, which was probably a quarter of a mile long, our car skidded off to one side and barely escaped plunging into the ooze of the swamp. As it was we were "stuck." While we were busily endeavoring to get the car back on to the crown of the dike it seemed to me that the sun sud- denly went down and the dusk of evening at once settled on the surrounding country. Looking up from the manipulation of the jack handle I saw a dense black cloud arise out of the slough and slowly, as though wafted by a breeze, draw nearer to us. I did not realize the nature of the thing till untold millions of mosquitoes buzzed around us and dived for an unprotected spot on our arms, heads, faces and necks. As it was absolutely essential to continue with the work of getting the car going we simply had to scrape the pests off by the handful whenever we had a hand free that could be spared for the pur- pose. When there was no more room for lodge- ment on the exposed parts of our bodies the insects would light on our clothing and proceed to bore until they struck blood. W^hen after some twenty minutes tussle we finally succeeded in getting the car under way again the swarm bloodthirstily pursued us for a while, but finally gave up the chase. By this time the poi- son injected into our S3'stems was beginning to have serious effects. We suffered cruelly and scratched ourselves until the blood flowed. On approaching the city I, who seemed to suffer the least, possibly on account of my being a tobacco smoker, had to PESKY PESTS 59 take the wheel from the driver, whose face had become so swollen from the poison that his eyes were fast becoming closed by their puffed condition. They were entirely closed in fact when we drew up in front of the hotel. We were compelled to stay in the town for two days under medical care before we had sufficiently eradicated the poison from our systems to be able to proceed. We surely acquired a wholesome respect for the efficiency of Mr. Mosquito and in the future were properly supplied with veils and heavy gloves as at least a partial protection. // ivas quite somr task io jerry the ('.(inaduin River in Oklahoma. In order to reach the ferry it ivas necessary to cover three-fourths of the riverbed's ividth on your oivn ivheels across sandbars and shalloiv ii'ater Good Fellows WHILE surveying the Meridian Road from Laredo on the Rio Grande, in Texas, to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, which high- way practically divides the United States in two equal parts, some of the Texans accompanied me in two cars in order to boost for the improvement of the route and to extend a hearty welcome for a winter visit into the Sunny South to the dwellers of the more northerly states through which wc passed. Of course our cavalcade was met by delegations of enthusiasts which came to extend to us the hos- pitality of whatever community we were approach- ing along the entire route. These hearty welcomes compensated in a large measure for the many trying experiences which we had with rough trails, lack of culverts, primitive ferries over considerable rivers, furnace-like hot winds from parching corn and wheat fields, dust and perspiration. However, it must be admitted it sometimes added seriously to our discomfort to travel for several miles through a dusty country into a town when we were sand- wiched between many escorting cars in front and rear, thus compelling us to partake of a dust diet, blow north or blow south. It has been my good fortune during my many years of pathfinding and investigation of routes throughout the United States to meet many men in public life. Among these I have had fifty-two gov- erners of various states ride in my car during periods extending from only an hour or so up to a two 60 GOOD FELLOWS 61 When it comes to boosting/ for Good Roads the West Texas communities easily take first prize. Here is a little bunch of boosters come out to meet the pathfinder and escort him into their toivn weeks good-road's campaign, and with few excep- tions I have found these state executives the best of fellows, clean-minded good sports, as ready to lend a hand at the shovel to get us out of a bad hole in the road as to get up on the tonneau seat and make a speech, and apparently as contented to roll up in a blanket beside the campfire after a supper of camp "vittles" as to retire to a sumptous suite of hotel rooms after an elaborate banquet. On this trip over the Meridian Road we arrived at a state line somewhere near halfway of the route and were met by the governor of the state, accompanied by a large welcoming delegation in a long string of automobiles. At the first town we came to, they had prepared quite a feast for us in the way of a barbecue lunch, where all the good things of the season was served in great plentitude 62 GOOD FELLOWS to everyone present. The governor of course was the object of special solicitude of a committee which had been appointed to particularly look after his comfort. I was seated alongside the governor and was much amused at the worry displayed by this coinmitttee when the governor let all the good things like roast pig, roast turkey and attendant fix- ings pass by without helping himself. Finally an immense platter heaped high with steaming golden roasted ears of corn appeared and the governor took six of these and piled them on his plate, then calmly proceeded to eat with apparent relish. Everybody watched him with great interest as he busied himself with this repast, which ordinarily would suffice for three men, and when in silence and without interruption he liad eaten the corn off the A narroiv escape from sliding doivn the side of a moun- tain. The Governor of the State of Colorado, at the right front ivheel, is assisting the pathfinder to keep the car from going over. The ivindlass, a homemade con- trivance, carried in the car, saved the day GOOD FELLOWS 63 six cobs he said that but for modesty's sake he felt almost like emulating the Irishman, who after eat- ing the corn off a cob passed it to the waiter with the request that the chef "put some more beans on this stick," to which remark one of those sitting near enough to hear it suggested that evidently the com- mittee had brought the governor to the wrong place, they should have brought him to the livery stable and not to the barbecue. This caused much merri- ment and the governor acknowledged the laugh was on him and confessed to an inordinate fondness for roasted corn, a fondness which he only dared indulge to the full when Mrs. Governor was not present to look after his diet. \.^;v!^^»^^'V< It is serious business to stop the momentum of the ear in the sucking quicksand beds of many Neiv Mexico streams. This picture ivas taken in the Rio Puerco before the construction of a liighiuay bridge over the treacherous river Saladito WHILE we were taking the first truck across New^ Mexico over what was later called ''The Trail to Sunset" but is now part of the National Old Trails road, we arrived one even- ing at a long low one-story building, lonesomely located on the adobe plain between the Datil Moun- tains and Rito Quemado in the Western part of Socorro county. As we had had a battle with mud on the plains all day, the crew w^as dog tired and not in a mood for erecting tents and doing the work attendant upon preparing camp for the night, cook- ing food, washing dishes, making beds, etc. For this reason the sight of this lonesome habitation was very welcome. We found that the house was not the dw^elling of a family but a sort of Mexican apartment house, and that its name was Saladito, because it was located near a small salty spring. Six families occu- pied the structure. Their respective apartments, which consisted of two rooms each, were not inter- communicating which necessitated going outside in order to enter the apartment of one of the neigh- bors. I learned that the house, which by the way was not at all unusual in some remote parts of New Mexico, was built in this manner in order to provide better protection against possible danger of Indian attacks, which in not so far distant days was ever to be reckoned with and even today was used as a dwelling place by so many families be- cause the nearness of fellow human beings was a great comfort in such a remote region, especially 64 SALADITO 65 M^ ik:-: f'^ This desperate effort to spurt across a stream ivith quick- sand bottom ivas only partially successful as shoivn by the illustration beloiu as the men were away during the day attending their flocks of Angora goats from which they made a living. We were fortunate enough to induce one of the housewives, who was a childless widow, to take us in and allow us the use of one of her two rooms and also to cook our meals for us, using our pro- visions in their preparation, as none of us had suc- ceeded in acquiring the taste for Mexican cooking, usually strongly seasoned with red pepper. While our supper was being cooked 1 made a visit down along the line of the other apartments and found they contained thirty persons all told, none of whom could speak or understand a word of English. As 1 had a nodding acquaintance with Spanish, I was able to put us on a friendly basis with the inhabi- tants and found to my surprise that we occupied a veritable Noah's Ark. That historic menagerie 66 SALADITO scarcely contained more species of animals than Saladlto. Aside from the thirty human beings, of whom the larger number were children of varying ages, I was able to enumerate two burros, eight dogs, five cats, sixteen chickens, nine pigs, one Angora ram and seven Angora kids, all occupying the rooms In common and seemingly getting along amicably. During the night it rained, and as New Mexico adobe Is some problem to negotiate when wet, even with a light car, let alone a seven-ton truck heavily loaded, I decided it was good policy to stay where we were until the country dried up, and thus we spent two days at Saladlto. We had not a dull moment. The people, their domestic life, their homes and points of view on ordinary everyday affairs, were as interesting to us as we were to them. Besides, w^e had a well-earned rest, which Motorists ivlio ha'ue had experience nvith Neiv Mexico ivet abode soil, all agree that it is the stickiest stuff on earth SALADITO 67 put our crew in better trim to tackle the hardships ahead. As I knew the country from having trav- ersed it the year before, 1 realized that these hard- ships were greater than I dared divulge to the members of the crew, knowing that they would attack difficulties, that were not anticipated, with greater cheerfulness than those about which they had heard and thus allowed their imagination to magnify. Of course there were no roads, merely trails often too narrow for vehicular traffic. ? ATNFINOCR ^ AME11CAN AUTOMOMil ASSOff ATIOK -^r. a OFFICE OP r' ^ • '-' " u)s wrw rm* to St * *n fnmtisto r y Price Ciinyon I THINK I may justly claim the amception ot the Midhmd Trail, now called the Roosevelt National Highway, as 1 had carefully studied out its alignment as well as given it a n;mie two \ears before 1 undertook to trace it on the ground. With the co-o[>eration of the Denver Chamber of Commerce we cn^ssed the Rix^ky Mountains over Berthoud Pass. 11,300 feet high. This p;iss had never been crossed by an automobile before. Now it is done every day when free from snow. Eventu- ally we arrived at Grand Junction, near the Colo- rado-Ut:ili line, and here 1 found a addition which g;ive fixid for serious thouglit. The trip from Grand Junction, a prosperous city in the heart of a wonderful fruit belt, to Salt Lake City, three hundred miles distant, had been at- tempted on several occasions by motorists but had never been accvnnplished. the rough countr>- and absence of culverts or bridges across washes and ravines amipelling the shipment of the car for a aMisiderable distance in every case. Upon learning this and realizing that 1 should probably also fail to reach the objective, 1 arr;mged for a meeting of the chamber of commerce. At this meeting I ex- plained the imjx^rtance to the city of being located on a transcontinental trunk highway and especially on one with so mimy scenic attractions as the Mid- land Trail. 1 then called for volunteers to acaim- p;my me to Salt Lake City in their car, suggesting that three or four husky fellows ixvupy each car to enable us to surmount all obstacles by slieer ph\^ical 68 I'RK 1 «.\\NM)\' (/) Our (tir tens t/ir f.',.'.: '.,: .;,..>.v ll,;i'..::.J l\i.y.^ .^: . .• /.. Rocky Mounidiris, lifst of Dt'n^wr. T/ir tUvation is II3O0 jcft tin J the summit of the pass comes I'cry near hcitit) the top of the ivorlJ, heituj probably the loftiest trunk line motor route in the uni'Z'crse strciiiitli, ;iiul thus \c:\vn the real C(Mulitii)ii ot the propciscd \ouXc aiul anati^e tor means to eliminate its drawbacks. In a tew moments crews tor ten cars \ ohinteereil. anil this speaks vohunes tor the enterprise and in- trepidity of these red-hhioded folks of the West. After a day's dela\ to i:et ready we started out. It was ten da\s befi>re a national election and all these men expected to be back in their home city to vote for President. After surmoiintini:; almost inconceivable difficulties, at times carrying: cars bodih across deep ra\ ines or acrt>ss flooded rivers and battling with sticky adobe mud caused by two days' rain, besides havinii; serious breakdowns of almost every one of the eleven cars, we finally reached the town of Price. 70 PRICE CANYON A few miles beyond this place lies Price Canyon, through which a road once passed, but now the D. & R. G. Railroad occupied the former bed of the road, and, as no other trail had been constructed through the canyon over the sixteen miles from Helper to Colton, it was necessary for the cars to travel around through an exceedingly rough coun- try nearly sixty miles to reach from one of these stations to the other. As I w^anted the route located through Price Canyon, arrangements were made to furnish me with a guide for hiking through while the cars made the long trip around. This guide was a sorry specimen of humanity who, as a hanger-on at the town saloons, had through dissipation become so weakened that by the time we had gone some nine or ten miles of the sixteen, was about played out from the exertions necessary to get over the rough sides of the steep A sudden cloudburst, occurring frequently miles aiuay, ivill make raging torrents of ordinarily dry "'washes" in Utah PRICE CANYON 71 canyon. Here he sat down on a boulder and en- treated me to leave him to his fate, as he had all his days been a worthless good-for-nothing and de- served no better end, and, anyway, did not care but would just as soon pass in his checks now as later. In other words, he had not only lost his stamina but his courage, and was willing to give up. After considerable persuasion and coaxing he, however, consented to make further efforts, and, with a little assistance now and then, managed to make, in a slow and stumbling way, another few miles. Unfortunately we had here a rather grue- some experience. We saw a decomposed body hang- ing from a tree, evidently of some unfortunate who in despair had committed suicide. This entirely unnerved my companion, and shortly beyond the place where we had passed the hanging man, sway- ing back and forth in the wind, he refused entirely to make any further efforts, and no coaxing nor even threats had any effect on him. He simply sat down on the ground and refused to rise or pull himself together. Of course I could not leave the poor wretch there, as it was turning dark and he was too poorly clad to stand the cold of the night in his alcohol- soaked condition. There was nothing else to do but try to carry or drag him along, and this I under- took to do. While he was a man of slight physique, he began to weigh very heavily after we had pro- ceeded a short distance in this manner, especially as I also am not of very heavy frame, and I was compelled to make frequent stops for rest. The last mile into Colton I was no longer able to carry 72 PRICK CANYON him, but dragged him along, a few feet at a time. between stops for breath. ^^^len we finally reached the steps of the little frame building which constituted the hotel. 1 was almost as near in as my burden, but the sight of the cars parked around the building cheered me up wonderfully. 1 found my company of scouts dis- cussing plans to enter the canyon on a search for us as I opened the door and entered the hotel office. Unfortunately the little town was dry. I say un- fortunately, because in this case the specific needed for my guide was a generous dose of his accustomed stimulant more than any other remedy. After searching the town over we finally unearthed a small bottle of whiskey, and when a tumblerful of the raw poison was forced down his throat he began to give signs of life. In an hour's time he seemed as good as new and with a more rosy view on life — Getting across East fin VuiJ: ;....> /. ■ ^lay oiving to many narrozi: but steep zvas/ies. The s/ioi'el brigade ivas gen- erally kept busy PRICE CANYON 73 in fact, was not at all disposed toward quitting this mundane sphere just then nor in the near future. When our party eventually reached Salt Lake City we had spent twelve days covering the three hundred miles from Grand Junction, and it was with genuine regret that I parted with those fine fellows, ''the boys of 1912." 1 had the satisfaction within a year to pilot my car over a new highway through Price Canyon, located on the route over which 1 had made the preliminary investigation, and on that trip I trav- eled from Grand Junction to Salt Lake City in two days, an evidence of the work which had been done during the year to eliminate the worst places on this entire route. ■%^'',M**"*',-^- ^ Fording this river in Utah ivas found a comparatively easy task, Giving to a firm, gravelly bottom Pan, My Pal PAN is a blue-blooded aristocrat with a family tree as old and a pedigree as unblemished as the proudest and highest in the "tight little island" where Burke's peerage is the main guide to "Who is Who." His ancestors had carried their blue ribbons and bow knots as proudly as any duke his crown and ermine cloak. Besides, no ermine cloak could be more white and flawless than the white coat which Pan wears. Unlike many a scion of nobility, Pan is true as steel and the best friend a man could ever have, his unselfishness and devo- tion is something beautiful and inspiring and his faithfulness beyond doubt. Pan is a "regular fellow," smart, active and ever alert. Pan is a wire-haired fox terrier from the Sabine Kennels, down in Texas. His sire was transplanted to the banks of the Sabine from England, after having won pre-eminent honors at the most impor- tant bench shows, but now when he wistfully looks towards the East with homesick longings he only sees the Louisiana shore on the other side of the river. Pan is a twin ; his brother is called Peter, and the pair were named thus in honor of Maud Adams, who undoubtedly never knew of their ex- istence, and thus missed a real pleasure. When I first saw Pan he was romping around in a grass-carpeted, wire-netted enclosure with nearly two hundred playfellows, and a wonderfully bright and lively picture they made. It was my task that morning to choose from among this kaleido- scopic jumble of jumping, scampering young dog- 74 'AN, MY PAL 75 Hesh an individual which appealed to me the strongest as most likely to become a boon com- panion and real comrade on the road. A kindly fairy guided my judgment and Pan became our pal on many a transcontinental motor hike. He shares with us the good and the bad, is patient and wise, always sleeps with one eye open and an ear ever cocked, is an apt scholar, proud of what he has learned, and never did anything deserving chastise- ment but once — and then he escaped it. Pan, our pal, ivho "knoivs America," from actual observa- tion, better than the greater majority of its people The first day on the road Pan suffered intensely from sea-sickness, or rather car-sickness, and refused to be comforted and coddled. In all his six months of existence he had had no such experience, and he looked at us reproachfully and miserably with his pleading eyes. However, in a couple of days he began to take interest in his fellow passenger and to notice his swiftly changing surroundings. In a 76 PAN, MY PAL week he acted like a seasoned globe trotter, devel- oped an enormous appetite and soon began, as we pulled up at a hotel entrance for a night stop, to look at the hostelry with a speculative eye, trying to figure out in advance if any objection would be offered to his sharing our room with us. We be- came so fond of the cute little runt that when some landlord, after reasonable pleadings, remained ada- mant in his objections to dogs, we would seek some other hotel or even go to some other town rather than leave our tiny friend alone in the garage for the night. When Pan was a little over a year old he had traveled far and wide and became as car wise as an insurance adjuster. At this time we again hap- pened to visit his native State. Somewhere near the edge of the Staked Plain, in the Panhandle, some good-roads enthusiasts presented our driver with a pair of young opossums, which he kept in the pocket of one of the front doors of the car, unknown to me. The little things were only some five inches long, exclusive of their prehensile tails, and were quite tame. Pan's continuous interest in that corner of the car aroused my curiosity and I soon, of course, discovered the cause. The black, bead-like eyes and pig-like snouts of the little pets did not appeal to our party, but as the driver prom- ised to ship them to his home when we reached Colorado, we raised no objection to carrying them that far. Not so Pan; he had to be continually restrained from making a raid on that door pocket. At Colorado Springs we were the guests of some friends, and here of course Pan had to make the best of his quarters in the stable. In the garage, PAN, MY PAL 77 next door to the stable, the opossums were kept in a box placed on a shelf. The next morning after our arrival the driver announced the disappearance of his pets. He had found the slats covering the box slightly displaced and the opossums gone. A rigid search of the premises failed to discover their whereabouts, but I noticed that Pan tried somewhat ostentatiously to look unconcerned — in fact, so much so that my suspicion was aroused. As we started to leave the stable, apparently satisfied that the 'possums were not there, I seemed to note a smug look of satisfaction on Pan's face and determined to return shortly. After a lapse of an hour I came back stealthily and, upon jerking the door suddenly open, found the little rascal play- ing with a 'possum tail as a kitten with a ball of twine. He knew that he had been caught red- handed and ran to a corner, whining for mercy. That was the time he deserved corporal punishment but didn't get it. It was not in my heart to give him anything stronger than a round scolding in appreciation of his cunning in hiding the remains of his victims from our view when we first inspected the stable. The 'possums had escaped from their box and, prowling around, had gone through a drain into the stable and here met their end. As I am writing this, Pan, now a staid world-wise dog, with the experience of four years of roaming over the highways of the country showing in his wise, kind eyes, sits at my feet and is probably wondering what I am writing about. I can wish my friends nothing better than the good fortune to acquire a pal like Pan. Close Connection BETWEEN Salt Lake City, Utah, and Ely, Nevada, the Lincoln Highway and the Midland Trail, now the Roosevelt Na- tional Highway, coincide for about three hundred miles. The country between these two cities is most bleak and forbidding, albeit that it has, like all desert regions, a certain fascination of its own. The Great Salt Lake Desert, formerly called the Great American Desert and the Sevier Desert, be- sides several desert mountain ranges between the two cities, made it a matter of great concern to locate the route not where the best but the least bad condition prevailed. In hunting for this least bad route I traversed all the possible options avail- able north and south of the lake, and am probably the only man who has covered them all. While the route as now located has been so far improved as not only to rob it of any possible danger but even make traveling over it a matter of merely covering ground and enjoying the opportunity to view this arid section without worry or apprehen- sion, it was entirely another matter to roam through this region in a motor car while searching for the line of least resistance for a highway, water being the constant anxiety of our party. On one of these trips we went south from Ely via Newhouse to Milford, Utah, and made this little town without serious hardships. From Mil- ford our route lay northeast across a corner of the Sevier Desert, and we learned that there was no water for about forty-five miles. As a strong wind 78 CLOSE CONNECTION 79 blew from the southwest, thus compelling us to travel with it, we were somewhat apprehensive in regard to having our motor overheat, and conse- quently loaded our car with extra water containers, so that on starting out we carried an extra supply of twelve gallons of water for our radiator, surely enough, as we thought, to cover all contingencies. My wife, the mechanic and I made up the party of three. We had not gone far from Milford, traveling in a cloud of our own dust carried on the breeze at about the same speed as our own, when our motor ran hot. With only slight concern we stopped and filled the radiator. After a while we had to stop and repeat this performance every little while, and eventually, some thirty miles out, our extra water supply ran so low that I realized we would only have enough for possibly another five miles, and that would be ten miles short of the place where we had been told we would find water. In fact, it might be further than ten miles, as the estimate of distances in those days, when motor cars were rare, often was a matter of mere guesswork. Before we had covered even the five miles we were entirely out of water and the engine was boil- ing hot. We were compelled to stop. From a nearby knoll I surveyed the entire surrounding country. There was nothing in sight but sandy wastes with black lava hills jutting out here and there. Things looked indeed gloomy, as being stalled in that arid country, waterless, was really more than serious. My wife, who from long experience in roughing it never loses heart, then hit upon a bright idea. In 80 CLOSE CONNECTION a box in the tonneau we had six bottles of carefully packed and much treasured claret of a choice vint- age, made and presented to us by a friend in Cali- fornia who owned a fine vineyard. Friend wife generously offered to sacrifice the wine and accord- ingly the box was opened and the contents of the bottles poured into the radiator, which was hardly more thirsty than ourselves. Nevertheless, we re- frained from sharing even a tiny drop with our motor, which took it all and could have used more when the last bottle was emptied. With new heart we cranked up and proceeded, the motor doing very well on its unaccustomed diet. However, in a couple of miles we were again com- pelled to stop from the same old cause, and we were now without further resources. About a hundred yards ahead was a slight elevation, and in order to take another look around — which, however, I felt in my heart would be entirely useless, I climbed up the slight grade, and to my utter astonishment there appeared less than another hundred feet away — a pool of water. I rubbed my eyes and looked again, to make sure it was not one of those cruel desert mirages. But no, there it was. True, it was murky and dark green, but it was water, really wet water. It seemed too good to be believed all at once. The liquid was unfit to drink, and though we suffered keenly from thirst we were compelled to confine ourselves to filling radiator and the extra contain- ers. Some twelve miles further and we were out of the desert and among cedar-grown hills, and here we found the ranch house of a Mormon, where a bubbling spring of cool water made us all forget CLOSE CONNECTION 81 the past danger of the day. The ranchman, about whose house some dozen children of very nearly the same age were playing and staring at us with a curiosity indicating the rarity of visits from people of the outside, assured us that he had never known water to remain for any length of time in any of the many depressions of the lava-strewn region where we found it, and assured us there had been no rain in the region for months. Yet we found it. Deadly Figures NEXT to being asked what tires I use and can recommend, the question probably most often put to me is how many miles I have traveled in my many years of pathfinding. My answTr is invariably that I do not know, though I have most likely traveled more different (note the different) miles on rubber tires thpn any man in the world. This I believe to be true. When anyone makes an offhand statement that he has traveled two or three or four or even five hundred thousand miles, he should not be taken too seriously. Just apply the yardstick to these figures The "Pull the State out of the mud" campaign in Ohio and Michigan had ample justification and is being pushed ivith excellent effect 82 DEADLY FIGURES 83 and note how they dwindle. I noted in the press only recently that a comparatively young man had traveled about eight hundred thousand miles in fif- teen years and that he hoped to cover a round million, or a distance equal to forty times around the earth at the equator. Let us stop for a moment and analyze these figures. Eight hundred thousand miles in fifteen years makes fifty-three thousand three hundred and thirty-three miles a year, or over one hundred and forty-one miles a day for every day in the year — Sunday, holiday and weekday. If a day should be missed it would be necessary to double up the next day or to cover over two hundred and eighty-two miles. To do this summer and winter, rain or shine, mud or snow, for fifteen consecutive years is, of course, preposterous. That anyone has covered one-half that distance in that time is not impossible, but hardly within the range of probability. I confine myself to the safe statement that I have made more motor trips across the United States, East and West, North and South, than any other man, and that these trips were mostly over different routes. The Black River Crossing ON THE "Trail-to-Sunset" — later called the Apache Trail because it leads through the Apache Indian Reservation and connects Springerville, Arizona, and the National Old Trails route with Phoenix via I'ort Apache, Globe and Roosevelt Dam — the Black River separates the White Mountains from the Natanes Range. When 1 arrived at Fort Apache, in the spring of 1911, with the first transcontinental truck and its crew, after spending eight days covering forty-two miles across the White Mountain plateau, we were all of us about ready for a rest. In discussing the trail across the Black River, some twenty miles south of the army post, with the commanding officer, I learned that the river was at flood stage and that three army wagons and a company of soldiers, re- turning from the Mexican border, had been in camp on the other side of the river for a week waiting for the water to subside in order to be able to ford across. As I had crossed at this place the previous fall and was acquainted with the lay of the land at the crossing and also because 1 felt that I knew what my crew could accomplish with the truck, I made the proposition to the commanding officer that if he would furnish me with a troop of cavalry, twenty strong, I would guarantee to get his army wagons across after having crossed with the truck. He readily accepted my proposition and next morning I learned that the troop had started out at daylight and would be at the crossing when we arrived. 84 THE BLACK RIVER CROSSING 85 The first transcontinental truck crossing the plateau of the ffhite mountains in the lands of the Apaches, Arizona, at an elevation of 9000 ft. The trail leads through a very rough and broken country, the former stronghold of the notorious chief Geronimo and his band of murderous Apaches, where plenty remote and secure hiding places abounded. Our progress over the twisting, uneven and often steep trail was naturally slow and it was the middle of the afternoon before we arrived at the river, where we found the cavalry encamped. The Black River is a swift mountain stream and only some seventy-five feet wide. Upon looking on the racing, leaping and dancing current I confess that I felt somewhat uncertain that we would be able to make our words good. However, the officer of the post like a good sportsman had called my bluff, though when made it was not intended as such, so there was nothing to do but make the attempt. The truck was a seven-ton affair, as big as a furniture van, and was heavily loaded, hence 86 THli BLACK RIVER CROSSING 1 scarcely feared that it would be swept off its feet — or rather wheels. But it was difficult to gauge the depth of the stream on account of the swift current, and besides I knew that several large boulders were in the river-bed, and these of course could not be seen for the same reason. One of the cavalrymen volunteered to cross with a thin clothesline, swimming his horse across. The animal was instantly swept of¥ its feet and landed on the opposite shore more than five hundred feet down stream. After coming up to a point opposite the truck the trooper attempted with help of the soldiers at the army wagons to pull a heavy rope with block and tackle arrangement across. The raging current, getting a good hold of the four strands of rope, threatened to pull the entire crew into the water before it was pulled half way across. The spray spouted many feet in the air when the current struck the rope. A pair of army mules were hitched to the thin line, which in addition was run around a nearby tree. This accomplished the end desired and the block and tackle was made fast to a big tree. Four mules were hitched on and slowly the big truck nosed its way into the water. Gradually, inch by inch, it crept across, luckily missing the boulders, though it partly climbed one of them and slid off. These were anxious moments. When the vehicle had reached midstream the top of the radiator was barely visible above the water. The magneto and carburetor had, of course, been removed. Upon nearing the far bank the ascent was quite steep and the water deepest. The mules pulled their best with every ounce of strength on the THE BLACK RlVJiR CROSSING 87 hames, the rope creaked and groaned and every man held his breath. When finally the truck stood on the other hank, high and dry, the crossing accom- plished successfully, there was a release of pent-up feelings and a lusty cheer issued from every throat. As for myself it was a moment of supreme satis- faction, this successfully having accomplished some- thing which had been supposed to be undoable. But the rub was that I was still on the wrong side of the river, as I had remained to take photo- graphs of the task in hand. There was nothing else to do but emulate the trooper who had swum his horse across. Bidding a hearty goodby to the com- pany and mounting one of the horses, I plunged in with a camera held high above my head in each hand. The well-trained horse seemed to know just what was expected of him and pluckily fought the The first transcontinental truck, stemming the sivift cur- rent of the Black Ri'ver in the Apache country of Arizona. The difficulties of the crossing ivere much aggravated by the presence of large boulders in the river bed 88 THE BLACK RIVER CROSSING grasping current, while I had quite a job to stay on with the water up to my waist at times and both arms high in the air. When the other bank was safely attained there remained yet the task of getting the army wagons across. This was accomplished by loading them heavily with boulders and reversing the operation used with the truck, while the soldiers swam the mules across. Just as night fell the work w^as done. We went into camp where the soldiers had been encamped so long and the campfire of the troops soon lighted up the opposite shore. By daybreak the bugle sounded and with shouts of godspeed we parted company in opposite directions. Today there is a bridge at this crossing, but al- most every spring flood of this turbulent stream causes serious damage to it and entails extensive repairs. At least two bridges have been swept away by the flood from this location. Just Fro^s Ar OiNE time, while traveling over what was later named the George Washington High- ^ way in South Dakota, I encountered a most curious phenomenon. I had heard that once in a hlue moon such incidents happened in various sec- tions of the prairie states, but had never before, nor have I since, experienced anything like it. As we motored along a natural prairie road an immense black cloud was racing fast towards us, portending one of those cloudbursts which so often visit the prairie country at any uncertain time dur- ing the hot summer months. On meeting the blast of cold wind which indicated that the downpour might start any moment, we hastened to get out the curtains and fasten them on the car. But as almost everyone who has had occasion to do a similar stunt in a jiffy will know, the right curtains got in the wrong place and vice versa, so that by the time we had them properly sorted and really were on the way to do the thing right, the storm struck us. We had to abandon the effort and hopped into the car to get under cover. Here we huddled, hold- ing the curtains before us as shields against the fierce slanting rain which literally fell in sheets while flashes of lightning played about us continuously. These sudden storms on the open prairie are no jokes, and as no one knows where lightning may strike we certainly spent an anxious fifteen minutes. Shortly the storm had passed over. Our cover had been insufficient and in spite of our attempts to protect ourselves we were wet as drowned rats. 89 90 JUST FROGS The whole inside of the car was also wet and full of hopping, wriggling little black things which gave us all a creepy feeling. They proved to be tiny frogs about the size of a man's thumbnail. In a few minutes the sun appeared and we saw the road ahead and the ground in all directions just black with little frogs, which jumped, lively and frisky, in all directions. There were millions upon millions of them. It was impossible to set a foot down without crushing dozens of the creatures. After putting on skid chains we proceeded slowly and for five miles saw frogs as far as the eye could see in all directions. Then all at once we were out of this area of animate things and it felt almost like reaching shore after a voyage through turbulent seas. For every revolution of the wheels our tires crushed hundreds of frogs and we must have killed millions of them before reaching what may be termed dry ground. The theory of local people who have seen similar phenomena is that these frogs are sucked up out of a swampy region by a waterspout and carried a great distance, possibly a hundred or more miles, before some atmospheric condition is encountered \^'hich causes the precipitation. It certainly was an eerie experience. Diamondbacks HAVING motored into so many remote regions, far from habitations, in all of our Western, Southwestern and Southern States, I have seen thousands of rattlesnakes of many different varieties, from the almost black swamp rattler of Florida to the small sidewinder of the Colorado desert, in California; from the green rattler of the Staked Plains to the pale, dusty specimen of western Kansas, and the vicious kind in the Rio Grande Valley of New Mexico; even the rock "varmint" of Nevada and the kind that the Hopi Indians — who seemingly are immune against their poison — carry in their mouths during the weird snake dances. But, in my opinion, the Texas diamondback rattlesnake, found in the mes- quite chaparral along the lower reaches of the Rio Grande Valley, takes first prize both for size and general cussed viciousness. At one time while I was traveling a few miles back from the Rio Grande, going from Eagle Pass to La Pryor, we were following a lonely trail through the chaparral when, on account of the sand and general heavy condition of the going, dusk over- took us while we were yet many miles from our destination for the night. It was an unusually mild evening, following the first really warm day of the early spring. We had seen no snakes at all during many days of travel in that country and assumed that they were still hibernating. As the day was waning we saw our first snake and thought nothing of it. Shortly we ran across 91 92 DIAISIONDBACKS another in the middle of the trail, and from then on for the next hour saw more rattlesnakes than we ever had in all our lifetime before. They all seemed to be in the trail, and we drove over and crushed several hundreds of them. The\^ all were of unusually great size, full-grown specimens, and evidently had all emerged from their winter quar- ters at the same time, called forth by the warm spring day. One particular chap was of such great size that I stepped out of the car to kill him for his skin. He retreated to a small bush near the edge of the trail and fought back fiercely, making repeated strikes at the heavy stick with which I belabored him. It was my intention to injure his skin as little as possible, and it took some time to dispatch him, as he seemed to have more than the nine lives traditionallv allotted to the cat. However, he *-=^-r«r^4ij^. The mesquite chaparral of the Rio Grande border in Texas is the home of the diamond-hack rattlesnake, the largest of this species of poisonous reptiles DIAMONDBACKS 93 finally had to give up, and 1 slung him on the running board while his jaws were yet spasmodically making their plucky, dying attempts to open and strike. Next morning I had a Mexican skin him. This was done by cutting off his head and tail and turn- ing his skin inside out, peeling it off the carcass. The skin was then reversed, the tail end tied with a string, and the snake's beautifully marked cover filled with cornmeal to absorb all the moisture from its inside. Finally, the head opening was tied se- curely with a string, and the affair, looking like a huge sausage, was thrown across some of the baggage in the tonneau. I noticed the Mexican carefully buried the broad, arrow-shaped head of the snake in order to remove the danger of anyone stepping on it and possibly being poisoned by its fangs. When we pulled up to the door of one of the hotels in San Antonio, one of the negro bellhops solicitously came out to help remove the baggage. His eyes fairly bulged and his complexion turned almost pale with fright when he reached in for the suitcases and his hand came in contact with the filled snakeskin. With a howl he jumped back and no argument could induce him to again approach the car until I had removed the "snake," To tell the truth, this descendant of the tempter of the Garden of Eden did look mighty lifelike until one noticed the absence of its terminal extremities. It was a real Texas diamondback, the pattern on its back being most clearly marked in black, gray and white, a really rattling big rattler. The Top of the Cascades FOR some years after the advent of the auto- mobile the State of Washington, as far as concerned motor vehicle traffic, was to all practical purposes almost like two different hemi- spheres. The great "Inland Empire," as the East Washingtonians proudly, and with justice, like to call their part of the State, was practically isolated from the Puget Sound counties by the Cascade range of mountains, except for a rough trail with steep grades through the dense forest which clad Snoqualmie Pass. This corduroyed and slab-lum- bered trail was in fact so exceedingly difficult to negotiate and its passage attended with such hazards and strain on the heavy, low-powered motor cars of that day that the motorists who crossed the range in a season could almost be counted on the fingers of one hand. In addition to the difficulty of the pass, the necessity of ferrying five miles along the shores of Lake Ketchelus was another deterrent, as the ferry service, intended for the limited horse- drawn traffic which found its way over this route, was very primitive and uncertain. This was the condition when 1 laid out what I called the Northwest Trail from Chicago to Seattle, which route is now called the National Parks High- way, because it gives access by short side trips from the main trunk line to three national parks — the Yellowstone, Glacier and Mount Rainier. After plowing through deep dust, a sort of volcanic ash, in Central Washington, crossing the apple belt of the Columbia River country, and making the pas- 94 The saivtooth peaks of the Cascade Mountains, at tlie summit of Snoquaimie Pass in Washington, make this region one of the most rugged in the United States 96 THE TOP OF THE CASCADES sage over Blewett Pass, the first car to accomplish this feat — and it was some difficult task, with the steep grades and many unbridged boulder-strewn crossings of Peshastin Creek — we finally arrived at the shores of Lake Ketchelus. We rang the bell which was placed here to call the ferry from its ''home port," some five miles distant, the sound being perfectly audible even that far away in this silent solitude, and, in fact, much intensified by the echo which was thrown back as from a sounding-board by the forest-clad, steep shores. After nearly two hours' wait we managed with great care to embark the car on the none too safe-appearing old scow which, in connection with a tiny gasolene-motored launch, constituted the ferry. This ferry, by the way, was made unnecessary the following year by reason of the construction of a highway along the shore of the lake. On disem- barking we set out at once up the trail towards the summit of the Cascades, which like saw-teeth pierced the sky ahead of us. The ascent was fairly gradual, with occasional steep pitches, but the trail itself was exceedingly rough and narrow, winding in and out among giant pines and firs. In the middle of one of these steep places we encountered an old man who was endeavoring to coax an emaciated old horse to exert another ounce of effort in attempting to drag a dilapidated buggy up the trail. The bony structure of the horse was so evident under its gray, mangy skin that he ap- peared more like a skeleton of a horse than one of flesh and blood. The buggy was held together with generous applications and sundry bandages of baling wire. All in all, the whole outfit — man, horse and THE TOP OF THE CASCADES 97 buggy — was about as nearly played out as any outfit I had ever seen in all my travels. As neither kicks, curses nor kind words seemed to have any effect on the poor brute in the shafts, and as it was impossible in that particular spot to drive around this archaic assembly, we stopped the car and offered to help. Putting shoulders to the wheels, we pushed the buggy as well as the horse along for a couple of feet, when the worn equine, evidently thinking it was time for a real siesta, or possibly figuring that we might carry him as well as the buggy to the top of the grade, lay down in the shafts with a thud, breaking at the same time one of the shafts and the single-tree. Unhitching the ropes, which served for harness, and backing the buggy, we fixed up the damage with wire, with Volcanic ash, ivhich forms tlie soil of the lonver Yakima River country in Washington, may be great for raising crops hut, being almost gritless like flour, is a 'very unsat- isfactory material for roads. Great clouds of floating dust hover for hours over the country after the passage of a motor car during dry iveatlier 98 THE TOP OF THE CASCADES which the buggy was principally loaded, and then tried to induce the horse to realize that it was entirely unethical to slumber in the middle of the trail, at least out of hours. But he refused to understand our various arguments, unconcernedly stretching out on his side and continuing his visit to horse heaven, the old gentleman in the meantime insisting that his faithful friend was neither balky nor worn out — no, sir, no more than he was him- self — but merely a little tired. And when he be- came tired, he usually took a rest. As the old man's appearance seemed to point to an age of close to four score years, and conveyed no indication of prosperity or means of feeding either himself or his horse, this assurance was not very encouraging. However, his story proved in- teresting, as he told of his having traveled all the way from Texas with his outfit; had spent seven months on the trail and was headed for Canada, where he had heard there were fine chances to get free land and opportunities were offered to "get ahead" for anyone that was strong and willing to work. He presented such an illuminating example of optimism and undiluted pluck that we were forced to gaze at the man in wonder and admiration. Meanwhile, the horse had evidently figured out that there was nothing further to be gained by playing 'possum, so he struggled to his feet and started wabbling ahead, and we wisely let him go to get him out of the way. Hauling and pushing the buggy to the top, we found him calmly waiting to be again tied to the shafts. He positively seemed to enjoy the support of the two wooden braces, as they furnished him something to lean on. With a The patlifiyider, passing through the giant forest of Snoqnnlmie Pass, Washington, made his nvay ever atrocious corduroy roads like these, noiv replaced by an excellent highway 100 THE TOP OF THE CASCADES generous donation from our commissary, we left the old gentleman and his horse with the best wishes for a successful ending of his adventure. I can almost assert that I saw the old joker of a horse slyly wink at me as I turned in the car to wave a final greeting to his master as we forged ahead. How on earth this outfit negotiated the grades that we found farther up the trail has always been a mystery to me. After battling with the rotten corduroy road, which by reason of the fact that the sun never pene- trated through the dense tops of the immense forest trees was everywhere slippery and slimy, we eventually found good going at North Bend and arrived at Seattle safely. The photographs which I had taken to show the condition of this sole route for vehicle connection between the east and west part of the state was so convincing, when repro- duced in the Seattle papers, accompanied by a story of the state of affairs and the importance of having them remedied, that a movement was set on foot to effect necessary improvements. Two years sub- sequently an $800,000 highway with easy grades throughout carried the increasing motor-car traffic through Snoqualmie Pass. This year and next, 1920 and 1921, the highway will be paved with concrete. In the Bighorns SOME years ago I made a survey of the Black and Yellow Trail, which is a direct cross- country route from Minneapolis to the Yel- lowstone National Park, and gets its name because it runs through the Black Hills of South Dakota and Yellowstone Park. It crosses the northern part of Wyoming and in this region traverses a rough and unsettled country, running across a region of so-called "bad lands," besides crossing the Bighorn mountains and the Powder and Bighorn rivers. We traveled with two cars, a large one for carry- ing passengers and their personal baggage, and a small, light car to carry tents and general camp equipment. We encountered considerable rough going in South Dakota, at one time passing through a large section where dry farming had been at- tempted by many settlers who had been induced by unscrupulous land agents to buy land at low rates and on long payments, only to be compelled to give up the hopeless task of raising crops after several years of deprivation and hardships. They had simply left for other parts, abandoning their equity in the lands and all improvements. Their aban- doned dugouts or small shacks dotted this region and remained as monuments to their brave efforts and blasted ambitions to be self-supporting and pro- ducing owners of homes. These were indeed monu- ments of sadness, failure and despair. Near Huron we passed a large ranch owned by a half-breed Indian, on which he raised buffaloes. The American bison, even those kept on fenced 101 102 IN THE BIGHORNS ranches, had become so scarce since their extermina- tion as wild game, that specimens were in much demand for zoological gardens all over the country, and this particular herd had so dwindled that their owner desired to dispose of those remaining, some fifty animals. They were offered to the United States Government, but, through parsimony, red tape, or lack of foresight, or possibly a mixture of all three, the negotiations were so prolonged that the owner of the herd accepted an offer for them from the Canadian Government, and these splendid, slow-breeding animals were thus lost to our country. Leaving Deadwood, in the Black Hills, where the surrounding rich mining region has much besides the tales of the exploits of Deadwood Dick and the experiences of the Deadwood stage to make it fa- mous, we traveled via the poetically named town of Sundance, reminiscent of Indian ceremonies, and across the ''bad lands," a region where nothing but sage brush grows — and often not even that — to Buffalo, and then entered the Bighorn mountains after descending the steep grade of Crazy Woman's Hill, on the creek of the same euphonious name. Everything went well and we expected to reach Ten Sleep — another illuminating Indian name, one sleep meaning a day's travel — by night. As the trail was very dim we hesitated at one place, where it forked and either trail showed about the same usage, or rather lack of usage; and, as most often is the case, he who hesitates is lost. Thus we chose the wrong fork, and after ascending and descending several steep moraines which tested our cars to the utmost, we finally attained the crest of the moun- tains, where my aneroid showed an altitude of 9,500 IN THE BIGHORNS 103 feet. It was now near dusk and I realized we had taken the wrong fork, some fifteen miles back. To make matters worse, as we were struggling out of a small swampy spot the strain became too great for metal to stand and our rear live axle snapped. Here was a cheerful situation: forty miles from the nearest habitation, which was at Ten Sleep ; nearly two miles up in the air, and, to cap the climax, a very slender supply in our commissary box. Although it was practically midsummer, only barely past the middle of August, the evening and night was bitterly cold and the blazing logs of the campfire felt very grateful. Realizing that we would be out of food in another twenty-four hours, I was mighty glad that we had two cars with us. Next morning the small car was dispatched to Ten Sleep to have the broken axle welded, if perchance there was a blacksmith in the little town; if not, it would have to proceed to Worland, another forty miles beyond and rough going all the way. In either case it would be gone at least two days, so that the prospects of reduced rations for the remain- ing party loomed bright ineed. Strolling around the neighborhood of the camp during the day, it seemed to me on a couple of occasions that I heard the distant bleating of sheep, but again, on listening intently for a repetition of the sound, I was unable to verify my impression. The next morning, after a slim breakfast, we had an empty foodbox — and our appetites were mighty keen up there in the wonderfully pure air. Again I thought I heard sheep bleating, and determined to set out on a trip of exploration. After going a couple of miles I knew that I had chanced upon 104 IN THE BIGHORNS A couple of days ^vne spent at this palaiial residrmr, the home of a sheepman on top of the Bighorn mountains in Wyoming, ivhile repairing damages to our car the right direction, and that my impression about the sheep was right, for now I very distinctly heard the sheep and also the barking of a dog. Hastening in the direction of the sound, I found a flock of some two thousand sheep, with a herder in attendance. He was a white man and very glad to see one from the outside. After an explanation of our predicament, he directed me to his wagon, his lonely home on wheels, and told me to help myself from his ample commissary, containing flour, bacon, condensed milk, canned fruit and other necessaries. He also lent me his horse to carry the stuff to our camp, but could not leave his flock for fear of it being attacked by wolves. This generous hospitality put us beyond danger of privation. On returning with the horse later in the day, the herder refused absolutely to accept any recompense for the IN THE BIGHORNS 105 food and would only take some magazines which I had hrought him. That night the other car returned from Ten Sleep, where the axle had been welded by a black- smith, who fortunately was located there, and also bringing a supply of food. Next morning we set out retracing our way towards the fork where we had made our mistake three days before. Before reaching that far, however, the axle once more broke in the same place, and again the little car had to make the rough journey to Ten Sleep m another effort to have the damage repaired. That night a heavy snow fell on the mountains, and it was bitterly cold. While wood was plentiful it was wet from the snow, and thus it was difficult to keep the campfire ablaze, causing us keen suffering, as we had hardly sufficient clothing to keep warm under such conditions after dividing it with two of our party who were quite thinly clad. Another two days and our little savior car ap- peared, and once more we were able to move. 1 his time we made within twenty miles of Ten Sleep when for the third time the axle snapped, again in the same place. The little car's journey to the blacksmith shop and return this time was made within twenty-four hours, and eventually we reached the little town and, to our great delight, found as clean and well kept a little hotel as it had ever been our pleasure to encounter. For many a long day the comforts of this place, with its good home-cooked food, re- mained in our grateful memory, after the trials and tribulations on top of the Bighorns. Photographing the Red Man IT IS said that all Indians are averse to being photographed. My pathfinding has at one time or another brought me in contact with most of our Indian tribes, and as I am a consistent camera fiend my experiences have shown that upon the whole this assertion is fairly correct. How- ever, with few exceptions I have found that the Indian is generally a shrewd enough business man to appear hostile towards the camera until he is properly mollified by a dose of palmoil. The more copious this dose the more amenable towards the ordeal he becomes and the less fear of ''the evil eye" he exhibits, even to the extent of overcoming religious scruples. On the Flathead reservation, in Montana, I was told that it would be absolutely impossible to get Chief Louis Pierre to pose for a snapshot, but, being properly introduced and having applied the uni- versal persuader in a diplomatic and generous manner, he consented to "have his picture took." However, first he sent one of his bucks for his favorite cayuse, as he deemed it below his dignity to be photographed afoot, like the humbler members of his household. Mounted on his horse, he issued commands to his followers and ordered them to procure their rifles and guns from the tepees. He then arranged them to suit his idea of martial posi- tion and, taking a stand at the head of the line, grandiloquently signalled to "let her go." At another place on the same reservation I no- ticed a tepee picturesquely located near the shore of 106 PHOTOGRAPHING THE RED MAN 107 Chief Louis Pierre, of the Flathead Indians in Montana, insisted on mounting his cayuse and marshalling the male members of his family, heavily armed, into proper forma- tion before consenting to being photographed Flathead Lake and surrounded by small white birch trees. It made such an unusually pleasing picture to the eye that I jumped out of the car and ap- proached, in the meantime adjusting the focus as well as the aperture and speed of the shutter to suit the light. As I snapped the shutter some one on the inside of the tepee heard the click and an Indian came out with a bound, leveling a Win- chester rifle at me. He looked fiercely at me and insisted that I take out the film and destroy it in his presence. But again the silver-tongued clink of coin made it all right. Once, among the Mohave Indians near Needles, California, I attempted in vain to persuade several picturesquely squalid individuals to consent to being photographed. By various ruses I had managed to steal a few snapshots, when I encountered an ex- 108 PHOTOGRAPHING THE RED MAN ceptfonally good subject in the way of an old crone, sitting before her reed hut, making pearl watchfobs. I used my most persuasive arguments and bought more than enough watchfobs to last me for the rest of my life; but it was no use, she persistently and most emphatically refused to be photographed. As I had my camera open, with proper adjustments except as to focus, I surreptitiously set this at twenty feet and turned on my heel, ostensibly to leave the neighborhood. When I was about twenty feet away from the hut I suddenly whirled around and snapped the button. The old squaw showed surprising agility in get- ting to an erect position. She picked up a couple of stones and hurled one of them with great force directly at me, exhibiting the greatest fury as she came running towards me. Fortunately I dodged the first missile, turned on my heel and beat an ignominious retreat at top speed. My driver had the car nearby with the motor running, and as I jumped in the second stone came whistling through the air and struck the fender of the car, making quite a dent in it. As I turned around to watch the enemy, she was picking up another stone and came running after us, but of course in a few sec- onds we were beyond range. The Yuma Indians are even more hostile to the camera than their cousins, the Mohaves. Tourists who stop over from transcontinental trains for a visit in the town of Yuma find that these Indians, men as well as women, are most expert at shielding their faces when encountered on the sidewalks of the town. They always have an eagle eye cocked for cameras and are prone to make trouble when PHOTOGRAPHING THE RED MAN 109 they think that some one has succeeded in taking a snapshot of them. Realizing the situation, I took a drive out on their reservation and visited some of their farms, but was in every instance unsuccessful in persuading any of the tribe by any means whatsoever to con- sent to be photographed. Even their chief, Pas- quale, who seemed most intelligent, would not have his picture taken on any condition. I had about given up the hope of success when I encountered two squaws at a place where the road was com- pletely hidden from the surrounding country by tall reeds. They were returning to their houses on the reservation from a visit to the town. Stopping the car, I pulled out a handful of silver coin and, after much talk and the promise of a dollar apiece, they consented to let me take a photograph of them, pro- vided I was sure that no one was in sight to see the performance and upon my solemn promise that I w^ould not show the pictures to any one in Yuma. I decided to use the plate camera in place of the kodak, in order to secure a large photo of them and also to insure perfect focus. There is where I made my mistake. While the tripod was being erected and the formidable camera with its black focusing cloth gotten in readiness, the inherent fear of the thing evidently began to take possession of them and make them exceedingly nervous. I noticed their trepidation and hastened to get everything in shape, not even taking the time to procure a careful and sharp focus. As I squeezed the bulb and they heard the click of the shutter, they turned and ran into the reeds as fast as they could, without waiting for their dollars. This disregard of the money con- 110 PHOTOGRAPHING THE RED MAN vinced me that their fear was genuine and that I might count myself lucky to have secured this pic- ture, even though the focus proved to be a little off. Among the pueblos of New Mexico there is little trouble to get Indians to pose for the camera, as they have long since learned that the operation is as painless as it is profitable and that no evil results follow. But some of these tribes have been badly spoiled and have acquired quite an inflated idea of their value as artistic subjects. Thus at Acoma I was not allowed by the governor of the pueblo to unpack my photographic outfit without first paying a fee of five dollars into the local government treasury. At Zuni I found little difficulty in getting the governor of that pueblo to act as my official guide and introducer to any member of the tribe whom I might want to photograph, of course for a con- sideration, both to the guide and to the subjects. But when I tried to get permission to picture the Shalako Dances, one of their most picturesque re- ligious ceremonies, I met a most positive refusal and had to give up the effort to do so. While the Navahos and Hopis do not like to be subjects for the camera and their women will hide their faces so as not even to be able to see the evil contrivance which takes the pictures, it is usually not very difficult to overcome this aversion if diplo- matically handled. However, at religious cere- monies it is exceedingly difficult to secure the assent of the heads of the clans to the taking of photo- graphs. But it has been done. The Apaches, Papagos and Pimas are entirely indifferent to the camera and do not mind it in the least. Americans All IN TRAVELING through the country districts in many of our Western, Central Western and even Southern States, one will frequently strike a county inhabited almost exclusively by emigrants from one particular European nation. It impresses one most forcibly that though these people often cling to their native language and in their homes retain in large measure their former method of liv- ing, cooking their food and even to some extent of fashioning their clothes, they strongly maintain that above all they are Americans and with great indig- nation resent any assertions which tend to impugn their whole-hearted loyalty to the Stars and Stripes. Of course, we have with us anachronisms like the Louisiana French and the New Mexican Mexicans, a large percentage of whom, in spite of living under our flag for generations, do not speak or even under- stand the English language. Then there are the numerous Indian tribes, the original Americans, of whom only a certain percentage understand our language or care to learn it. However, the foreign immigrants as a rule do learn our tongue in course of time and at least are ambitious that their children shall attend schools and become Americans, in all respects like the majority of their fellow citizens. But there are localities in some of the more re- mote regions where these people sometimes become to some extent isolated, and this condition tends to handicap the fulfillment of their desire for inter- mingling with English-speaking people and to main- tain, with small opportunities for a change, their 111 112 AMERICANS ALL Passing the Pueblo of Lagiina, Neiv Mexico. This littlt- Indian republic, ivith its old church and storied apart- ment houses, is directly by the path of one of the main transcontinental motor routes old-country language and ways. Again, there are a few instances where certain nationals, especially if they have arrived on our shores when past middle age, find the acquisition of our language so difficult that, in view of the fact that they live among their old-country folks and hence are not compelled to learn any other tongue, they naturally do not make a very serious effort to do so. Not long ago, I travelled through Illinois on an inspection tour over the Lincoln Highway and had reached a point only a few miles directly south of Chicago, when we were overtaken by a storm which soon made the dirt road so slippery and the going so heavy that we decided to pitch camp in the first likely spot available. This proved to be a country schoolhouse yard with nice clean grass, wood in the shed and good water at the pump. Directly AMERICANS ALL 113 across the road was a neat cottage occupied by the pastor of a nearby German church. After snugging up the camp I went across to interview our neighbors, having in mind the acqui- sition of some fresh eggs and milk. A fine-looking man with about seventy years behind him sat on the enclosed porch, and to him I addressed my intro- ductory remarks, but in reply received only a pleas- ant smile and a sign to step indoors. Here I met a young woman, who explained to me that her father did not understand English, but that she would be very glad to supply our wants. After a few minutes' conversation with her 1 learned, to my astonishment, tliat her father had served the nearby church as its pastor forty-five years. As tlie necessity for learning Englisli liad never been pres- ent, he had never seriously tackled the task whicli The black gumbo soil of Central Illinois, so fertile for the raising of crops, nvhen ivet makes poor material for roads. Failure to put on Weed chains in time soon stops progress 114 AMERICANS ALL he had found so full of difficulties when he first arrived. At another time in Western Illinois we again had trouble with muddy roads and our engine over- heated, necessitating a stop for water at a farm house. The dwelling house and barns were neatly painted and the premises as well kept as a suburban estate. Our driver, who was of Polish descent and quite well acquainted with several Central Euro- pean languages and dialects, went in and asked an old man on the porch if he could have some water from the well. The answer was a vacant stare which eloquently indicated that the request was not understood, so the driver made the same inquiry in Russian, Polish, German and three or four dia- lects without better success. Noticing that he started for the w^ell to get the water without the formality of a permission, I called him back and tackled the job of reaching the old gentleman's intelligence myself. Though he evi- dently was not of the Latin race, I asked him in French and Spanish without eliciting even a glance of understanding, when all at once it occurred to me to try him in one of the Scandinavian tongues, which really should have been the most obvious to try first, in view of the old man's cast of features. As I was born in Norway, I tried him with Nor- w^egian first and struck the right note with the first touch. A sunny smile lighted up his face as a perfect stream of a Norwegian dialect, used in one of the most remote valleys of the mountainous Land of the Midnight Sun, issued from his lips. He told me he had been at his wits' end trying to make out what we were all talking about. The AMERICANS ALL 115 wonder of it was that he had lived right on that farm for forty-two years. As the county was settled almost exclusively by his countrymen, he had never learned English, though he had been a citizen for a generation and voted regularly at every election. In Northeastern Colorado I camped one night near a farm in a community of Russians, a very small number of whom could speak English. They were good farmers and cast their votes at all elec- tions. In Wisconsin, Minnesota and the Dakotas are many counties where English is rarely heard except where the younger folks congregate without the elders being present. Covering the Old Spanish Trail along the Gulf Coast in Louisiana, I once had to make a detour across some marsh lands on account of road con- struction, and before proceeding very far promptly mired too deep to move either forwards or back- The roads tlirouyh the cypress s^iuimps on the Gulf coast in Luuisiana are often so sticky and "slithery" that it is almost impossible to keep from sliding into the ditch 116 AMERICAXS ALL wards. Noticing a plantation not far away, I pro- ceeded over to the main building and requested from a man in the yard his assistance and the use of a pair of horses, but had to use French before my request was understood. While he understood my bookish French, it was exceedingly difficult for me to understand his patois, or Louisiana French. His people had lived there for generations but had been too proud to try to learn English, and besides it was not at all necessary to take the trouble to do so. as these people do not travel far from home and the neighbors all understand each other. Out' voiilez I'ouzf In New Mexico, we arrived one evening at Rito Quemado, in the remote western part of Socorro County, a hundred miles from a railroad. This little Mexican settlement is on the National Old Trails route and 1 had on another occasion put up overnight at the house of Anastacio Baca, the store- keeper. None of the Baca family understood a word of English, though New Mexico has been under the Stars and Stripes since 184S. We were made welcome with the open-hearted, proverbial hospitality of the Mexican race. ^Vhile eating our meal, it was most amusing to watch my wife and senora Baca carry on a conversation without either one understanding a word of the other's language. In spite of this, through some feminine intuition or freemasonry of the sex. they seemed to be able to make each other understand without further diffi- culties than more or less acrobatic gestures, rolling of the eyes and waving of the arms. At least, so tlie performance looked to me. who was all the time AMERICANS ALL 1 17 wondering how a mere ignorant male would have succeeded under similar circumstances. Another thing is soon noticed hy any observant traveler into country districts, and that is that he finds no settlements of Hebrews, Italians, Greeks, Turks or Spaniards. These races seem to prefer congregating in cities, and devote themselves to trades and commerce rather than agriculture. The races that make our real farmers — the backbone of our western agricultural regions, the producers of the fruit of the soil — come from Central and Northern European countries. And, best of all, these races amalgamate and fit themselves most readily into things American. They generally come with intention to stay and do stay for good, become citizens and are proud of the privilege. As 1 am writing this the 77th Division, having just returned from France, where it made a most glorious record for itself in the World War, is parading up Fifth Avenue, past my office windows. The division is made up of New York City boys drawn from almost every race on earth. Jews from many lands, Italians, Armenians, Poles, Greeks, Czecho-Slovaks, Jugoslavs, Rumanians, Hungarians, Germans, Scandinavians and many other original ingredients of the melting pot, march by, proud of having served the flag — now Americans all and the sinews of the nation. Some ^^ Hotels ! " NATURALLY, I have had a rather unusual opportunity in my ramifying motor trips to sample hotels. I have found that there are more varieties of "hotels" in our country than are embodied in the various names of hotel, hostelry, inn, tavern, cafe, wirthaus, rathskeller, bodega, kaiserhof, pensionat, and all other European varie- ties of establishments that cater to looking after a wayfarer, all put together. The term hotel is ap- plied indiscriminately to such establishments as the Commodore in New York and the Blackstone in Chicago, or the Ambassador at Atlantic City, whose vast piles look more like huge office buildings than anything else, all the way dow^n through the chro- matic scale to such structure as the shack at Cisco, Utah, which proudly exhibits the sign "hotel" over its door, the sole entrance into a hut built of dis- carded railroad ties stood on end. Also, the disposition of some of the lordly beings who superintend the management of some of the gilded palaces are as different from that of the humble bonifaces who in their shirt sleeves come out and with glad hand of hospitality help to carry in your baggage as human nature is given to differ. On my first trip across the United States in a motor car, w^e put up at one of the more pretentious hotels in one of the largest Middle West cities, a big, multi-storied building with pretensions to have everything of the very latest in comforts and clock- like management, including a special clerk for each floor. That night a thief entered our suite, chloro- us SOME "hotels" 119 formed my wife and me, and carried away all our traveling money, amounting to several hundred dollars, but carefully and studiously refrained from touching any of the jewelry which was openly dis- played on the dresser. When we came out of our narcotic coma and realized what had happened and a search divulged the theft, I of course made a complaint to the man- ager. He merely calmly asserted that such a thing could not happen in his well-regulated establishment and seemed to think that that assertion should suffice, and that I really was quite presumptuous in insisting that it nevertheless had happened. The situation was something like the Irishman in jail who insisted he really was there, though his lawyer maintained that he could not be jailed for the alleged offense. This hotel typified the high note at one end of the chromatic scale, while the shack at Cisco typi- fied the other extreme or bass note. Within a dozen miles of the little town of Cisco, of a half dozen houses near the Utah-Colorado line, we had the misfortune to break several teeth in the master gear of the differential on our car, and were com- pelled to stop and stay where we were while our companion car ran into Cisco for a team of horses. In the course of nearly two days these arrived and hauled us in. When we reached Cisco, tired and worn after our trying experience in this desolate country, we were dismayed to find that the "hotel" was a low structure built of discarded railroad ties stood side by side on end, and naturally so low that we had to stoop upon entering. Asking the woman, whom I found in the kitchen, 20 SOME HOTELS The pathfinder often encountered I'ery primitive accom- modations ivhich, hoivever, generally ii-ere offset by the glad hand of ivelcome and hearty hospitality it she had a room for iis, she said: "Sure; help >oiirself." Inciuirin*: where the room was. she pointed to a pile of bhinkets, heaped in a corner of tlie only other room outside of the culinary depart- ment, and told us to take one, spread it out wher- e\er our fancy dictated, and ri^ht there was our room and also our bed. for which she made the modest ciiarge of fifty cents, payable in advance. AVhile this was somewhat discoura<::ing. we were pleasantly surprised to sit down to a really good home-cooked meal, \\hich with beds prepared by means of our car's cushions made us feel that lots of folks fared worse than we did that night. In the hot country of the IMohave. Colorado and Gila river deserts there are other hotels besides the well-managed railroad hotels, such as those of the Harvey system, usually named after one of the Spanish conquistadores or padres. At the smaller SOMI- "JIOTI'LS" 121 desert railroad stations — there l")einlfi,Uil. uulho, o/ lal,-^ <./ ,/ I'alliJiiuU'i, ' sr.ure.l (,2,000 miles from his 'A'OCBi'" Treads in 1914 ^^ J he success of any Cx tour depends largely on tires that give good dependable service right up to the end of the final mile. United States Tires are Good Tires 'Royal Cord' 'Nobby' 'Chain' 'Usco' and 'Plain' ;|r m m THERE'S A TOUCH OF TOMORROW IN ALL COLE DOES TODAY nPHE economy of the cAero- -*- Eight, its easy riding quali- ties, its quick pickup, its tena- cious road adherence and general efficiency,inall,may be attributed largely to the perfect balance created by its aerotype construc- tion. The car rides the road with the same even keel that the aeroplane maintains in flight COLE MOTOR CAR COMPANY Creators cfcAdvanced <^otor Qars INDIANAPOLIS, U.S.A. \Wj', A^ This is What a Skid Does ! It actually grinds away the tire's tread — stretches and weak- ens the fabric— causes inevitable punctures and blowouts. Every time you skid you grind off miles and miles of tire ser- vice and no matter how careful a driver you may be, when roads are wet and slippery it is next to impossible to avoid skidding unless your tires are equipped with Weed Anti-Skid Chains For Protection and Preservation Weed Chains insure safety, economy and tire protection— Always put them on "At the First Drop of Rain," ^^' AMERICAN CH AIN C OMPANY, INC. /A \ A C / ^^ BRIDGEPORT \V/ CONNECTICUT Largest Chain Manufacturers in the World An Applied Ideal "Every great enterprise is but the lengthened shadow of a man." ^ Another way to say the same thing is, *'The quality of any product truly reflects the character of the men who make that product." ^ We accept that axiom on behalf of the Reo product and of the Reo organization. q Reo is one of the largest concerns in the motor car industry. ^ But Reo has never been ambitious to be the largest. ^ Reo never will contend for that doubtful distinction. ^ From the very in- ception of this concern it has been our ambition, our purpose and our policy to build, not the most —but the best. ^ It was resolved then that Reo never would build more motor cars than we could build and be sure that every Reo would be as good as the best Reo that ever came from these plants. q To that policy v;e have always rigidly adhered. q Your approval of the Reo product— expressed in the over-demand Reo motor cars and motor trucks have always enjoyed— encourages us to believe that you fully approve that policy, fl Not the most, but the best— the precept crystallized in the product —the ideal practically applied, q In the beginning of this, the seventeenth year of Reo, we thank you most heartily for your patronage in the past; and we assure you that, since the same executives will continue to control Reo, the same policy will obtain. Reo Motor Car Co., Lansing, Michigan "^Re Most Beautiful Car in/lmerlca Hundreds of sportsmen have learned to include tlie Paige motor car as a "standard equipment" when planning their excursions back to nature. They have found that the Paige is a splendid com- panion on the trail — eager and Avilling to travel wherever there is traction for four Avheels — blessed Avith the stamina that laughs at hard going. This car, they have concluded, "belongs" to that select little company of tried and proven thorough- breds. It has all the flexibility of a finely balanced casting rod — the po\ver of an express rifle — the speed of a Mallard — the aggressive, fighting spirit of a three-pound brook trout. And because of these attributes, the Paige is trusted and respected as a fine mechanical product the world over. PAIGE-DETROIT MOTOR CAR COMPANY DETROIT, MICHIGAN .'i ,V'J ^1^^ * ""'"''.aBXfC'* ^^^1^ 1. *^*.-^ FROM coast to coast — wherever men travel in motor cars you will find written in the familiar pattern of the Goodyear All Weather Tread this impressive story: More people ride on Goodyear Tires than on any other kind. M. 1 J4,000 Miles On One Jet of Firestojne Tiies fc.' THIS photograph shows Mr. A. L. Westward in his car mounted on Firestone Tires — the identical set which gave 34,000 miles of service. And s?ick service! During Mr. West- ward's "pathfinding" work of the past 15 years he has gone through the most strenuous and hazardous tests of road and trail. flre^fone STCOTT (f ^ms'wMIk AUTOMOBILE construction becomes every year more nearly standardized. But at no time will ideals of quality become so generally practiced but that the extra care and forethought put into Westcott cars will show — in the form of longer life and more solid satis- faction during every year of that long life! THE WESTCOTT MOTOR CAR COMPANY Springfield, Ohio IN REVIEWING "Through the Land of Yesterday ' OUR GLORIOUS SOUTHWEST By A. L. Westgard JOHN % EUSTIS says: "Whether one is a motor tourist or is primarily a student with an insati- ate appetite for things historical, archaelogical, agricultural, industrial and so on, A. L. Westgard's book, "Through the Land of Yesterday," will prove of intrinsic interest and value. It deals specially with the Indian tribes of our great Southwest, including not only those on the reservations but also those of the twenty-six self-governing republics of the Pueblo tribes. In his book Mr. Westgard produces a rare combination of practical advice and suggestions for the traveler, especially the motor tourist, with a wealth of information pertaining to a corner of this great country of which little is known by a majority of our people. Detailed within this book are accurate and interesting descriptions of the houses, customs, language, costumes, food, industries, history, tradi- tions, pagan religion and sacred ceremonies of all the tribes. The climate, physical character of country, scenery, prehistoric ruins, cave-dwellings, gorgeous coloring, different races of people, desert vegetation, animal life, living and petrified forests, mountains and plateaus, fishing, hunting and camping. After reading this book one need not be told that the author has had perhaps an unequalled opportunity to study and to learn at first-hand his subject. Within its covers "Through the Land of Yesterday" contains material that to secure otherwise one would have to virtually browse through an entire library." Endorsed officially by the Governors of Arizona and New Mexico. Profusely illustrated with halftones, pen-and-ink sketches and maps. Printed on fine paper and handsomely bound. PRICE TWO DOLLARS From your bookseller or direct from A. L. Westgard / / 501 Fifth Avenue, New York DISTINGUISHED SERVICE <^ r h^ CADILLAC OLDBMOBILE OAKIxvHD CH^YIiOLE'I' ' 'mm V\ rails; ,CS •■ ..\CTDIi ! GENEFLAL MOTORS COF!J>ORATIOT^ ./ U s 5 i :> I .8§3S a (0 Ills 111 = ^82SS 111 i i i \ ) J SIS ,;/ :S25 J, III! J / / ■* v"/ ^v -_:i^ ". ^ftii';T^ fe ■ s ^^ f- s 1 M.^^ ^' ■ s\'o, 1 ■ -V 'i v< '% m, i/-' d S o ^ CI be ^ XJ 8^ o H X3 _0 09 O Pi CO >• < Ill - s * VQg^ggz ;| - 51. ■o o - 4) tt J- ( *2 «■= = £ Is *s<«§ ?•? o S s a V g a e OO 3£ *sSo5S'^/S^3a,Sfei ^1 I- < z ll. o CO u o [3 ^^ S -^ *^ C^ ' ' CO o> g o eo 94 10 .2 .2 .2 6 Ills g O QO - k O A < D '^ .2 ,2 O ^ p a. -2 OFFICIAL ^JiV MANUAL OF Motor Car Camping "By A. L. WESTGARD Field Representative 1>ublished by AMERICAN AUTOMOBILE ASSOCIATION Riggs Building, Washington, D. C. 501 Fifth Ave., New York Contents Introduction Car Equipment Camp Equipment Camping Clothes The Commissary Selecting the Camp Site Pitching Camp The Camp Fire Camp Sanitation Camp Cooking Breaking Camp The Medicine Kit Health Hints Worth Heedinj Things Worth Knowing Conclusion National Parks National Forests State Game Regulations ILLUSTRATED HANDY POCKET SIZE Price to Non-members of A. A. A. FIFTY CENTS J'ORDANo^'^^^ THE Silhouette is simply a frank ex- pression of another Jordan ideal — a determination to meet the demand for a high-grade car, perfectly balanced, com- fortable, economical, and yet light in weight, compact, and with rare ability to perform. After all, the building toward an ideal has been the keynote of Jordan popularity. Both men and women who have natural appreciation for comfort, poise and atmo- sphere, have found this Jordan Silhouette irresistible in its symmetry of line and beauty of color. The chassis, of finished mechanical ex- cellence, is the lightest on the road for its wheelbase. This Silhouette weighs only 2,800 pounds. Its entire movement is for- ward. No racking sideway or continuous bouncing so conspicuous in the cars of yes- terday. No wonder the Jordan has found such instant favor cmiong the motor wise. JORDAN MOTOR CAR COMPANY, Inc., Cleveland, Ohio Do you want good roads Do you want uniform laws Do you want correct touring information ? Yourmtmbership counts ViV American Automobile Association Washington, D. C, Riggs Building New York, 501 Fifth Avenue at 42nd Street ^ eTiRE Sup rente From year to year, the greater durability, comfort and econ- omy of Goodrich Silvertown Cord Tires have multiplied their use, and intensified their popularity. It was the pioneer service of Silver- towns, the original cord tires, that raised the cord tire to its place of honor. Patricians in look, yeomen for work, Silvcrtowns carry you to the su- preme height of satisfartion. The Creed of Goodrich Whatever is right for a responsible manufacturer to give the customer. The B. F. Goodrich Rubber Company gives. To do what is right is not a Goodrich policy; it is The Goodrich Creed. It is fundatnentaL It is the foundation on which the great Goodrich institu* tion has been built. The Creed of Goodrich serves you, whether you buy a sturdy, dependable Goodrich Fabric Tire, or the tire of tires, the Silvertown Cord. The Goodrich Adjustment Basis: Fabric Tires, 6,000 MiJes, Silvertoum Cords. 8000 Miles. Goodrich Tires FOUNDCO iB«a oeakin^ of ONCRETE ROADS FREETS and ALLEYS 53,000.000 Square YarJs Were Placed Under Contract During 1919 — More tKan twice tKe total of any previ- ous year, ana equivalent to over 5,000 miles of 18-foot concrete pavement. Every state — your state — contributca to tKis wonderful record. Watck 1920! States in Wlitcli Contracts for Tylore than 30 Miles of Concrete RoaJ Were Let During 1919 ArkaoM* Calitoinia Delaware Georgia Illinoi) Indiana Kansas MaryUnci Ma99acKu*ett* Michigan Minnesota Ml*5l9»lppi 87 210 53 90 570 280 (,9 95 31 169 79 38 Jertey York New New OK.O . . . OklaKoma Oregon Pennaytvanu Texaj UtaL . . . Virginia . . Watbington NVett Vtrgini* Wwcoimn 87 329 239 f>9 42 491 59 84 91 161 87 132 NortK, east, south and w^est — CONCRETE is tKe cKoice. PORTLAND CEMENT ASSOCIATION Detroit Heler.a Indianapolis K*n>«>Cily U>» Angel«» 5«lt Ukc C)cy > X ^ O /^^:rn::T-^: ^ " / I. / m .yf' n':\ '-^, Z^-^-^-.' ^"-^ \m -.^-^ "1 "" ^ ;,™^,r. feK;;.;f ■& ~ a L Wheel tracks of the Author's Motor Car 1^ Ik