Anthon L. Westgard.

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conventions were demanded even in this isolated and
remote region. The festive occasion was closed
with another long prayer.


A Mexican bedding

ENTERING on one occasion an all-Mexican
village in Arizona we were met by a wed-
ding procession. Preceded by two musicians,
one playing a guitar and one a violin, the white-
dressed bride, led by the hand of the groom, came
towards us with measured and stately strides. Fol-
lowing were the relatives of the happy pair, all with
beaming faces and chatting animatedly.

As we drove to one side to make room for the
procession the groom halted its march, came over to
our car and handed me a written invitation to
attend a dance with refreshments that evening at
the house of the bride's father. Presumably this
invitation was extended to all strangers encounted
during the progress of the procession. Surely a con-
vincing proof of the great hospitality of these unlet-
tered simpleminded folk, this extending a friendly
hand of welcome to whoever enter their gates.

A Mexican wedding at Springerville, Ariz. Yes, riglit

here in the United States, not in a remote corner of

some foreign country


The Yuma Mummy

A I A proof of the dryness of the desert air
I will relate an experience I encountered in
Yuma, even though the joke, somewhat
ghastly, was on myself.

One of the chief boosters for creating motor
tourist traffic to and through the town was the city
undertaker. The president of the local automobile
club escorted me over to the undertaking establish-
ment to introduce me, and finding no one in attend-
ance in the office left me there, with an apology, to
go in search of the proprietor. I sat down in a
chair, and after idly glancing through a magazine
which told all about coffins and shrouds, I looked
up and my eyes saw reflected in a mirror on the
opposite wall, a man standing in the corner of the
room behind my chair. And if a face could ever
portray the definition of a diabolical grin this man's
certainly did. To say that I was startled is putting
it mildly. I am afraid I arose from that chair with
a bound, surely with an alacrity frowned upon in
the best social circles where deliberateness is a dis-
tinguishing mark. Facing the man with the grin I
was astounded to note that it was a grin that refused
to come off, it was there for keeps.

Upon closer inspection this ghastly apparition
proved to be a mummified human with long hair
streaming down alongside his sunken face, and
gleaming white teeth glistening brightly. Heavy
eyebrows and some of the tousled hair hid its eye-
sockets. It was fully dressed and standing almost
straight in the corner of the room, leaning only




one wall. No wonder I was

slightly against

Upon the arrival of the undertaker I was told
this body had stood there in the corner of the room
for more than a year, and that it was found out on
the desert. The dry air prevented decay and merely
turned the deceased into a mummy. No one seemed
to know anything of the man who met this luckless
fate. It was many a day before I forgot this

* 2

On top of the White mountains plateau in Arizona. Some

of these small brooks, luhile shallow, has bottoms like

glue. Obtaining traction is most difficult


IN 1911 the Glidden Tour was run from New
York to Jacksonville in the month of October.
As I was to start on a route investigation trip
to California near the beginning of October, I did
the pathfinding for the Glidden Tour in the latter
part of August, arriving in Jacksonville the first
week in September.

Owing to pressure of time I travelled fairly fast
for a strictly pathfinding tour, especially when con-
sidering the fact that careful strip maps were made

The road between the capital of the Nation and the
capital of the Confederacy was certainly a tough prop-
osition for a motor car to negotiate up to 1919 when con-
ditions were somewhat improved




of the route as we went along, besides notes of hotel
accommodations for the big crowd to follow on the
Glidden Tour. This did not give us much time for
the many various entertainments usually attendant
upon a tour of this kind, especially where cities on
two parallel possible routes were bitterly and jeal-
ously contending for the honor of being chosen as a
noon or night stop for the big tour. Many unique
arguments were often brought forth in such cases.
I think that pathfinding as a whole, considering the
delicate task of choosing only one, and that the best
one, of several competitive optional routes without
causing hard feelings or worse, is the best possible
training for a man qualifying for the diplomatic

However, I could not altogether avoid entertain-
ments which were staged to show me honor or to
influence my judgment in the choice of routes as

Only a few years ago Florida "roads" icere something

long to be remembered by those isiho traveled over (or

through) them


Of course nobody expected to find real roads through

Florida swamps when we went pathfinding and it may be

truthfully said that we were not disappointed in our


the case might be. These occasions were usually
attended by more or less speech-making usually
more. I was frequently presented to the assemblage
in terms most extravagant as the greatest pathfinder
since Daniel Boone and General Fremont. At one
place I was called the "Daniel Boone of the Gaso-
line Age," at another "John the Baptist of the
Good Roads Gospel," or "The Great Pathfinder
of the Good Roads Era," and similar flattering

But it remained for the mayor of one of the
smaller Georgia towns to cap the climax. In the
center of the public square was the usual band stand,
and when our car arrived with all its occupants,
grimy from a combination of dust and perspiration,
I was escorted up the steps of the stand, around
which the majority of the citizens of the town were


assembled. After the mayor had made some rather
lengthy and not altogether apropos remarks to the
people he told them that they should feel especially
honored that auspicious day in having among them
such a man as myself. Beckoning me to come for-
ward he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, heard all
over the square : "Allow me to present to you, my
fellow citizens, the most notorious tourist of the
age." Just that. Of course the laugh was on me.

If I had not perfected my plans for another trans-
continental trip it would have been my province to
pilot the Glidden Tour over this route. As it was,
my place was taken by one of my co-workers, an
old and dear friend. Near the town where the
mayor referred to me as the notorious, when he
meant the notable tourist, the pilot car, running
along at high speed, was ditched and the man who
took my place as pilot was killed.

The Padre's Prophesy

WHEN on an inspection tour over the
Pacific Highway from Seattle to San Diego
we eventually approached Southern Cali-
fornia, it was late in the year and the Southland
beckoned us with promise of sunshine and good
roads. Having entered upon El Camino Real, the
old Kings Highway, which in early days was only a
trail connecting the twenty-two Franciscan Missions
of California and which now constitutes a link in
the Pacific Highway, it was of course inevitable that
we decided to pay a visit to all the old missions,
most of them now merely ruins, along the way. It
was also of course inevitable that the camera was
used freely to make photographs of the venerable
structures as a means to refresh our memories of
these visits in later years.

Having had the most pleasant experiences all
along the line and securing some splendid snap-
shots, we eventually arrived at the Santa Ynez mis-
sion near Los Olivos. A few years previously this
mission had lost its imposing tower, which had
tumbled down in a storm, owing to erosion of its
material of construction and general old age, so that
the mission bell had been mounted on an unsightly
scaffolding in the open place fronting the chapel
entrance. I proceeded at once to get busy with the
camera and, having taken all the photographs which
I desired, noticed a small placard fastened on the
front of the chapel door.

Upon approaching to read the placard I found to
my consternation that it was a polite request to



visitors not to make photographs of the mission be-
fore first procuring the permission of the padre. I
felt much mortified in having, though uninten-
tionally, ignored the inhibition, especially as I
noticed that the padre was watching our behavior
from the porch of the mission house, attached to the
chapel building. In order to make my excuses and
set myself right with the padre, I stepped up to
him and tendered apologies for my apparent dis-
regard of his printed request. With a gracious
smile he said it would be all right as he never knew
a photograph which had been taken, without first
securing the requested permission, to turn out any-
thing but a failure.

I assured him, however, that I knew my camera
and also knew that my film was fresh stock, so I
had no fear of the results, but would be happy to
be allowed the privilege of making a contribution to
the church box in partial atonement for my over-
sight. While thanking me for this, he thought that
the photographs hevertheless would turn out bad.
After a few moments pleasant chat we parted the
very best of friends.

When in the cours of a few days the trip was
finished, and I had secured photographs of every
one of the missions on the route, the films were
developed. Every exposure made was excellent
except those made at Santa Ynez. The film was
good, fresh stock, because others on the same roll
came out fine. Thus the padre's prophesy came
true, as the Santa Ynez photographs were so fogged
that it was barely possible to recognize the objects
intended to be depicted.

Pesky Pests

TO travelers beyond the fringe of civilization
it is well known that the further north one
reaches the bigger and more vicious the mos-
quitoes are and, it seems, also more plentiful.
While the damp regions of the tropic and sub-tropic
countries of course have their share of the pests it is
said that the mosquitoes of Alaska and the swampy-
wooded regions of Canada surpass the warmer cli-
mates in the number, the insistent rapaciousness and
venom of these insects which near the dusk of the
evening sweep the country in literally dense clouds
inflicting suffering and often death on animals and
such human beings as are not prepared with veils,
screens and special clothing to resist and render
futile their onslaughts.

However, the sloughs and coulees of our northern
prairie states, such as Minnesota, the Dakotas and
Montana, also furnish excellent breeding places
for a species of mosquito which I believe in genuine
devilishness and ingenuity, undiluted poison and
militant generalship prove worthy matches to their
Canadian and Alaskan cousins and to compare with
which, the well-known and much condemned New
Jersey variety are as tame household pets.

While traversing the North Dakota prairies in
search of the most likely location for a transconti-
nental motor route into the northwest on one occa-
sion we were approaching Bismarck, the state capi-
tal. We were still some twenty miles east of the
city and were pushing on to reach a good dinner
before dark when our trail lead us across a sort of



dike over several reed-grown swamps or sloughs.
When about half way across this dike, which was
probably a quarter of a mile long, our car skidded
off to one side and barely escaped plunging into the
ooze of the swamp.

As it was we were "stuck." While we were
busily endeavoring to get the car back on to the
crown of the dike it seemed to me that the sun sud-
denly went down and the dusk of evening at once
settled on the surrounding country. Looking up
from the manipulation of the jack handle I saw a
dense black cloud arise out of the slough and
slowly, as though wafted by a breeze, draw nearer
to us. I did not realize the nature of the thing till
untold millions of mosquitoes buzzed around us
and dived for an unprotected spot on our arms,
heads, faces and necks.

As it was absolutely essential to continue with
the work of getting the car going we simply had
to scrape the pests off by the handful whenever we
had a hand free that could be spared for the pur-
pose. When there was no more room for lodge-
ment on the exposed parts of our bodies the insects
would light on our clothing and proceed to bore
until they struck blood.

When after some twenty minutes tussle we
finally succeeded in getting the car under way again
the swarm bloodthirstily pursued us for a while,
but finally gave up the chase. By this time the poi-
son injected into our systems was beginning to have
serious effects. We suffered cruelly and scratched
ourselves until the blood flowed. On approaching
the city I, who seemed to suffer the least, possibly
on account of my being a tobacco smoker, had to



take the wheel from the driver, whose face had
become so swollen from the poison that his eyes
were fast becoming closed by their puffed condition.
They were entirely closed in fact when we drew
up in front of the hotel.

We were compelled to stay in the town for two
days under medical care before we had sufficiently
eradicated the poison from our systems to be able to
proceed. We surely acquired a wholesome respect
for the efficiency of Mr. Mosquito and in the future
were properly supplied with veils and heavy gloves
as at least a partial protection.

// was quite some task to ferry the Canadian River in

Oklahoma. In order to reach the ferry it was necessary

to cover three-fourths of the riverbed's width on your

own wheels across sandbars and shallow water

Good Fellows

WHILE surveying the Meridian Road from
Laredo on the Rio Grande, in Texas, to
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, which high-
way practically divides the United States in two
equal parts, some of the Texans accompanied me in
two cars in order to boost for the improvement of
the route and to extend a hearty welcome for a
winter visit into the Sunny South to the dwellers
of the more northerly states through which we

Of course our cavalcade was met by delegations
of enthusiasts which came to extend to us the hos-
pitality of whatever community we were approach-
ing along the entire route. These hearty welcomes
compensated in a large measure for the many trying
experiences which we had with rough trails, lack of
culverts, primitive ferries over considerable rivers,
furnace-like hot winds from parching corn and
wheat fields, dust and perspiration. However, it
must be admitted it sometimes added seriously to
our discomfort to travel for several miles through
a dusty country into a town when we were sand-
wiched between many escorting cars in front and
rear, thus compelling us to partake of a dust diet,
blow north or blow south.

It has been my good fortune during my many
years of pathfmding and investigation of routes
throughout the United States to meet many men in
public life. Among these I have had fifty-two gov-
erners of various states ride in my car during periods
extending from only an hour or so up to a two




When it comes to boosting for Good Roads the West

Texas communities easily take first prize. Here is a

little bunch of boosters come out to meet the pathfinder

and escort him into their town

weeks good-road's campaign, and with few excep-
tions I have found these state executives the best of
fellows, clean-minded good sports, as ready to lend
a hand at the shovel to get us out of a bad hole in
the road as to get up on the tonneau seat and make
a speech, and apparently as contented to roll up in
a blanket beside the campfire after a supper of camp
"vittles" as to retire to a sumptous suite of hotel
rooms after an elaborate banquet.

On this trip over the Meridian Road we arrived
at a state line somewhere near halfway of the
route and were met by the governor of the state,
accompanied by a large welcoming delegation in a
long string of automobiles. At the first town we
came to, they had prepared quite a feast for us in
the way of a barbecue lunch, where all the good
things of the season was served in great plentitude



to everyone present. The governor of course was
the object of special solicitude of a committee which
had been appointed to particularly look after his
comfort. I was seated alongside the governor and
was much amused at the worry displayed by this
committtee when the governor let all the good
things like roast pig, roast turkey and attendant fix-
ings pass by without helping himself. Finally an
immense platter heaped high with steaming golden
roasted ears of corn appeared and the governor took
six of these and piled them on his plate, then calmly
proceeded to eat with apparent relish.

Everybody watched him with great interest as
he busied himself with this repast, which ordinarily
would suffice for three men, and when in silence and
without interruption he had eaten the corn off the

A narroiu escape from sliding down the side of a moun-
tain. The Governor of the State of Colorado, at the
right front wheel, is assisting the pathfinder to keep the
car from going over. The windlass, a homemade con-
trivance, carried in the car, saved the day



six cobs he said that but for modesty's sake he felt
almost like emulating the Irishman, who after eat-
ing the corn off a cob passed it to the waiter with
the request that the chef "put some more beans on
this stick," to which remark one of those sitting near
enough to hear it suggested that evidently the com-
mittee had brought the governor to the wrong place,
they should have brought him to the livery stable
and not to the barbecue. This caused much merri-
ment and the governor acknowledged the laugh was
on him and confessed to an inordinate fondness for
roasted corn, a fondness which he only dared indulge
to the full when Mrs. Governor was not present to
look after his diet.

// is serious business to stop the momentum of the car
in the sucking quicksand beds of many Neiv Mexico
streams. This picture ivas taken in the Rio Puerco before
the construction of a highway bridge over the treacherous


WHILE we were taking the first truck across
New Mexico over what was later called
"The Trail to Sunset" but is now part of
the National Old Trails road, we arrived one even-
ing at a long low one-story building, lonesomely
located on the adobe plain between the Datil Moun-
tains and Rito Quemado in the Western part of
Socorro county. As we had had a battle with mud
on the plains all day, the crew was dog tired and
not in a mood for erecting tents and doing the work
attendant upon preparing camp for the night, cook-
ing food, washing dishes, making beds, etc. For
this reason the sight of this lonesome habitation was
very welcome.

We found that the house was not the dwelling
of a family but a sort of Mexican apartment house,
and that its name was Saladito, because it was
located near a small salty spring. Six families occu-
pied the structure. Their respective apartments,
which consisted of two rooms each, were not inter-
communicating which necessitated going outside in
order to enter the apartment of one of the neigh-
bors. I learned that the house, which by the way
was not at all unusual in some remote parts of
New Mexico, was built in this manner in order to
provide better protection against possible danger of
Indian attacks, which in not so far distant days
was ever to be reckoned with and even today was
used as a dwelling place by so many families be-
cause the nearness of fellow human beings was a
great comfort in such a remote region, especially




This desperate effort to spurt across a stream with quick-
sand bottom was only partially successful as shown by
the illustration below

as the men were away during the day attending
their flocks of Angora goats from which they made
a living.

We were fortunate enough to induce one of the
housewives, who was a childless widow, to take us
in and allow us the use of one of her two rooms
and also to cook our meals for us, using our pro-
visions in their preparation, as none of us had suc-
ceeded in acquiring the taste for Mexican cooking,
usually strongly seasoned with red pepper. While
our supper was being cooked I made a visit down
along the line of the other apartments and found
they contained thirty persons all told, none of whom
could speak or understand a word of English. As
I had a nodding acquaintance with Spanish, I was
able to put us on a friendly basis with the inhabi-
tants and found to my surprise that we occupied a
veritable Noah's Ark. That historic menagerie



scarcely contained more species of animals than

Aside from the thirty human beings, of whom
the larger number were children of varying ages, I
was able to enumerate two burros, eight dogs, five
cats, sixteen chickens, nine pigs, one Angora ram
and seven Angora kids, all occupying the rooms in
common and seemingly getting along amicably.

During the night it rained, and as New Mexico
adobe is some problem to negotiate when wet, even
with a light car, let alone a seven-ton truck heavily
loaded, I decided it was good policy to stay where
we were until the country dried up, and thus we
spent two days at Saladito. We had not a dull
moment. The people, their domestic life, their
homes and points of view on ordinary everyday
affairs, were as interesting to us as we were to
them. Besides, we had a well-earned rest, which

Motorists iv/io have had experience <with Neio Mexico

ivet abode soil, all agree that it is the stickiest stuff on



put our crew in better trim to tackle the hardships
ahead. As I knew the country from having trav-
ersed it the year before, I realized that these hard-
ships were greater than I dared divulge to the
members of the crew, knowing that they would
attack difficulties, that were not anticipated, with
greater cheerfulness than those about which they
had heard and thus allowed their imagination to
magnify. Of course there were no roads, merely
trails often too narrow for vehicular traffic.




o ro we* YORK


Price Canyon

I THINK I may justly claim the conception of
the Midland Trail, now called the Roosevelt
National Highway, as I had carefully studied
out its alignment as well as given it a name two
years before I undertook to trace it on the ground.
With the co-operation of the Denver Chamber of
Commerce we crossed the Rocky Mountains over
Berthoud Pass, 11,300 feet high. This pass had
never been crossed by an automobile before. Now
it is done even- day when free from snow. Eventu-
ally we arrived at Grand Junction, near the Colo-
rado-Utah line, and here I found a condition which
gave food for serious thought.

The trip from Grand Junction, a prosperous city
in the heart of a wonderful fruit belt, to Salt Lake
City, three hundred miles distant, had been at-
tempted on several occasions by motorists but had
never been accomplished, the rough country- and
absence of culverts or bridges across washes and
ravines compelling the shipment of the car for a
considerable distance in every case. Upon learning
this and realizing that I should probably also fail
to reach the objective, I arranged for a meeting of
the chamber of commerce. At this meeting I ex-
plained the importance to the city of being located
on a transcontinental trunk highway and especially
on one with so many scenic attractions as the Mid-
land Trail. I then called for volunteers to accom-
pany me to Salt Lake City in their car, suggesting
that three or four husky- fellows occupy each car to
enable us to surmount all obstacles by sheer physical



Our car VMS the fait to cross Berthvud Pass ever the
Rocky Mountains, vsest of Denver, The devotion, is
11306 feet and the summit of the pass comes very near
beinf the top of the vsorld, beina probably the loftiest
trunk line motor route in the universe

strength, and thus learn the real condition of the
proposed route and arrange for means to eliminate

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