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J. A. Graves - Out of Doors - California and Oregon
are now in charge of Mr. and Mrs. Stanford, and are kept in an admirable manner, considering all of the
difficulties they labor under. The run from Los Angeles to the springs is about 140 miles, and can be
made easily in a day. Once there, the choice of many interesting trips is open to you.
Past Temecula.
After leaving Temecula, another road much frequented by the autoists is the right hand road by the Red
Mountain grade to Fallbrook, either to Del Mar, by way of Oceanside, or into the Escondido Valley by
way of Bonsal, Vista and San Marcos. The third route, the center one between those I have described,
leads to Pala. With a party of five in a six-cylinder Franklin car, I went over the latter route on April
20th, 1911. Every inch of the road was full of interest. We passed through Pala, with its ancient mission
of that name, and its horde of Indian inhabitants. The children of the Indian school were having a recess,
and they carried on just about in the same manner that so many "pale-faced" children would. Leaving
Pala, we followed the main road along the left bank of the San Luis Rey River - where the San Diego
Highway Commission is now doing work, which will, when finished, bring one to Warner's ranch by an
easy grade - until we had gotten a few miles into the Pauma rancho. We crossed the Pauma Creek, and
some distance beyond it we left the river to our right, turned sharply to the left, and ran up to the base of
Smith's, or Palomar Mountain. Then came the grade up the mountain.
If you are not stout-hearted, and haven't a powerful machine, avoid this beautiful drive. If you are not
driving an air-cooled car, carry extra water with you. You will need it before you reach the top. The road
is a narrow zigzag, making an ascent of 4000 feet in a distance of from ten to twelve miles of
switch-backing around the face of a steep rock-ribbed mountain. To add to its difficulties, the turns are so
short that a long car is compelled to back up to negotiate them. About an hour and a quarter is required to
make the trip up the mountain. We did all of it on low gear. When the top is finally reached, the view of
the surrounding country is simply beyond description.
Belated Spring.
The mountain oaks of great size and broad of bough, were not yet fully in leaf. Pines and cedars, and to
my astonishment, many large sycamores, were mingled with the oaks. A gladsome crop of luscious
grasses covered the earth. Shrubs and plants were bursting into bloom. As we moved on we saw several
wild pigeons in graceful flight among the trees. After traveling the backbone of the mountain for some
distance we came to a dimly marked trail, leading to the left. The "Major Domo" of our party said that
this road led to Doane's Valley, and that we must go down it. It was a straight up and down road, with
exceedingly abrupt pitches, in places damp and slippery, and covered with fallen leaves. At the bottom of
the descent, which it would have been impossible to retrace, we came to a small stream. Directly in the
only place where we could have crossed it a log stuck up, which rendered passage impossible. After a
deal of prodding and hauling, we dislodged it and safely made the ford.
Doane's Valley is one of those beauty spots which abound in the mountains of California. Its floor is a
beautiful meadow, in which are innumerable springs. Surrounding this meadow is heavy timber, oaks,
pines and giant cedars. Pauma Creek flows out of this meadow through a narrow gorge, which nature
evidently intended should some day be closed with a dam to make of the valley a reservoir to conserve
the winter waters. We followed a partially destroyed road through the meadow to its upper end. Then as
high and dry land was within sight we attempted to cross a small, damp, but uncertain looking waterway.
Wheels Stuck.
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