mysterious way which we cannot understand, since rain is practically
unknown in Nevada. There was the beautiful spotless desert lily; the
delicate desert violet, the fascinating yellow blossom of the pungent
native growth--the sagebrush--and many others.

[Illustration: OFF TO DONNER LAKE picture shows a dogsled team]

My next motor trip was from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara; there the
scenery compares with that of Nevada as an exquisite water color
compares to a grand old oil painting. We went spinning along over a
perfect road from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, and I felt that
America might well be proud of this wonderful state. Surely none other
possesses such a variety of climate, or such a variety of beauty.
Hardly do I dare attempt a description of all this magic scenery. It
seemed a dream to me; just color everywhere. Green valleys and
turquoise skies; snow-capped mountains and rosy sunsets. For many
miles we wound round and round the mountain side, through orange
groves, laden with golden fruit, tucked away in the emerald green
foliage, and fruit orchards abounding with spring blossoms. And then
we came to the Pacific Ocean which stretched far out into the
infinite, reflecting the rose-colored sky just at sunset. The dream of
it all is still with me. I could hardly realize that a week before I
had been flying through the pure white sparkling snow in the same
state; and yet, here I was only a few hours away.... One sojourning in
Reno should not miss a trip through California while in the
neighborhood of that glorious state. San Francisco is only a day's
journey by rail, and the trip is truly worth while.

Reno is not without its out-door winter sports; it has the advantage
of being only thirty-six miles from Truckee, California. While flowers