base of Smith's, or Palomar Mountain. Then came the grade up the
mountain.

If you are not stout-hearted, and haven't a powerful machine, avoid this
beautiful drive. If you are not driving an air-cooled car, carry extra
water with you. You will need it before you reach the top. The road is a
narrow zigzag, making an ascent of 4000 feet in a distance of from ten
to twelve miles of switch-backing around the face of a steep rock-ribbed
mountain. To add to its difficulties, the turns are so short that a long
car is compelled to back up to negotiate them. About an hour and a
quarter is required to make the trip up the mountain. We did all of it
on low gear. When the top is finally reached, the view of the
surrounding country is simply beyond description.

Belated Spring.

The mountain oaks of great size and broad of bough, were not yet fully
in leaf. Pines and cedars, and to my astonishment, many large sycamores,
were mingled with the oaks. A gladsome crop of luscious grasses covered
the earth. Shrubs and plants were bursting into bloom. As we moved on we
saw several wild pigeons in graceful flight among the trees. After
traveling the backbone of the mountain for some distance we came to a
dimly marked trail, leading to the left. The "Major Domo" of our party
said that this road led to Doane's Valley, and that we must go down it.
It was a straight up and down road, with exceedingly abrupt pitches, in
places damp and slippery, and covered with fallen leaves. At the bottom
of the descent, which it would have been impossible to retrace, we came
to a small stream. Directly in the only place where we could have
crossed it a log stuck up, which rendered passage impossible. After a
deal of prodding and hauling, we dislodged it and safely made the ford.