By the Same Author British Highways and Byways from a Motor Car THIRD IMPRESSION WITH FORTY-EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS AND TWO MAPS Sixteen Reproductions in Color, and Thirty-two Duogravures 320 Pages, 8vo, Decorated Cloth Price (Boxed), $3.00 Net In Unfamiliar England with a Motor Car SECOND IMPRESSION WITH SIXTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS AND TWO MAPS Sixteen Reproductions in Color and Forty-eight Duogravures 400 Pages, 8vo, Decorated Cloth Price (Boxed), $3.00 Net Three Wonderlands of the American West SECO

I know quite well that there have been books without end dealing with our great Pacific Coast, and I feel that a writer who adds another ought to have some good excuse for such action. I flatter myself that I have sufficient warrant for this modest addition to western literature in that my book will not deal with the widely traveled and much heralded sections of this great country, but to a large extent with its little visited and comparatively unfamiliar regions. Ninety per cent of existing boo

Twenty thousand miles of motoring had made us familiar with most of the highways and byways of California lying south of San Francisco. Some of these roads we covered but once in our wanderings and others many times—only a few outlying sections and odd corners have so far escaped us and these we hope to add to our conquests in due course of time. I do not think it possible for any motor enthusiast ever to grow weary of the wonderland of Southern California with its miles and miles of splendid ro

There are two routes from Sacramento to Lake Tahoe which carry nine-tenths of the motor travel to that interesting region. Both traverse a picturesque mountain country with a spice of historic and romantic interest and most motor visitors, naturally enough, go by one route and return by the other. That we did not do so was the result of the miscarriage of our plans, due to a break-down of the car we had leased of a Los Angeles dealer for our first trip. This made it necessary to go part of the w

Reno has acquired a nation-wide fame for its “wide open” proclivities and we fear that much of the prosperity we saw on every hand may be due to its liberal though generally deprecated practices. The 1910 census gave the town a population of about ten thousand and if we allow a gain of as much as fifty per cent since then, it is still no more than a good-sized village so far as people are concerned. However this may be, its buildings, public and private, its streets and residences, its shops and

We left Klamath Falls early in the morning with high anticipation. Our destination was one of the great objectives of our tour, for were we not to see Crater Lake, which no competent authority would omit from a list of the seven greatest wonders of America, if not, indeed, of the whole world? The run, every mile of the way, is beautiful and inspiring, a fit introduction to the grand climax that greets you at the end. A few miles out of the town the road took us to the shores of Klamath Lake, whi

On leaving Crater Lake Lodge we were admonished not to miss the Sand Creek Canyon Pinnacles, which we would pass just outside the park. Sand Creek Canyon is a vast ravine several hundred feet in depth with walls so steep that only an experienced mountain climber would dare attempt the descent. At a point nearly opposite the eastern boundary of Crater Lake Park, a multitude of slender sculptured spires ranging up to two hundred feet in height rise from the sides and bottom of the tremendous chasm

Had we known the real character of the road between The Dalles and Hood River we should never have started on that journey while a light rain was falling and lowering clouds seemed portentious of much heavier showers. We had intimations that the road could scarcely be ranked as a boulevard, but we assumed that the so-called Columbia River Highway ought to be passable, even in showery weather, and resolved not to be deterred by the prospect of rain. Luckily for us, the drizzle cleared and the clo

The old Oregon Territory, comprising the present states of Oregon and Washington, has the unique distinction of being the only part of the United States that was actually acquired by exploration and settlement, and this was not accomplished without lively competition from the British. The New England States were wrested from the unwilling hands of Great Britain and we paid the first Napoleon his price for Louisiana. Spain sold us Florida very reasonably when she saw we were going to take it in s

We may admit that it was with considerable misgiving that we left Grants Pass in the early morning for Crescent City on the sea. We had been discouraged in the attempt by the best posted road authorities in San Francisco, who declared that the trip was too difficult to be worth while, and the pleasant young lady who was all there was in sight when we called at the Portland Automobile Club was even more emphatic in her efforts to dissuade us. “Don’t try it,” she said. “The road by the way of Cres

A very dull morning with streets and walks wet from a light, drizzling rain greeted our dismayed vision as we hastily glanced from the hotel windows on rising. The hotel people had duly warned us that they hadn’t a corner left for us for the coming night and we counted it very likely that every hotel and lodging house in Eureka was just as “full up,” as the English say. Furthermore, there was no assurance if it once began to rain that it would let up for a week, for week-long rains are to be exp

EL CAPITAN, YOSEMITE From painting by H. H. Bagg...

When the writer of this book first visited Yosemite a few years ago, no motor car was allowed to intrude in its sylvan solitudes and it was freely alleged by the stage drivers that the time would never come when this noisy, dust-raising demon would be permitted to frighten their horses and disturb their equanimity. Their attitude was one of decided hostility, though they affected to laugh at the suggestion—the roads were too crooked and narrow and the grades too steep for “automobeels”—no, sir,

SOLITUDE—THE ARIZONA NATIONAL FORESTS From painting by Thos. Moran...

Possibly this chapter is out of place in a book of motor travel on the Pacific Coast, for it has somewhat to do with journeyings by railway train and shifts the scene of action to the barren hills and green valleys of Arizona—the land of mystery and contrast without peer among its sister states. In our goings back and forth to California over the Santa Fe Trail, we had often laid plans to stop at the Petrified Forests near Adamana and to visit Phoenix and the great Roosevelt Dam, which waters th