Nor was the element of historic interest entirely lacking. Old Fort Ross and the names that still cling to a few places about the Russian River reminded us that at one time the Czar nearly added Northern California to his vast domains. We found footprints of the padres at San Rafael and Sonoma and no doubt they would have carried the chain on to the Columbia River had not the Mexicans interfered. We came upon reminders of the terrible privations suffered by the pioneers—for did we not look down on placid Donner Lake, which takes its name from one of the saddest of the endless tragedies that befell the emigrant trains? There are many relics, too, of the romantic days of ’49, and we came upon places where gold is still being mined, though by methods vastly different from those of the panhandlers of Bret Harte. We found many memories of Lewis and Clarke and of Marcus Whitman, who did so much to put Oregon under the Stars and Stripes, and more than once we crossed the trail of Fremont, the tireless Pathfinder.
But why anticipate farther, since I shall endeavor to describe in detail as I proceed with the story of our tour? Even were I to write nothing more, I hope I have proved my contention that it is well worth while to explore this new wonderland—but I trust that I shall find language as I progress to make even more apparent the savage grandeur of these hills, the weird loveliness of the lakes, the majesty of the virgin forests, and the glories of rugged coast and restless ocean.
A CORNER OF LAKE TAHOE
From painting by Thos. Moran
II
TO THE LAND OF SKY-BLUE WATER
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 way by train and when repairs to the car were made, we returned by the route over which we had come. The following year, in our own car, we again visited Tahoe, going from San Francisco by the way of Sacramento and Placerville and continuing our journey northward from the lake.
In each instance we passed the night at Sacramento, which is the best starting point for the day’s run to Tahoe, being about one hundred and twenty miles distant by either route. We were sure of every comfort and convenience here—there are a dozen hotels ranging from good-enough to first-class—and our repeated visits had given us more and more of a liking for Sacramento. It is a clean, beautiful city, practically a seaport, so deep and broad is its mighty tide-water river, which carries a yearly commerce, incoming and outgoing, of an aggregate value of more than fifty million dollars. The surrounding country is very fertile, with greatly varied agricultural and fruit-growing resources which form the basis of the city’s prosperity and assure its future. Its streets and private and public buildings have a truly metropolitan appearance which in the east would indicate a city of much more than fifty or sixty thousand population. The Capitol building, a white marble structure of purely classic lines, stands in a beautiful semi-tropic park of about forty acres. This is beautified with endless varieties of shrubs and trees, among them palms of many species, for the climate is such that orange groves, olives and almonds flourish quite as vigorously as in Southern California. The oranges ripen here from six weeks to two months earlier than in the south, giving the growers the advantage of early markets, and the quality of the fruit is equal to the best. Surrounding the city are endless orchards of peach, pear, prune, apricot, cherry, and many other varieties of fruit trees; and there are extensive vineyards of both wine and table grapes. Dairying, stock-raising, gardening, as well as other branches of farming are carried on—very profitably, if one may judge by appearances. Manufacturing is also done on a considerable scale in the city and vicinity and gold mining in the county is an industry producing about two millions annually. All of which would seem to indicate that Sacramento has not yet reached the zenith of its growth and prosperity. It is favorably situated as to railroads, having a service of three transcontinental lines since the Santa Fe has leased right of way over the Western Pacific. The new state highway enters the city from north and south and a direct route has been opened to San Francisco by the completion of the great Yolo Trestle, shortening the distance by wagon road—thirty miles less than via Stockton and Altamont, formerly the standard route. This great engineering feat bridges the Yolo basin, which is flooded during several months of the year, with a solid concrete causeway twenty-one feet wide and over three miles long, carried on re-enforced concrete piles rising twenty feet above ground. It was completed in about eighteen months and cost a little under four hundred thousand dollars. We ran over it on our last trip to Sacramento and it seemed like a fairy tale indeed to be bowling along twenty feet above the formerly impassable marsh as safely and smoothly as upon an asphalted city boulevard. In addition to the state highway, Sacramento County already has many miles of good road of her own construction, but she is planning still larger things in the immediate future. A highway bond issue of two million dollars was authorized late in 1916 by a majority of nearly four to one, emphatically proving the enlightenment of the citizens of the county on the question of improved roads. The proceeds of this issue will improve practically all the main highways and make Sacramento County one of the favorite touring grounds of the state.
Historically, the capital city is one of the most interesting towns in the state, since it is the oldest settlement of white men in the interior of California. It had a population of more than ten thousand in 1849, though doubtless the majority of the inhabitants were transient gold-seekers. It was the goal of the greater number of emigrants who came overland during the “gold fever” period and was a famous outfitting point for the prospective miners who rushed here because of the proximity of the gold fields. Ten years earlier a colony of Swiss emigrants, under the name of New Helvetia, was established on the present site of the city by Col. John H. Sutter. It soon became better known as Sutter’s Fort, on account of the solid blockhouse built by the founder, which still stands in good repair, now containing a museum of relics of pioneer days. Sutter employed John Marshall, whom he sent to Coloma, some fifty miles east of Sacramento, to build a mill on the South American river. Here Marshall picked up the famous nugget that threw the whole world into a ferment in the late forties and turned the tide of emigration to California.