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J. A. Graves - Out of Doors - California and Oregon
untouched by winter's cruel frosts, unscathed by the torrid breath of sultry summer, a land of perpetual
sunshine, where roses, carnations, heliotrope, and a thousand rare, choice and delicate flowers bloom in
the open air continually, where in the spring time the senses are oppressed by the odor of orange and
lemon blossoms, and where the orchards yield a harvest so fabulous in returns as to be almost beyond
human comprehension.
An Auto Trip Through the Sierras.
Tule River and Yosemite.
I have been in California fifty-four years. During all of this time I had never visited the Yosemite. Before
it was too late I determined to go there. We started in June, 1911.
Accompanied by Mrs. Graves, my son Francis and a friend, Dr. A. C. Macleish, we left Alhambra, June
seventh of this year at seven o'clock a. m. We passed through Garvanza, Glendale and Tropico, and were
soon on the San Fernando road. The run through the town of that name and through the tunnel, recently
constructed to avoid the Newhall grade, was made in good time and without incident.
Newhall.
At Newhall we procured and carried with us a five-gallon can of gasoline. A short distance out of
Saugus, we turned into the San Francisquito Canyon road. Shortly afterwards a brand new inner tube on
the right rear wheel went completely to pieces. It had been too highly cured and could not stand the heat.
We replaced it with another one, and were soon crossing and recrossing the stream which meanders
down the canyon. Constantly climbing the grade, we were whirling from sunshine to shadow alternately
as the road was overhung with or free from trees.
Old Memories Aroused.
I could not help recalling my trip over the same road with my old friend, Mr. A. C. Chauvin, on the third
day of October, 1876. The road was fairly good. Our machine was working nicely, the day a pleasant
one, and the trip enjoyable. In a few hours we reached Elizabeth Lake. I pointed out the very spot at
which Chauvin and myself camped thirty-five years before.
Ah, the fleeting years! How quickly they have sped! What experiences we have had! What pleasures we
have enjoyed! What sorrows endured in thirty-five years! Well it is, that then the future was not unfolded
to me, and that all the enthusiasm and hope and ambition of youth led me on to the goal, which has
brought me so much joy, as well as much sorrow. Momentous events have affected not only my own life,
but the life of nations in these thirty-five years.
Crossing Antelope Valley.
We passed the lake, turning down the grade into Antelope Valley. After several miles of very rolling
country, we halted under some almond trees in a deserted orchard for lunch. The grasshoppers were
thicker than people on a hot Sunday at Venice or Ocean Park in the "good old summer time." We
managed to eat our lunch without eating any of the hoppers, but there wasn't much margin in our favor in
the performance. Before starting we emptied our can of gasoline into the tank. Soon we intercepted the
road leading from Palmdale to Fairmont and Neenach. We passed both of these places, then Quail Lake
and Bailey Hotel. We were soon at Lebec. Then came the beautiful ride past Castac Lake, and down the
canyon, under the noble white oak trees, which are the pride of Tejon Ranch. We passed through Ft.
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