artillery. In front appears the Royal Arches, Washington Column, North 

 Dome and Half Dome, each name significantly describing its character- 

 istics, as you proceed along the level floor of the valley, which is watered 

 by the clear river and clothed with the trees of the forest. But it is too 

 much for the human mind and heart to comprehend in so short a space. It 

 requires time to understand and enjoy it. Its beauty and grandeur grow 

 upon you. Those who have seen it twenty times want to see it again, and 

 each time find new delights and inspiration. 



There is another side, another view, of this superb panorama, and it 

 now awaits you. It is Yosemite in winter. Those who see it in its mantle 

 of snow and ice praise it for its enhanced beauty. The rocks and peaks 

 take on a fiercer aspect. The waterfalls plunging from their snow-covered 

 parapets assume a newer, brighter splendor, and the roar of their mighty 

 waters as they strike the icy depths below is almost the only sound that 

 breaks the stillness of the midwinter silence which hovers everywhere. 

 The trees of the forest are in a pensive mood, while the squirrel skips 

 about in search of the hidden nut, and the snow birds twitter from limb 

 to limb and bruin stalks unharming and unmolested. It is nature's vast 

 amphitheater, enclosed by towering walls, surmounted by lofty domes, 

 made musical by many waters, tinseled with snow and ice, surrounded 

 by winter but protected from it. It is the consummation of earthly beauty. 



THE SEASONS AT RIVERSIDE 



H. BI. MAY 

 Secretary Riverside Chamber of Commerce 



THE hackneyed word "tourist" has no place in Riverside's vocabulary 

 unless tied by a hyphen to the pleasing title "guest." As a tourist- 

 guest in Riverside the easterner enjoys a happy lot. No pains have 

 been spared to make the "City Beautiful" a ceaseless delight to him. 

 Magnolia Avenue, famous through a quarter-century, with its double 

 roadway and its triple rows of wondrous shade trees, blue gums, peppers, 

 and the fragrant magnolias, which give to it its name, runs south and 

 west through a district rich in entertainment. The ostrich farm, Chemawa 

 Park, with polo grounds and populous zoo, Sherman Institute, with its 

 broad acres of lawn and its imposing mission-style school halls, shops, 

 and dormitories, where Uncle Sam's Indian sons and daughters are taught 

 the white man's crafts and sciences, all front upon the "Avenue," and a 

 visit to any of these will fill a half-day to overflowing. 



Independent little Arlington, a well-appointed city in itself, though 

 wholly v/ithin the city limits of Riverside, forms the terminus of the 

 Magnolia Avenue trolley line. Stores, churches, schools of highest rank 

 proclaim the prosperity of its citizens. Seven miles further this avenue 

 stretches to Corona, the circle city, the center of a second orange district 

 of no mean rank. 



Victoria Avenue, threading the thousand-acre groves of the Arlington 

 Heights section, parallels Magnolia one mile nearer the eastern hills. If 

 the visitor chooses to turn westward, the whole width of the Santa Ana 

 Valley is his to explore. Alfalfa-raising, truck-growing, and orange culture 

 are the chosen pursuits of the happy farmers through whose lands the 

 highways run. At the west edge of the city stands Mount Rubidoux, 

 winding about the sides of which the Huntington Park driveway climbs 

 by an easy gradient to the very crest, thirteen hundred feet above the sea 

 and a full five hundred feet above the valley which lies at the moun- 

 tain's base. 



To the east of the city lie the foothill drives, to the north the main 

 roads to Colton and to Redlands, most alluring to the stranger who delights 

 to ride or drive. 



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