BY MOTOR to the GOLDEN GATE Digitized by the Internet Archive
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J^' MOTOR, to GOLDEN GATE Wm\ L Y POST ffliiiiffliiifl iiiuililliiiilitlilii w. NX O;-, S.-D Neb. /3. Ca/, ^.f' ^0.^Xf .^1 nnt ^A« /6 .aiS» N^«AS lew Saor Y/ BY MOTOR TO THE GOLDEN GATE Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/bymotortogoldengOOpostrich BY MOTOR to the GOLDEN GATE EMILY POST \%1l A > ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS and ROAD MAPS NEW YORK AND LONDON D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1916 COFTBIGHT, 1916, BT D. APPLETON AND COMPANY COFTBIQBT, 1915, BT P. F. COLLIEB & SoS, IlfC. Printed in the United States of America Bancroft Library TO ^ MY YOUNGER SON T) BRUCE J I PREFACE '*Qui s 'excuse s 'accuse/' Which, I suppose, proves this a defence to start with! But having been a few times accused, there are a few explanations I want very much to make. When this cross-continent story was first suggested, it seemed the simplest sort of thing to undertake. All that was necessary was to put down experiences as they actually occurred. No imagination, or plot or charac- terization—could anything be easier? But when the serial was published and letters began coming in, it be- came unhappily evident that writing fact must be one of the most unattainably difficult accomplishments in the world. In the first place, only those who, having lived long in a particular locality and knowing it in all its vary- ing seasons, are qualified truly to present its picture. The observations of a transient tourist are necessarily superficial, as of one whose experiences are merely a series of instantaneous impressions; at one time colored perhaps too vividly, at another fogged ; according to the sun or rain at one brief moment of time. It would be very pleasant to write nothing but eulo- gies of people and places, but after all if a personal narrative were written like an advertisement, praising everything, there would be no point in praising anything, would there? Compared with crossing the plains in the fifties, the vii ! PREFACE worst stretch of our most uninhabited country is today the easiest road imaginable. There are no longer any dangers, any insurmountable difficulties. To the rugged sons of the original pioneers, comments upon "poor roads"—^that are perfectly defined and traveled-over * ' highways—or ' poor hotels '—^where you can get not only a room to yourself, but steam heat, electric light, and generally a private bath—^must seem an irritatingly squeamish attitude. **Poor soft weaklings" is probably not far from what they think of people with such a point of view. On the other hand if I, who after all am a New Yorker, were to pronounce the Jackson House perfect, the City of Minesburg beautiful, the Trailing Highway splendid, everyone would naturally suppose the Jackson House a Ritz, Minesburg an upper Fifth Avenue, and the Trail- ing Highway a duplicate of our own state roads, to say the least I am more than sorry if I offend anyone—it is the last thing I mean to do—at the same time I think it best to let the story stand as it was written ; taking nothing back that seems to me true, but acknowledging very hum- bly at the outset, that after all mine is only one out of a possible fifty million other American opinions. CONTENTS PAcn I. It Can^t Be Done—But Then, It Is Per- fectly Simple 1 II. Albany, First Stop 15 III. A Breakdown 18 rV. Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana . 23 V. Luggage and Other Luxuries ... 37 VI. Did Anybody Say "Chicken"? ... 41 VII. The City op Ambition 46 VIII. A Few Chicagoans 52 IX. Tins 60 X. Mud!! 67 XL In Rochelle 72 XII. The Weight of Public Opinion ... 75 XIII. Muddier! 79 XrV. One op the Fogged Impressions ... 86 XV. A Few Ways op the West .... 90 XVI. Halfway House 99 XVII. Next Stop, North Platte! .... 107 XVIII. The City op Recklessness .... 119 XIX. A Glimpse op the West That Was . 135 XX. Our Little Sister op Yesterday . 150 XXI. Ignorance With a Capital I . 155 XXn. Some Indians and Mr. X . 159 XXIII. With Nowhere to Go But Out . .172 XXIV. Into the Desert 175 ix CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XXV. Through the City Unpronounceable to an Exposition Beautiful .... 187 XXVI. The Land of Gladness 198 XXVII. The Mettle of a Hero 205 XXVIII. San Francisco 211 XXIX. The Fair . .229 XXX. "Unending Sameness^^ Was What They Said 237 XXXI. To Those Who Think of Following in Our Tire Tracks—To the Man Who Drives 241 XXXII. On the Subject of Clothes—Food Equip- ment—Expenses—Daily Expense Ac- count . .... 251 XXXIII. How Far Can You Go in Comfort?—Some Day 278 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS The Pacific at last! Frontispiece VACINQ PAGB What we finally carried 8 Stowing the luggage 12 Leaving Gramercy Park, New York . .16 Still in New York State 20 The crowd in less than a minute. "Out of the window" in Cleveland 34 One of the exciting things in motoring is wondering what sort of a hotel you will arrive at for the night . 44 Hours and hours, across land as flat and endless as the ocean 84 A bedroom in the Union Pacific Hotel, North Platte—^not much of a hardship, is it? . 108 A straight, wide road; not even a shack in sight—and a speed limit of twenty miles an hour . 112 Wyoming in the ranch country 116 Cripple Creek 120 In the Garden of the Gods 124 Colorado. Pike's Peak in the distance . 128 First cowboys and cattle 132 Halfway across a thrilling ford, wide and deep, on the Huerfano River 136 A glimpse of the West of yesterday .... 140 Your route leads through many Mexican and Indian vil- lages 148 The Indian pueblo of Taos 160 xi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAOa To see the sleeping beauty of the Southwest, the path is by no means a smooth one to the motorist . 170 Across the real desert 180 Our chauffeur takes a day off at the Grand Canyon of the Colorado 184 This is not a gallery in a Spanish palace, but a gallery in the Mission Inn at Riverside, California . 188 In a California garden 192 Under Santa Barbara skies 196 Ostrich Rock, Monterey, California .... 200 On the seventeen-mile drive at Monterey . 208 On a beautiful ocean road of California . , 216 The portico of a California house 226 Sometimes we struck a bad road 244 In order to cross here, E. M. built a bridge with the logs at the right 248 On the famous "staked plains" of the Southwest . 254 BY MOTOR TO THE GOLDEN GATE ' CHAPTER I IT CAN'T BE DONE—BUT THEN, IT IS PERFECTLY SIMPLE course you are sending your servants OFahead by train with your luggage and all that sort of thing," said an Englishman. A New York banker answered for me: **Not at all! The best thing is to put them in another machine directly behind, with a good mechanic. Then if you break down the man in the rear and your own chauffeur can get you to rights in no time. How about your chauffeur? You are sure he is a good one T **We are not taking one, nor servants, nor me- chanic, either.'' *' Surely you and your son are not thinking of going alone! Probably he could drive, but who is going to take care of the car?'' *^Why, heis!" At that everyone interrupted at once. One thought we were insane to attempt such a trip; another that it was a '* corking" thing to do. The majority looked upon our undertaking with typ- ical New York apathy. **Why do anything so dreary?" If we wanted to see the expositions, then let us take the fastest train, with plenty of 1 ! ! BY MOTOR TO THE GOLDEN GATE books so as to read through as much of the way as possible. Only one, Mr. B., was enthusiastic enough to wish he was going with us. Evidently^ though, he thought it a daring adventure, for he suggested an equipment for us that sounded like a relief expedition : a block and tackle, a revolver; a pickaxe and shovel, tinned food—he forgot nothing but the pemmican! However, someone else thought of hardtack, after which a chorus of voices proposed that we stay quietly at home ** They '11 never get there!'' said the banker, with a successful man's finality of tone. *^ Unless I am mistaken, they'll be on a Pullman inside of ten days!" **0h, you wouldn't do that, would you I" ex- claimed our one enthusiastic friend, B. I hoped not, but I was not sure ; for, although I had promised an editor to write the story of our experience, if we had any, we were going solely for pleasure, which to us meant a certain degree of comfort, and not to advertise the endurance of a special make of car or tires. Nor had we any intention of trying to prove that motoring in America was delightful if we should find it was not. As for breaking speed records—that was the last thing we wanted to attempt *^ Whatever put it into your head to under- take such a trip?" someone asked in the first pause. **The advertisements!" I answered promptly. 2 — IT CAN'T BE DONE They were all so optimistic, that they went to my head. **New York to San Francisco in an X * car for thirty-eight dollars ! ' We were not going in an X— car, but the thought of any machine's running such a distance at such a price immedi- ately lowered the expenditure allowance for our own.