My next motor trip was from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara; there the scenery compares with that of Nevada as an exquisite water color compares to a grand old oil painting. We went spinning along over a perfect road from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, and I felt that America might well be proud of this wonderful state. Surely none other possesses such a variety of climate, or such a variety of beauty. Hardly do I dare attempt a description of all this magic scenery. It seemed a dream to me; just color everywhere. Green valleys and turquoise skies; snow-capped mountains and rosy sunsets. For many miles we wound round and round the mountain side, through orange groves, laden with golden fruit, tucked away in the emerald green foliage, and fruit orchards abounding with spring blossoms. And then we came to the Pacific Ocean which stretched far out into the infinite, reflecting the rose-colored sky just at sunset. The dream of it all is still with me. I could hardly realize that a week before I had been flying through the pure white sparkling snow in the same state; and yet, here I was only a few hours away…. One sojourning in Reno should not miss a trip through California while in the neighborhood of that glorious state. San Francisco is only a day's journey by rail, and the trip is truly worth while.
Reno is not without its out-door winter sports; it has the advantage of being only thirty-six miles from Truckee, California. While flowers are blooming and birds singing their spring songs in Southern California, the Snow Queen reigns at Truckee in the mountains, six thousand feet above the sea. Here people from San Francisco and other large cities gather to indulge in winter sports, such as skiing, tobogganing and sleighing, and many professionals go there to display their art in skiing and skating; the Switzerland of the West, I would call it. It was all too fascinating and too beautiful: six feet of snow everywhere, and everything sparkling white in the sunshine.
[Illustration: AMID THE SNOW AT TRUCKEE, CALIFORNIA illustration shows a dogsled team]
Once I started out to see Donner Lake, which reposes between Summit, the highest point on this trip across the Great Divide, and Truckee. We were in a sleigh drawn by a team of huskies: real Alaskan dogs. I have ridden pretty much everything from a broomstick to a bronco, but this was my first experience with huskies. I thought it was going to be hard work for the dogs, but they frolicked about in the snow with their pink tongues out, showing all their teeth as though they were laughing in fiendish glee and enjoying every moment of it.
Truckee is only about thirty-three miles from Reno by automobile, and the distance by train is thirty-six miles, so there should be no excuse for not visiting this American Switzerland.
Another point of information which I discovered and think will interest you quite as much as it did me, was that most all the great moving picture companies go to Truckee to take their Alaskan scenes. And now whenever you see a beautiful arctic picture on the screen, you will realize that you are not looking at the frigid regions of Alaska, but at the glories of California.
The Snow Queen knows, however, that when she tires of her realm of snow, a really, truly fairy land awaits her only a few hours distant, where she may play Fairy Queen and wander through fields of golden poppies, filling her arms with spring blooms, in beautiful Southern California.
In Reno itself moonlight skating parties on the river and the
University pond are popular also. Dull in Reno? Absurd!
Nevada is necessarily a mining state. Apart from the $700,000,000 in gold and silver taken from the Comstock Lode, Nevada's mines have supplied the world with thousands of tons of other materials, such as lead, zinc, etc., and thus when one thinks of the industries in Nevada, it is quite natural to think of mining first. There it is in the air. Everywhere you are confronted with specimens of ore: in the offices of mining companies, in your lawyer's office, on the doctor's desk, on your friend's dressing table, next to the Bible in the minister's home. A chubby baby will gurgle and coo over a piece of this polished rock, and hold it in a little pink fist; old, white haired men will feebly finger a rough specimen streaked with green and amber. The spell of Nevada…..
Walk out over the desert or ride over the hills, and as far as you can see, the sides of the mountains are perforated with holes made by prospectors; thousands and thousands of them, every one representing a hope. A promoter will take a piece of this beautifully colored rock and explain to you about the percentage of gold or copper it contains, the cost of extracting it and the enormous profits to be made; a friend will show you a marvelous specimen and explain that he or she owns a half interest in the claim which is sure to turn out at least half a million….. Then you will perhaps think of Robert Service's "Spell of the Yukon" and you will understand the enthusiasm and spirit of optimism.