Europe from a Motor Car

by Russell Richardson

For a distance of seventeen miles from Bourg St. Maurice to Mouthiers the road was in an appalling condition, any speed over ten miles an hour being at the risk of breaking the springs. A railroad was being constructed, and the heavy teams had raised havoc. We were creeping through this traffic, when the sudden halt of the wagon in front compelled us to stop. Two big teams, drawing stone, closed in on either side. The drivers, intent only on looking ahead, did not notice that their heavy wheels were in danger of smashing the car. We finally attracted their attention, but barely in time to avoid trouble. From Albertville our course was over the splendid Nationale, which runs from Paris to Italy.

It is always a pleasant experience to motor on these famous highways, to observe the governmental system of tree planting, and to study what trees have been found most suitable in certain regions to protect the road and the traveler. The ornamental horse chestnut and maple greeted us most often in the small towns of eastern and northern France. Long rows of plane trees formed one of the familiar and beautiful sights of Provençe. We often saw these trees fringing the fields to give shelter and protection from the blasts of the mistral. It was also interesting to notice how fruit trees have in many places replaced forest trees along the road. These national highways, so much improved by Napoleon, were for us like open books for the study of the French trees.

It has been well noted that "while the state has the right to plant along the national roads, at any distance it pleases from the adjoining property, it exercises this right with judicious moderation and leaves, as a rule, two meters—six and one-half feet—between the trees and the outside edge of the roadway.

"Tree planting is let in small contracts, sometimes as low as five thousand francs apiece. The object of this is to promote competition and to attract specialists, such as gardeners and nurserymen, who are hardly likely to have the means for undertaking large contracts.

"Government inspectors see that the contractor plants well-formed trees, free from disease and in every way first class.

"As the best planting season is short, a fine is imposed for every day's delay. When the contractor gets his pay, a certain sum is retained as a guarantee; and for two years he is responsible for the care of the trees and for the replacing of any that died or that proved defective. The sum held back until the final acceptance of his work, protects the government from danger of loss."[3]

There was no hurry about reaching Chambéry, our headquarters for the night. The distance of a few miles could easily be covered before dark, so we halted for a little while by the roadside. The car was in remarkably good condition after the tremendous strain of the day's ride. Dimly, in the distance, towered the snow-clad heights where we had been motoring only a short time before. By thus tarrying a while we enjoyed dazzling retrospect, present beauty, and alluring prospect.

A big Peugot tore by. These wide, smooth highways of crushed stone invite speed. There is a speed limit of eighteen miles in the open country, but it has long been a dead letter. The French system is to allow the motorist to choose his own pace, but to make him fully responsible for accidents. By thus heavily penalizing careless driving, the law works to develop the driver's discretion and does not impose farcical speed limits. This absence of burdensome regulations eliminates an endless amount of friction, and is one of many conditions in France which have contributed to the pleasure and comfort of foreign motorists.