Motoring in the High Sierras 



211 



yons, of which Yosemite is the most beau- 

 tiful and most widely visited, are thought 

 to be the result of violent earth cata- 

 clysms and subsequent erosion by ice and 

 water. Sheer walls of granite thousands 

 of feet high, that have been smoothed and 

 polished by mighty rivers of ice, cannot 

 help but impress one with the tremendous 

 dynamic forces of nature. 



Continuing up through the foot-hills, 

 the grass beside the road gradually be- 

 comes greener and flowing streams replace 

 dry creek-beds. Tall, stately pines and 

 sequoias begin to appear, and an exuber- 

 ant vegetation supplants the dry, sparse 

 growth of the lower country. For a dis- 

 tance of five or six miles the road follows 

 along the top of a ridge fifteen hundred 

 feet above the North Fork of the Tuol- 

 umne River, finally climbing over the 

 divide and dropping down on the other 

 side to the South Fork of the Stanislaus. 

 This river is crossed at a small mountain 

 settlement named Strawberry, and from 

 this point there is a stiff climb to the top 

 of the next ridge; but the view from the 

 summit looking down two thousand feet 

 into a deep granite gorge, with a tumbling 

 stream at the bottom, well repays the 

 effort of ascent. There is now a restful 

 glide of three or four miles down to the 

 Middle Fork of the Stanislaus, which is 

 crossed at Brightman's Flat and whose 

 banks are closely followed to one of those 

 beautiful mountain garden spots known 

 in this case as Kennedy's Meadows. 



This point is six thousand two hundred 

 feet above sea-level and marks the begin- 

 ning of the last climb to the summit of the 

 pass. The grade rises very steeply and at 

 the end of the first mile the river has been 

 left almost a thousand feet below. The 

 steepest pitch is, by measurement, twenty- 

 seven per cent at a point called the "Q- 

 de-Porka." This place is a narrow defile 

 through the solid rock, a hundred feet in 

 length, forty feet deep, and just wide 

 enough to allow a machine to pass. With 

 an underpowered machine ' ' Q-de-Porka ' ' 

 would present serious difficulties. 



The scenery now becomes more rugged; 

 the large trees begin to disappear and are 

 replaced by gnarled and twisted specimens 

 entirely lacking in the symmetry and rich 

 foliage of their lower neighbors. The road 

 leads steadily upward, and as one gazes at 



the serrated outline of the peaks towering 

 above, it seems as though the road could 

 go no farther and that it must momen- 

 tarily come to an abrupt end against a 

 granite wall. Just as this is about to hap- 

 pen, however, a narrow canyon opens up 

 on one side and a steep rise half a mile in 

 length brings the summit into view. The 

 motorist is now above perpetual snow-line, 

 and if it is early in the season snow-drifts 

 may block the way. By the first or mid- 

 dle of July, however, the road has usually 

 been opened to ordinary travel by the 

 California State Highway Commission 

 and may be relied upon as being in pass- 

 able condition. A glorious run on high 

 gear through beautiful alpine meadows, 

 covered with succulent grass and spring 

 wild flowers, brings one to the foot of the 

 last ascent, wliich is rather abrupt but for- 

 tunately only a few hundred feet in length. 

 On all sides rugged granite peaks rise into 

 the impenetrable vault of hollow space 

 above, and the silence and desolation of 

 this inferno of rock and ice are broken only 

 by the hum of the motor. As the last rise 

 is surmounted at good speed on second 

 gear, both hand and foot brakes are sud- 

 denly applied and the startled passenger 

 in the tonneau is brought to his feet by the 

 yawning chasm in front. The summit has 

 been gained and the crest is so narrow that 

 the water from the overflow of the grum- 

 bling radiator trickles away to the east 

 while the rear wheels are still resting on 

 the western slope. The scene that falls 

 away under the traveller's feet is almost 

 terrifying in its aspect and gives one the 

 familiar sensation experienced in a rapidly 

 descending elevator. The words of that 

 genial and beloved mountaineer Clarence 

 King are recalled and describe the view 

 with the fidelity of the genius he possessed : 

 " East the whole range fell in sharp, hur- 

 rying abruptness to the desert, where, ten 

 thousand feet below, lay a vast expanse 

 of arid plain intersected by low parallel 

 ranges traced from north to south. Upon 

 the one side a thousand sculptures of 

 stone, hard, sharp, shattered by cold into 

 infiniteness of fractures and rift, springing 

 up, mutely severe, into the dark, austere 

 blue of heaven; scarred and marked, ex- 

 cept where snow and ice, spiked down by 

 ragged granite bolts, shields with its pale 

 armor these rough mountain shoulders, 



