Oh, my beautiful, my California! The whistle of the quail on the open benches is calling me; the mating songs of the mocking birds vibrate in my heart. Up the wide valley the warm wind sweeps, heavy with the fragrance of blossoming trees; on the uplands brilliant masses of flaming poppies and the silvery blue of slender lupines spread a feast of colour for my weary eyes; oranges blaze out in golden glory against the dark green foliage of the thrifty groves; the deep blue of the cloudless sky seems infinite in depth; and in the purple distance the white-capped peaks of San Bernardino and Grayback rear their lofty heads.
TWO
April 27th, 1908.
TWO
April 27th, 1908.
Eureka, I’ve found it—the Great Idea—the craziest scheme that ever popped into a woman’s head!
We’re going home—back to California on a tandem bicycle. We’ll carry a cooking and sleeping outfit with us, stop wherever the night finds us, work when we can get it, and somehow, with God’s help, we’ll win through.
And it has come about in the strangest way. Dan got a chance to help a man he knows clean out an old barn which is to be converted into a garage, and in the loft along with the accumulation of years, they ran across a tandem bicycle which is in excellent condition. The owner gave it to Dan’s friend who thought he could sell it for something, even though cycling is out of date.
When Dan told me of the occurrence an intense longing for the open road leading into the west surged over me, but I could see no way of securing the wheel since our funds totalled less than five dollars.
Then I said to myself, “There is a way. You must find it,” and resolutely set my subconscious mind to the task.