We set out from San Francisco bright and early on the home stretch of our rather impromptu trip to California, and now we were to have no more time for visits, side trips or sightseeing for David was headed for home like a hungry horse at the end of a hard day, or to put it more poetically, "he was the sworn companion of the wind." What we saw would be observed strictly from the road as we sped along, filled out by the memory of what geography and history we could bring to mind. This time we crossed the Bay bridge and wound through Berkeley and other cities that fringe the eastern shore, then struck out northeast for Sacramento. That was about the last place we noticed much tropical vegetation. No more palms and eucalyptus, acacia and pepper trees, but as we said before, while it was wonderful to see those exotic things, it really seemed comfortable and nice to look once more on good old maples, oaks and evergreens.
It began to rain before we were far out of Sacramento, and then to snow. When we went through Donner Pass a thin blanket of white already lay over the mountains and the stormy aspect really made the passage more impressive, for we couldn't help but think back to those days of old when that brave little party of pioneers met their tragic end at this place, starving, freezing and betrayed. We wondered how they had the audacity to seek a way through the mountains. It was bleak enough for us, on that good smooth road, with humans and machines within call if we had trouble, with a heater in the car and food available whenever we wanted it. Such a far cry from the situation then. And still, with all our modern advantages, the weather can still be master, for right here only last year two crack trains were stalled for days in the snow.
By the time we got to Reno people really looked almost blue with cold and the gas man told us they expected a foot of snow by morning. The temperature had dropped suddenly just the day before. The rain would stop and start again, and from time to time it would be snow or sleet or hail; once in a while the sun came out. We went over plains and through mountains, and finally as the rain got heavier we pulled up at Lovelock for supper. Margi and I assumed that was the end of the day's travel. But no! Not with David at the wheel. On we went with ominous mountains drawing close and then receding from us, and a heavy black cloud hanging over the orange strip of sunset sky behind us. We passed Battle mountain but haven't any idea what battle it was named for -- probably some Indian affair. We went through Emigrant Pass in complete darkness and maybe it was just as well -- no telling what damage our nerves might have suffered in daylight.
Finally we pulled into Elko and called it a day. David did the room-scouting for us all the way home, and in this place he secured a palatial suite at a huge motel, three big rooms and bath. Sometimes you hear talk of exorbitant prices for tourist accomodations, but we didn't find any. This was the most expensive anywhere and it cost four dollars each. It might be that we could have bedded down as many people as we liked for the same price. With three double beds and a big davenport, seven could have been quite comfortable. We only regretted we got in so late, for it we had arrived early, and if we had know anybody to invite, we could have held quite a large reception in our apartment.
The cheapest rooms we had, a couple of nights nearer home cost us only $7.50 for the three; but as it was quite late and the hostess was about as sleepy as we were, we are inclined to think she made a mistake. Most places we paid three or three and a half dollars each. At Riverside, Cal., the charge was only $2.50 each, and that was the place where they gave free orange juice when we arrived and offered free coffee and rolls before we left. Most of the places have about the same accommodations: all the hot and cold running water you want, ice water to drink if you want it, always a shower and sometimes a tub besides, air conditioning when it is needed and heating arrangements, very comfortable beds, clean and attractive furniture. Usually there is a good cafe within convenient distance, and what we appreciated was that there was usually one open early enough in the morning to accomodate us. Some places have carports alongside but oftener the cars are just parked around the patio in front of the rooms. Back in Texas and some of those mild southwestern states, we noticed several times that folks just pulled off the road (the shoulders are wide down there) and arranged sleeping quarters in the car. We thought that a young couple trying to economize could very well save quite a bit of cash by doing that. Several times we saw carloads of young fellows just getting up in the morning with a mirror hung somewhere on the car, shaving and getting freshened up for the day.
But to get on with our story, we started from Elko about seven and the weather had cheered up considerably. It was still cold and windy but the sun was out. As we drove on into Utah we thought at first a lot more snow had fallen than we had realized, for the plain was white and crystalline as far as we could see, and with that pale blue sky and bright sun, we thought for a minute we were looking out on a typical winter snow scene. Of course it was just the great salt flats, and off in the distance we could begin to see the blue waters of Great Salt Lake. We reached Salt Lake City at noon and there we made a call on a friend who had lived at the University of Illinois with her two little boys while her husband finished school there. Now they have four boys. We intended just to say hello, take a swing through the city and go on. But she insisted on our joining the family for lunch and then she went sightseeing with us. This was a great advantage, for she had been born and raised here, and was herself a Mormon, in fact, a great-granddaughter of Brigham Young, so she could give us many more interesting and intimate details than most guides. We saw the monument where their leader first said, "This is the place," and of course the temple and the tabernacle and the sea gull monument and the pioneer museum, as well as the lion house with its 20 gables, where Brigham Young's many wives dwelt in harmony together. Our friend pointed out the gable to the apartment of her great-grandmother. Even with this much sightseeing we would have been on our way sooner, except that we got not one of the conducted parties on the temple square, and followed along and listened to the excellent guide expounding her people's history and beliefs. The Mormons are truly a very devout, kindly, generous and tolerant people. Although they suffered much persecution themselves, they never retaliated but invited other sects to come into their valley and settle there. They got along better with the Indians than many pioneers, because they won them with kindness.
It was interesting to think afterward about how close we had been to the heart of three great religions on this trip, and how genuinely generous all of them were: the Franciscan padres of the California missions, the Mormons at Salt Lake, and the Methodists at Santa Barbara. And that reminds me that we copied down the words from two plaques in the church at Santa Barbara. One, it seems to me, was in the church school part of the edifice, and it said:
"Our courteous Lord willeth that we should be as homely with Him as heart may think or soul may desire. But let us beware that we take not so recklessly this homeliness as to leave courtesy. -- Julian of Norwalk."
And the other was near the entrance of the church itself, and said:
"This is a place where prayer is wont to be made, a house which Christ by His Sacramental Presence has made a home."
It was after four when we prepared to leave Salt Lake, and we had hoped to get as far as Rock Springs, Wyo., by that night. Our hostess declared that we couldn't get farther than Evanston, as the road was mountainous and winding and not in extra good condition. But she didn't know David. We found the road just as she said. And it began to rain again besides. But there was no stopping our driver now. At Evanston we merely stopped for supper and went on. We didn't quit till nearly midnight, but we got to Rock Springs, even though we had to wind around mountains in the dark. Back in 1940 or 1941 we had stopped at this town before, coming down from Yellowstone past the Grand Tetons. It didn't exactly seem familiar because it was too dark to see anything, and we drove through and stopped at a motel on the far side, where we could bound out early and dash east again in the morning. At Rock Springs we got another roomy apartment, again with three rooms and a bath, and an extra cot in the kitchen -- and it cost $10 for the three of us.
Soon after 7:00 next morning we were on our way again, on a bright, cold, very windy day, and for quite a while we seemed to be on an endless plain, hardly a mountain to be seen even in the distance -- and this, we found later, was the Great Divide basin. We stopped at Wamsutter, Wyo., and there we had breakfast and mailed our last cards -- and beat them home by three days. We passed the continental Divide and soon ran into mountains again, through Rawlins and Laramie to Cheyenne. When we stopped at Cheyenne before, it was July and the time of rodeos, with many bright-shirted cowboys on the streets. This time we saw something entirely different, namely the air force base named for Francis Warren. David had been stationed here for a while when the base still belonged to the army, and he wanted to take a few minutes to run through it again and show us where he lived. It is a huge place, long established and therefore like a real town. We were impressed by the large brick residences of the officers and the smaller but cheerful cottages for the men (new since David was there), but what impressed us most was the snappy saluting that David rated everywhere he turned. Up to now, among all the aunts and girl cousins, he was just our boy, to park the car and run errands, carry bags and in general look after us -- very dear to us but a little on the order of a porter, we should be ashamed to admit. To be sure he was in uniform, but those captain's bars didn't mean a thing to us civilians. But dear me, when you get into a military environment, how they do count!
A Good Housekeeper Speaks
I was so busy to the day's far end,
I did not write that letter to my friend
In her great need. I had no time at all
To return a neighbor's recent friendly call.
The little child who passed my door went by
Without a smiling answer to her shy
Advancement, and the beggar at my door
Went on, still carrying the burden that he bore.
Even my nearest and my dearest knew
I had no time to spare the long hours through.
And now tonight my house is clean and bright.
The window sills are scrubbed, my boards are white,
The beds are smooth, each dish, neat on its shelf.
I'm pleased with it . . . but not pleased with myself!
Dear God, if a tomorrow may be mine,
Help me, instead, to make my spirit shine.
One should not be too spent at close of day
To read an old loved book, to kneel and pray.-- Grace Noll Crowell.
Memory Gem
The way to get along with a woman is to let her think she is having her own way. And the way to do that is to let her have it.
Memory Gem
I do the very best I can and mean to keep doing so until the end. If the end brings me out all right, what is said against me won't amount to anything. If the end brings me out wrong, ten angels swearing I was right would make no difference. -- Abe Lincoln
Memory Gem
"Badly off as I was, I had a feeling as soon as I got here that this was the place to be, poor or well fixed." -- Victor Borge, Immigrant from Denmark to the U. S. A.
Memory Gem
Too many of us are like wheelbarrows, -- useful only when pushed, and easily upset.
Memory Gem
The sting of a bee carries conviction with it. It makes a man a bee-leaver at once.
Memory Gem
In a flat country molehills look like mountains.