194405 desert magazine 1944 may

8/14/2019 194405 Desert Magazine 1944 May

1/40

fTT^

-%h:>*

MAY,1944


2/40

Gloria, my assistant, and aprettier M inute Maid younever saw, is helping m elube a car when in walksyoung Mike Collins, alldecked ou t in his Marineuniform and the saddestface you ever saw.

"Well," I say cheerfully,"how goes the old furlough?'

"Oh, I dunno," says Mike,

things are sort of differentaround here. The old town

isn't the same. Folks aren'tpleasant even if you buycigarettes from them."

"Take it easy," I soothe him,"we still run the samefriendly M inute Man S tation

on this corner, don't we?""Well, I dunno," he m um-bles, looking at Gloria,who looks pretty, evenworking on a car.

"Oh," I laugh, "we do havesome new h elp. But you still

get good treatment here."

"That's justyou" says Mike.

"No, indeed," I reply, "it's aMinute Man policy. Westill 5gure that customersare a:> important now asthey were before the war."

I move over to help Gloriapull a front wheel bearing.

"Right here," I continue,"is a good example."

"Who's that?" asks Mike.

"Not who" I correct him,"it this wheel bearing here."I hold the bearing up.

"You see, Mike," I tell him,

"every month we figure some

special way to he lp folkswith their cars. This m onthit's cleaning and repackingfront wheel bearings."

I hand the bearing toGloria, who walks off towardthe bearing cleaner.

"Mighty interesting," admitsMike, watching Gloria.

"Yes,"I agree, inspecting thewheel, "all winter long,people drive their carsthrough rain andstuff. Itisn't long before this dirtbegins to collect in the bear-ings and before you knowitbangoyou got to buya new set of bearings.

"So now that the w inter

rains are all over," I con-tinue, "we figure we're

doing a real pub lic serviceby warning fol ks..."

It seems mighty quiet all ofa sudden. I look around.Well, sir, believe it ornot,but Mike has slipped awayand is over talking to

Gloria. Imagine!Well, I feel pretty silly fora moment. Then I noticehow the trees on Elm S treetare up full and green andthere's a warm breeze.

Even a Minute Man cantell when May is here.You'll find that cou rtesy,friendliness a nd essential mo-toringservices are not rationedat Union Oil Minute ManStations. We're bu sy, yes, busy

as anyone else, but w e're. ..

IIIO*

T HE D E S E RT M A G A Z I N E


3/40

D E S E R T

(2lode-14pA llock Hun ter No rma n Clay,who tellsabeut his fellow collectors this month,isa i lerk in the army, stationed at CampCallan. He always has wanted to be anaui hor. He started that careerby major-ing in English at University of Nevadaami is continuing by taking a corres-pondence course in special article writ-in j . He describes his home town, wherehe was born January 18, 1909, as "thatgh morous, much maligned cityof Reno."

Will Minor, who tells in this issueab 'Ut his discovery of the fantastic littlecar yon he calls Goblin Gulch, says herd-in; sheep is one of the few ways he canm ke a living which enableshim to prowlan und mountains and desert studying

an I collecting butterflies, minerals,fos-sil and Indian arrowheads. Photography,es) ecially color photograp hy, is bothhoUby and part-time business. He says,"I have worn camerasfor so many yearsthi't I do not feel fully dressed withouton on." As a spare-time occupationheha w ritten nature and outdoor articlesat ntervals since1920. Except for a yearin the army, Will has been herding sheepon the Beard ranches for the past eightye;rs.

This month's cover photo, showingM 'unt San Jacinto, was taken at longrarge from Cathedral City, seven milesfrem Palm Springs, clusteredat the footof the 10,805-foot peak. In pre-ration

dai s this view of the snow-capped moun-tain and the flowers below werea chal-lenge to the motorist to speed out alongthi highway, armed withhis camera andco1 or film. Now that he is confined toro md-the-block travel, tur ning backtoth : i page in the flower album will bringwi 'h it not only a feeling of nostalgiabu a deeper senseof appreciation for thebe


4/40


5/40

woul 1 be known far and wide and attractvisitors from long distances. But here in alittle known, unimportant canyon in thevast western mountain desert region it re-main ; almost u nknow n, even to p eoplelivin ; but a few m iles away. It is onlyabout ten miles from Goblin gulch toFruil i, Colorado, an d some 25 miles toGran d Junction, but few of the people w holive I here even have heard of the place, andstill I ewer have seen it. There are no roadsin this part of the country, not even anyhors< trails. Just real estate, lots of realestat most of it standing on end. A fewcowj unchers, sheep herders and coyotetrap] ers whose work takes them into thelocal ty are about the only ones who knowit viell. John Beard's Devil's Canyonranci i about six miles away is as close as acar cm be driven. That leaves a round triphike of some 12 rough and rugged miles.Thai is too much for the average tourist,even if he could find the way.

Hunchb ack of Goblin Gulch. Freshlyfallen snow coating the strange shapes

adds to the weirdness of the scene.

Soon after discovering Goblin gulch Iwanted to take my brother to see the rockformations. We started from Fruita andhiked south in order to cross the Coloradoriver over the Fruita bridge. Then we pro-ceeded west along the river to the mouthof Pollock canyon, up through the canyon,out over Ute bench to the west end of

Black ridge then across country north andeast from there. That was a hike of around15 miles to start the day with and we stillhad not reached Goblin gulch.

Shortly after noon we reached the can-yon. Everything was just as I had remem-bered it. The narrow, shallow little gulchwinding down from Black ridge, thescraggy twisted pinons and Utah junipers,the colorful shales along the bottom andsides, the bare red clay hill to the left and,yes, the low grey-white sandstone cliffs

Ttio of the most remark able of thefantastic stone faces.

MA Y, 19 44


6/40

r

.

; ^

|

.a*

1 m

H B

*

: . :

, - ? " . !

along the way, but stone faces were con-spicuous only by their absence.

Th e time was early May. Th e springrains had been unusually generous and asa result many of the hills, gullies and can-yons, dry and bare most of the summer,were aflame with wild flowers. This can-yon region, ranging in elevation from4000 to 7000 feet, is a sort of botanicalborderland where flowers of plain anddesert meet and mingle with other speciesfrom the high Rockies. Scarlet paintbrushand scarlet gilia competed for space withbluebonnets and mountain bluebells. Bothyellow and white evening primrosesbloomed in small open spots. In littlesagebrush parks every foot of space be-tween the sage was carpeted with a pinkand lavender blanket of fairy mist. Greatpatches of purple lupine covered some ofthe open slopes so thickly that it was im-possible to walk through it without crush-ing some of it underfoot.

Four kinds of cactus were in bloom andhere and there a clump of yucca was in fullflower. T he flower stalk of some of thesewas fully four feet high and loaded withlarge, waxy, cream colored blossom s. Inthe shadow of a ledge a lone service berrybush stood covered with its miniaturewhite flowers. In addition to these wecounted more than a dozen species of tinyflowers in white, yellow, pink and pur-

Professor Bonehead refused to lookpleasant for his portrait.

which for a short distance form the sidesof the gulch.

"Th is is it," I remarked. "T he faces arein that white sandstone, and ProfessorBonehead himself is just around that nextbend ."

W ith cameras at the ready and expecta-tions high we advanced around the bendall set to photograph the professor and hisghostly associates. Then I stopped in sur-prise. The spot where the professor shouldbe standin g was empty! In bewilderment

I glanced about at the walls. They lookedjust as I recalled themexcept that theywere perfectly blank. N ot a single facecould we find.

"This beats me," I said, "I could havesworn that this was the place. Maybe weshould go farther up or down the gulch."

So we hiked a mile or so up to the headof the gulch at the foot of Black ridge andthen back down to where it dropped offinto the breaks at the head of West Pollock canyon. W e saw mu ch of interest

Gnomes' noses and Wall of Gargoylesin Goblin Gulch.



7/40

pie varieties that neither of us was bota-nist i nough to identify.

Spang butterflies were holding highcarni al among the flowers. Most plenti-ful of them was the pretty little white,black and green mossy wing that sciencehas s iddled with the jaw b reaking name ofEuchloe ausonides coloradensis.There also

were numerous other little butterflies withbig n unes. Among them we counted threespediS of the whites, two orange-tips andtwo lorms of the checker-spots. A littlebrown and green thelca flitted busily aboutthe j unipers. Gorgeous m ourning cloaksdash, d about, while overhead several lord-ly yellow and black papilios floated lazilyup ai>d down the gulch.

Hummingbirds dashed noisily about. Oc-casicially a green-coated one would zippast i air ears as if he suddenly had remem-bere I that he had important, immediatebusiiess elsewhere. A pair of huge blackrave: is flapped past, pausing long enoughto uiter a few pessimistic croaks as theyspied us plodding along the bottom ofthe kh

AI one place we came upon what ap-pear, d to be a convention of all the pinonjays n Mesa county. There were hundredsof them gathered together in a little clumpof pifions and junipers, all talking awayas busily as candidates at a political rallyand all shouting for dry crackers at thetop i if their voices. At least, that is whatit sounded like they were saying, thoughocca ionally one would elaborate his de-man Is to dry, dry, dry cracker crumbs!

Tlie jays were perched so thickly on onepinon that at a little distance the tree look-ed a: if it were covered with some sort ofodd blue fruit. I wanted a picture of this

blue clad pinon, but while still some dis-tance away the wary jays sighted us andceased their chattering. Then with a roarof wings the entire flock took to the air.For a few seconds the air was filled withbright blue wings beating against a stillmore brilliant blue sky.

A tiny spring trickled out from a crack

in the sandstone at the base of acliff. Thewater, crystal clear and invitingly cool inthe shadow of the rocks, looked tempting.The day was warm and we were thirsty butthere were telltale white stains on the rockalong the edge of the water.

"I am going to sample it even if it doeshave alkali in it," Clyde said.

"Better go easy," I advised. "Some ofthe water in this man's land is strongenough to run up hill."

He bent over a tiny pool, sipped amouthful of the water and slowly swallow-ed part of it. One swallow w as enough.

With a pained expression on his face hespat out the remainder of the mouthful."Alka Seltzer!" he gasped.That described it very well and if you

ever have tasted the much advertised rem-edy of that name you readily will under-stand why we did not drink our fill fromthat spring.

Scattered along much of the length ofthe gulch were fragments of petrifieddinosaur bone. The pieces ranged in sizefrom tiny fragments up to specimensweighing several pounds. The largestpiece we found would weigh around 30pounds and consisted of an attractive blue-grey agate. As far as I know it still is there,for we did not feel like packing it out onour backs, much as we would have likedto add it to our collection.

On a ridge between two small gulcheswe found a spot where Indians had madearrowheads. These old Indian workshops,or chipping grounds, are fairly commonthroughou t all this region. But quantitiesof flakes and a few broken points are aboutall one finds at these places. Seldom in-deed can you find a specimen worth keep-ing. However, we were unusually fortu-nate in finding two perfect arrowheads,one of them a beautiful little point oforange-red carnelian, doubtless from theCisco agate beds some 40 miles fartherwest. The other, and larger, point was ofglossy chocolate jasper, a gem stone nativeto this locality but far from plentiful.

By this time the fiery sun was doing abalancing act on the tip of one of the lilaccolored mountains on the western skylineand we reluctantly decided to abandon oursearch for stone faces.

"I always knew," my brother remarked,"that ghosts and goblins were supposed tobe able to appear and disappear at will.But I didn't know they could do it if theywere made of stone. Are you sure that youdidn't drink something stronger than al-kali water the day you thought you sawthose faces?" he demanded, eyeing me sus-piciously.

"If I did," I answered, "my camera hadsome of the same. And it is a sober, hardworking instrument not given to exaggera-tion and seeing things that ain't. But ifI didn't have those pictures I would beginto doubt the,whole thing,myself."

Wearily we climbed out of the gulch

and headed across country in the generaldirection of home.As we climbed down into another of the

numerous little gulches that criss-cross this

LOMfl

M . v Y , 1 9 4 4


8/40

region in all directions two big mule deerdoes, one of them with a long-legged spot-ted fawn in tow, bounced gracefully acrossa little open flat ahead of us. The sun hadnow set but it still was light enough forus to discover a nice deposit of goodquality crystallized aragonite on the exactspot where we had seen the deer. Many ofthe pieces were an ideal size for collecting,three to four inches long and an inch or soin diameter. Some of the best specimenslooked like someone had taken a handfulof coarse wooden toothpicks and crushedthem so tightly together that they had be-come one compact mass. W e loaded ourpockets with a few select specimens. But

thoughts of the long hike that remainedahead of us discouraged any inclinationsthat we m ight have had to take more speci-mens than we needed.

Less than a quarter of a m ile from wherewe found the aragonite we crossed anotherridge and stopped for a few moments notentirely certain that we hadn't been walk-ing in circles. For there ahead of us lay agulch that certainly looked like the onewe had left a short while before. The samepatches of pinons and junipers, the redclay hill to the left, and there was the shortstretch of white sandstone cliffs along thesides of the gu lch. And yes, you arerightthere were the faces in the sand-

2>edeS O L IDrawing

n ,iLb y

1 PLO Q U

FrankI E S

Adams

iAO F

* 9

A

P

R OText

S Pb y

E CDick

T O RA d a m s

lATU RE - T E L L y M E M A N VA / I T R A IL THROUGH wTCANT QI KNOW /H E -' D NOT BE-J~ O C0NF1DIN6

'LESS /HE- KNEW I 'D BE" DI/CRBET. . . .

time. The only trouble was that I hadn'tknown there were two almost identicalstone just where they had been all thelittle canyons in the vicinity and we hadspent most of our time searching thewrong twin.

The light now was growing too dim tobe of much use for p hotographic purposes.

But I located one viewpoint where, bylying on my back, I could get one of thestone faces to stand out above the skylineand shot it outlined against the light of thestill bright evening sky.

"Gosh, what a place to stage a spookyHalloween party!" Clyde said. "N ow thatwe have the pesky place located we cancome back sometime a n d explore itthoroughly by daylight. But just in caseyou have forgotten," he reminded me, "westill are ten little miles from home. An d,"he added as if in afterthought, "they areuncivilized miles tooall ups and downsand rocky, to boot."

As we started to plod our way over those"uncivilized" miles in the fast falling dark-ness a coyote wailed his twilight song fromthe rim of Goblin gulch. Fitting music in-deed for such a scene.

The low walls of Goblin gulch, fromwhich the faces and figures are eroded, arean exceptionally soft coarse-grained whitesandstone which weathers rapidly. Evena single year's time makes a noticeable dif-ference in some of the faces. Last winterProfessor Bonehead lost his head. Liter-ally. His huge massive head, weighingperhaps a thousand pounds, was balanced

on a thin, scrawny neck. The w inter windand frost at last proved too much for hisfragile neck. It crumbled away and downtumbled the professor, to lie in a shatteredheap at the bottom of the gulch.

Other fine faces remain but most ofthem are carved from the walls and notstanding alone as did the professor. ButMother Nature, never satisfied with herhandiwork, keeps her four busiest help-erssun, rain, frost and windon the jobremodeling the stone figures. Already thepedestal on which the professor stood isbeginning to take new shape. A long,thin, sharp-pointed nose is upthrust andthe suggestion of an eye is visible. Perhapsin a comparatively few years there will beanother remarkable stone face to take theprofessor's place.

From a geological standpoint this softwhite sandstone seems to have no businessbeing where it is. It is completely sur-rounded by the colorful clays and shalesof the Morrison formation the Jurassicage dinosaur beds. In several of the dozensof small gulches that run down from Blackridge to the Colorado river this same oddwhite sandstone is exposed, but in no otherplace is it eroded into the fantastic facesand forms of Goblin gulch.



9/40

fou might say Thunder andLii rhtning are responsible for itth> tt is, the curiosity of travelersin the Mojave desert when theyccne upon the stilt-like ruins of aro td bed east of Trona where an"e levated" has no right to be. Butw. len Thunder and Lightning,

Prospector Joe's two burros, dis-covered the healing qualities ofthe white dust near their camp-site they inadvertently startedthe Epsom salts mining industryover beyond Wingate pass, withthi s consequent building of theel ^vated mono rail which servedto haul the salts out of the desertmountains. Now only the skel-eti >n of the road bed remains, toevoke questions from those whopass along that way. A numberof these travelers came to Desert

Magazine with their questionsa id Cora Keagle has dug into, old files and journals to give

thorn the answers.

"Tale o f\ the

M ono JQ .aUBy CORA L. KEAGLE

""I HE hot September sun hung low/ over the jagged peaksand canyons

of the Slate range to the west. Itcast i coppery pink glow overthe dustydeseit spaces of Panamint valley. JoeWar 11, prospector, poetand singer of des-

ert songs,was migrating fromthe north tospend the winter in Death Valley. Thespan ows migh t waitfor the frost to yellowthe leaves before starting southbut Thun-der ,ind Lightning, Joe'stwo frisky youngburms, had no wings and Joe had to allowtor heir step-by-step progress.The lureof the desert and the search for its preciousmini rals led him over the vast spacesofCalilornia, Nevadaand Arizona but theMojave desert claimed mostof his time.

His desert songsand salty rimes werefavoi ite quotations among fellow pros-pect >rsand miners. He left bits of poetryor caustic comment alongthe trail for over50 years. His letters were addressedinrime , that were sometimes em barrassingto

i


10/40

Cars and locom otive operating on the mono railcarrying timber for th e extensionof the elevated road bed. Thos. H . Wright, founder and president of American

Magn esium company, is fifth from left, in black suit.

and Lightning ambled over to a whitishdeposit on the hill slope and rolled in thechalky dust to soothe their sweaty backs.After rolling, grunting and kicking totheir hearts' content they strugggled totheir feet and wandered back to the camp-fire, looking in the twilight like two burroghosts. They were white all over exceptwhere their dark eyes peered out from un-der fluffy white pompadours.

Joe remembered that on previous treksthe burros had gone to the same spot toroll, so with a prospector's curiosity hewalked over and took a sample of thewhite dust which he sent to an assayer inLos Angeles. It proved to be magnesiumsulphate or, in plain words, Epsom salts.The burros hadn't heard of the healingproperties of the spas at Epsom, England,

but they knew the white dust healedand

Remains of mono rail road bed east ofSearles lake, showing type of earth surfaover which it was co nstructed.

OL.W r n

10

cooled their sore backs. Joe told otherprospectors that the white patch wasnothing but plain Epsom salts, then withhis burros passed on down the steep east-ern slope of the pass.

Years passed by. Other prospectorsvisited the "Epsom-salts mine" but nothingwas done with it. There w ere no roads andno means of transportation. A UnitedStates government document, "Water Sup-ply Paper No. 578," written on the Mo-jave desert region, contains this statementabout Win gate pass: "W hen the writerwas in the valley (Wingate Valley) Octo-ber, 1917, and January, 1918, it was unin-habited except for a temporary camp ofminers exploring deposits of Epsom saltson the south side."

Thomas H. Wright, a Los Angelesflorist whose hobby was prospecting dur-ing his vacations, was exploring near Win-gate pass, so the story goes, when he ranout of water for his mule. He turned themule loose to find water and followed himto Hidden springs, southeast of the pass.On the return trip with the mule henoticed this white deposit and turned offthe trail to take samples. W hen he hadthem assayed upon his return to Los An-

TH E D E S E RT M A G A Z I N E


11/40

geles. they proved to be magnesium sul-phate He filed a claim on the deposit.

W.r ight took some business associatesinto his confidence. There were more tripsto thi desert. If the transportation prob-lem could be managed it looked as if thisgreat deposit could be manufacturedprofil ibly into bath salts. Conferenceswere held and plans laid. They formed theAmerican Magnesium company. It includ-ed < ngineers, chemists, mineralogists,bank< rs and lawyers. Wrig ht, the p ro-mote: . was chosen president. R. V. Leesonwas a consulting engineer w ith A . Avakianas chemical engineer. Capt. Hollenbeckwas i;iven the construction contract. L.Des (Granges was a construction engineeron the job.

Stock was sold and plans made for thedevelopment of the property. Some modeof tr; importation was the first necessity. Arailro id w ould have to be bu ilt from the

Tron,' railroad out through Layton canyonin thi Slate range, east across Wingate val-ley, through Wingate pass in the Panamintmoutitains to the deposit south of the pass,a tot;il distance of 29 miles.

After many meetings and discussionswith their engineers, the corporation de-cided because of the steep grades encount-ered m the Slate range, to experiment witha mono rail type of railroad. The presidentand -.ome of the directors were much in-teres ed in the mono rail experiment. Theyvisua lized it as a means of interurban trans-portaiion around Los Angeles and as ap-plicaUe to difficult hauling jobs.

W'ight applied for a patent on themom i rail equipment which he and the en-ginei r, R. V. Leeson, had designed. A

patent was issued June 23, 1923- The cor-poration decided to ask the AmericanTrona corporation to build a spur from itsrailroad across the difficult Searles lakebed to connect with the mono rail on itseastern shore. The American Trona cor-poration, after consulting with their main-tenance engineer, M. C. Cockshott, agreedto build a spur from Magnesium east across

the lake bed.Construction must have begun as soonas the patent was issued, for EngineeringNews, September 27, 1923, has this item:

"A magnesium sulphate deposit, ownedby the American Magnesium Companyand located near the Death Valley Desertin southern California, is to be tapped bya mono rail railroad twenty-eight miles

V. V. LeRoy, secretary of AmericanMagnesium company since1931.

**.

Piles of rock, about five m iles west of westerly approach to Wingate pass, are re-mains of service station on old stage road that ran between P anamint City and SanBernardino in latter part of last century. At left is Dix V an Dyke of Daggett.Stooping, right, is Henry Britt of Daggett. Standing figure is Mrs. Ca ryl K rouserof Barstow. Photo taken in1943 when the party visited remains of old m ono rail.

21 MILESTC RANDSQURG

M A Y , 19 4 4 11


12/40

long, extending over the Slate Range tothe Panamint Range. Of this line aboutsixteen miles has been completed and iscarrying construction trains which are de-livering materials for continuing the road.

"Although detailed costs are not avail-able, the type of construction selected,which was chosen because of the fact thatit would require very little grading and

would permit of sharp curves, is estimatedto cost about $7,000 per mile in rough,mountainous country and about $5,000 inthe desert with no rock work or sharpcurves involved.

"The construction consists of standard6" x 8" ties, 8 ft. lo ng, placed on 8 ft.centers and braced on either side. Theplumb posts carry a 6" x 8" stringer, w hichin turn supports the single 50 lb. steel rail.There are also two side rails of timber, car-ried by the braces, which act as guide rails,their vertical faces making contact withrollers on either side.

"The engine and cars are designed likepack saddles and are suspended on twowheels from the single rail, motorcyclefashion. Equilibrium is maintained by therollers on either side which contact withthe timber guide rails."

The first propelling power which wasused during part of the construction period,

STILL AVAILABLETHE SAME COOL COMFORT,THE SAME RUGGED WEAR

Your ST EE RH IDE Huarache* will beveil worth the ration stamp you mustnow send us, because they arc carefullyhandcrafted of real sole leather and havethe stamina of a shoe. Work, walk andplay in them, they can take it, and everypair you buy saves American shoeleather needed elsewhere. Send yourfoot outline and shoe size. We guaranteea fit. Please send ration stamp.

; ' Sizes for everyonemen,women, children. Children's $2.25

Please send pairs Huara chesFoot outlines enclosed, sizesN a m eAddres s

Ike QLD ||yJE*:iCO HOPSANTA FE.NEW MEXICO

was a battery driven motor. This failed todeliver enough power and was replaced bya Fordson m otored locomotive built on thesame general plan. At first the power wastransmitted by rigid rods but these weretwisted on the sharp curves and were soonreplaced by chain drives on both front andrear wheels. This Fordson engine was usedduring the latter part of the construction

and for some time afterward but manylocomotive difficulties were encountered.The braking system was another head-

ache on the steep grades. An eng ineer ina recent letter about the mono rail says, "Ihad one ride on the mono rail as far asWingate pass and was rather relieved toget back with a safe skin, keeping a watch-ful eye on the brak ing arrangements all th etime."

As the elevated road bed crept out acrossthe desert from the east side of Searles lakebed, timbers cut to the proper lengths toconform to the contour of the land were

carried on the cars and lashed to the side ofthe engine. There were 10 per cent gradesand 40 per cent curves so only five tons oftimber could be carried at a time. A cot-tage for the superintendent and a labora-tory were built at the mine site and the cor-poration began operations.

In the spring of 1924 Joe Ward, follow-ed bv Thunder and Lightning, now sedateold burros, climbed the western slope ofDeath Valley. The old prospector hadwandered over Arizona and Nevada thenspent the winter in the valley. As he look-ed back on the valley it never had seemedmore beautiful, with desert sunflowerscarpeting great patches and the sand re-flecting the blue of the sky. But there wasa threat of summer heat in the air and itwas time to migrate north.

As thev followed the trail around thebrow of the hill Joe paused in amazement.It was his first glimpse of the mono railwrithing through the pass like a monsterthousand-lepRed worm . At the old camp-site were buildings and a bustle of activity.Around the campfire that night Joe toldhow Thunder and Lightning first discov-ered the Epsom salts.

Early the next morning when Joe had

loaded the burros and started on his way,one of the workers picked up an old enve-lope on the trail addressed:

"This letter goes to Harvey West,A miner with gravy on his vest.He's living now, to escape the law,At Little Rock, in Arkansaw."

The American Magnesium companyhad hoped to haul long strings of cars inorder to work a refinery at full capacity.But the motors developed only enoughpower to pull three loaded cars. This diffi-culty led to a contract with A. W. Harri-son, of Los Angeles, an automotive engi-

neer, who planned a gas-electric train, con-sisting of an engine and a generator to

supply driving power for both the engineand the cars.

By the time the gas-electric train, aheavy affair, was completed the desert heathad splintered the timbers and loosenedthe bolts of the elevated road bed. Thewheels on the wooden guide rails hadworn them to shreds. The structure wouldnot carry the weight of the newly-as-

sembled train. And the old locomotivewould not furnish enough power to haulpaying loads.

Down at the Wilmington plant theyfound that the deposit was nearly 50 percent sand, debris and other salts, not thendesired. As the product was refined andmade into bath salts the debris piled uparound the plant. The city authoritiesstepped in and objected to the accumula-tion of waste inside the city limits.

There were legal troubles as well. Themineral claims in the Panamints had beenextended to cover 1440 acres. These claims

were a source of disputes, suits and countersuits. Slick promoters had obtained con-trol of much of the stock. Altho ugh morethan a million dollars had been invested,it became evident that the mine could notbe operated at a profit. The promoters anddirectors who had heavily invested them-selves, made every effort to salvage some-thing for the stockholders. But there weretoo many factors against them. Operationswere suspended early in 1928. The prop-erty was offered for bids April 28, 1928.There were no buyers. Mr. Wrig ht turnedhis interests over to the company.

The mono rail line was abandoned andthe timbers began to feed the campfires ofprospectors. Junk men carried off the steelrails and part of the stretch through Lay-ton canyon was carried away by a cloud-burst. The buildings at the mine becameheadquarters for the hunters of wild bur-ros who shot the burros, dried the car-casses and shipped them to fox farms allover the country. These burros were thedescendants of animals turned loose whenprospectors adopted automobiles as aquicker means of transportation.

A few of the directors have kept thetaxes paid in the hope that the governmentmight become interested in the magnesiumsulphate and in some deposits of alumi-num sulphate from which alum is made.V. V. LeRoy, of Los Angeles, who hasbeen secretary since 1931 says the SanBernardino county records show that thetaxes have been reduced from $3000 an-nually to $28 for the past few years.

In Layton canyon some of the uprighttimbers, which once supported the monorail, still are standing. Bolts and nuts scat-tered along the route are gathered as souve-nirs by trophy hunters. The roads have be-come almost impassable. If Joe Ward andThunder and Lightning could come back

to their old campsite now they could campfor weeks without being disturbed.

12 T HE D E S E RT M A G A Z I N E


13/40

Despite all the distractions which come with thespring season, the South family have taken time outto do some baske t mak ing. This month, Marsh alte] Is how they use desert tules in making the coiled-and-sewn bottle-necked baskets. Although he ad-vocates desert fibers as the ideal material for theseboskets, raffia is both satisfactory and pleasantlyprimitive in appearance.

By MARSHAL SOUTH

'""7 HE flower legions of Ghost Mountain stand firm/ against the sullen gods of storm. A nd the smiling-faced

little warriors of the new order, who brandish no lancesand launch no arrows, are winning out in every direction. Somehave been laid low in the last vengeful charges of a reluctantlyretre iting winter. But for every one that has fallen, with b ruisedand I rampled petals, ten thousand others have leaped up to takeiheii places in the ranks. Dow n the washes and up the foot-slopi s, along the ridges and across the sho ulders of the hillsman h the glowing blossoms of triumph.

Vi hite and yellow and scarlet and blu e; close-packed, confi-deni irresistibleonce again the annu al battle between deathand bitterness and life and beauty has been fought out on G hostMou ntain. And once againas it always will benew lifeleap' up triumphant. Desert springspringanywhere alwaysis something to deeply stir the heart. W hy then is it that manglooms himself with doubt? And persists in grubbing for hisassuiance of immortality only in musty books? It is writteneveivwhere. Across the earth and across the stars.

V ictoria has her new shoes. Thick , felted soles of cloth, afterthe Chinese pattern. A gay bit of heavy wovenstuff, in designsof red, yellow and blue, for the uppers. There were no shoestanips expended in supplying V ictoria's shoes. I doubt that awhole bushel basketful of stamps would procure a pair likethen i. They would undoubtedly, though, produce severe lec-ture;, from that class of shoe "experts" who assure us that if thehuni.in foot is not confined suitably and "supported" it willspre.id and the arches will break down.

But Ghost Mountain fortunately is far from the haunts of"ex] >erts." An d Victoria, as she parades up and down admiringher new footgear, knows n othing of their balderdash. Like theother dwellers at Yaquitepeewhere even sandals are wornonly occasionally, and life is lived almost entirely barefootedshe I las high arches that are tough as steel springs. "See my newshoi 5," she keeps saying. "D oan t you think they areverypretty?"

'You are getting werry wa in," Rudyard sniffed reprovingly."I a n weally sorry that Daddy fabwicated them for you. Yourchara cter is in danger of getting stucked-up by affluence. Thosemoci asins are only for going to town in, wemember."

'They're not mock-a-wins!" Victoria shrilled indignantly."They'resooes!" She appealed to Rider.

'They're moccasins," Rider asserted with finality. "An dwhat's wrong with moccasins? You're trying to give yourselfairs. Yo u're a little aristocrat."

V ictoria burst into tears and fled into the ho use."Rider called me a little whiskit-krat!" she sobbed. "I'm

m it

,Shoem aking at Yaquitepec is a family affair. Here Tanya

puts finishing touches on a p air of h igh, beadedmoccasins for Rudyard.

not a whiskit-krat! I'm not. I'mnot!" She flung herself intoTanya's arms, weeping wildly.

But later, the storm subsided, she sat in her chair mu nching arye-flour to rtilla thickly spread with desert honey. She put herhead on one side and wiggled her toes. "Anyway I like my newmocca-sooes," she said, giggling as she regarded her gay littlefeet. "Do ant you think I look awf'ypretty in them?"

Spring days are happy days on G host Mo untain. Storms stillcharge against us at intervals. But notwithstanding theseperiodic set-backs, each day seems brighter than the one beforeit. Soft footed and singing to itself the warm desert windwanders up the sunny washes and through the swaying juni-pers. The tiny yellow and white daisies nod to each other as theycarpet the gravelly earth between the clumps of budding mes-cals. The scarlet banners of the low growing mimulus wavewelcome to the droning bees.

"The snakes are out, children," w arns Tanya. "You must beon the watch." It is a warnin g often repeated. For when onelives bare-bodied and barefooted in the midst of a wilderness,sharp eyes and caution are a necessity, especially in spring andsummer. Rattlesnakes are as a rule peaceable. But they aretemperamental. Vigilance and sharp eyes always should be inthe make-up of hikers in snake territory. In this connection thecivilized boot and shoe have their definite drawbacks as well asvirtues. For while high boots or stout puttees afford protectionagainst a striking snake, on the other hand they encourage aheedless, blundering progress. The eyes of the hiker are re-lieved of the necessity of constantly watching w here h is foot w illbe set down. And , as Na ture always discards that which is notused, the attention of eye and mind thus dispensed with is lost.

And the keenness of the senses is thereby dulled . The eyes andthe attention of the Indian had, of necessity, to be everywhereat once. That is why oldtime Indians were masters of the wilder-

M A Y, 1 9 4 4 13


14/40

ness, attuned to m any of its mysteries. Th e eyes and thoughtsof civilized man are too often anywhere but on the thing thathe is doing.

We are good to our Ghost Mountain rattlesnakesas far aslies within our power. W e dislike to kill them ; we feel that wehave no right to. The earth is a realm of tooth and claw, of lifepreying upon life. But that does not alter the truth that onlythroug h mercy can man hope to climb. And it is also true thatthe wild creatures speedily recognize you as a friend or killer.They know too if you are an eater of meat. The old stories ofSaint Francis of Assisi and the beautiful tales that RudyardKipling wove concerning the bonds between man and his furredand feathered relatives, are not myths.

And so, unless they are quartered close to the house (a rattle-snake does not range far from his home spot) we leave ourrattlers strictly alone. W e have come upon them dozing con-tentedly in the shadows of boulders or in the cool of mountaincaves. And we have looked at them and they have looked at us.And we have parted in peace. There is something starkly grimabout rattlesnakes. You cannot meet them and look into theireyes in a spirit of frivolity. They know the ir power. They know

also how to mind their own business. A comm endable virtue.Our Ghost Mountain rattlesnakes give no warning rattles.

Nor do they, until molested, show fight. They just lie quietly,as though expecting to be let alone. It is only when they areconvinced that harm is coming to them that they whirr theirdanger signal and go into fighting pose. This isn't very helpful,of course, if they are blundered into. For a rattler can strikejust as surely from an uncoiled pose as from a coiled one. Butit indicates that they have been disturbed very little.

We have encountered rattlesnakes in other sectionssectionsmore accessible and man-haunted than thisand almost with-out exception they showed fight on sight. W hich would seemto demonstrate that a snake can lose confidence in the human

race. This is true not only of the snakes. The actions of allpersecuted animal life testify to the same fact. Hates and fearsare born a long way backfar longer than the m ere span of onelifetime. That is why past wrongs, either against animals orfellow humans, cannot be atoned for all at once.

Th e best known remedy for rattlesnake bite? Cut and suck!Enlarge each fang puncture with a small, fairly deep cut from avery sharp knife. Cut lengthwise of the limb so as not to runthe risk of severing important tendons. Keep up the suckingprocess, with as few rests as possible, for several hours. Eventhe venom of the tropical Bushmaster is said to be conquerableby this procedure. Learn the p roper course to take in case ofsnakebitefirst. Do n't wait until after being struck.

Due to winter fuel gathering and the demands of several newprojects which absorbed almost every instant of available time,there hasn't been leisure for much recreational handiwork atYaquitepec of late. However, w e recently finished a bottle-necked grass basket, made by the system of coiling and sewingthat is so useful for many materials, including pine needles.There is a fascination about basket making. Once you havestarted one you can't leave it alone. You can make a basket outof almost anything. Grass, willow splints, corn husks, mesquitetwigs, yucca leaves the materials are legion. Perhaps thegreatest charm of the work is that each different material hasa temperament all its own, which requires the application ofdifferent kinks and methods that are discoverable only bypatience and experiment.

You can, for instance, make beautiful baskets out of the green,round-stemmed swamp reeds, often called tules, which are so

abundant around desert soakages. They are satiny and pliantwhen growing, yet if you weave the basket from the tractable,easily coiled green reeds, you will find next day that the workwhich looked so handsome when you sewed the coils firmlyinto place, has shrunk amazingly. All your stitches are loose,and the whole affair is an impossible, wabbly wreck. And ifyou try drying it first, it will break in your hands like so manysticks of thin brittle glass.

Most basket materials have to be soaked in water. But thereis a trick by which you can work the tules without wetting. Andthe scheme is to roll up carefully the freshly gathered reeds intoneat symmetrical coils, of varying diameters that will approxi-mate the dimensions of the different stages of your plannedbasket. Hang the coils away. And in a few days, when theyare thoroughly dry, take them down and begin work on yourbasket, selecting a sufficient number of strands, to form thethickness of your basket coil, from the bundle that has the mostnearly correspon ding curvature. You will find tha t, dried in thecoiled form, they will accommodate themselves to quite a rangeof size changes before snapp ing. And you can cinch the coilstogether, as you sew round and round and build up your basket,with a stitch of good tight tension which you can feel assured

will not loosen. A desert fiber is the ideal material with whichto sew a desert basket. But raffia, sold so much for basketmaking, will do equally well. And raffia does have a satisfactoryprimitive look.

Hummingbirds whirring like living jewels about the tall,gently swaying dry yellow stalks of last year's mescals. Thewarm wind freshening a little as it draws steadily up from thedistance of haze-veiled mo untains. And faintly upon the breathof it, as I sit here among the rocks and junipers finishing this,there comes the voice of Rudyard, proclaiming after the mannerof the prophets of old : "Flee from the cities! Live in the desert!Eat noth ing civilized! Eat junipe r berries and other wildstuff!Flee from the cities!"

Stirred by this startling piece of oratory I climb upon a rockand stare. Away back, by the house, I can just see him. Hestands upon a boulder, his red and blue seldom-used mantledraped across his shoulders, his right arm upraised in an atti-tude suggestive of Elijah denouncing some sinful king.

"Flee from the cities!" he declaims, shaking his fist dra-matically. And , faintly, blended w ith his exhortation, comesthe breathless shouting of Victoria, his constant understudy andfervid convert:

"Fee fwom thee cities! Live in thee desert! Eat juntiperbewwies an' ower wildtuff! Fee from . . ."

Wind sings through the junipers and blots the shouting ofthe "prop hets." And I come back to my seat chuckling. Fiercelyfervent little sons and daughters of the desert are these hardylittle sun-sprites of Yaquitepec. And perhaps there is wisdomin their childish oratory.

JOY OF LIVING

Rise then, and strive, with spok enword,Or hammer, axe or pen.Thus only can you serve theLord,And help your jellowmen.You who are able, all, away!Your special labor needs pursuing,And of life's great abundance tak eThe joy of living is in DOIN G.

Tanya South



15/40

George and "Sis" Bradt didn'tbrlieve those grisly stories aboutthe desert shrike. He was but asri tall songster in gay feather suitof black, grey and white. Asthisy watched him perched in-oflensively on the t o p m o s tbi mch of the thornbush thicket,hs appeared the opposite of amurderer who impaled his vic-ti] L3 on thorns an d spikes . Butailer observation and examina-ti( n of other characteristics, theylearned how and why the shrikeis the desert's "butcher."

GEORGE McCLELLAN BRADTPhotos by the author

/ / SONGBIRD a butcher? Im-possible! A hawk or an owl,perhaps. But never a nine-inch

songbird." This was my mental reactionto the fantastic tales I heard about the

Whi'e-rumped shrike, the desert's notori-ous Butcher-bird.But the stories were true. The shrike,

even though related to the gentle song-birds is a butcher. A butcher in whosepresi nee birds and mice and insects seeno t x striking black and white songbird,bu t I he specter of Sudden Death.

Our own introduction to the curiousways of the paradoxical shrike took theforn- of a grisly surprise. While investi-gati: >g a dense thornb ush thicket, Sis andI discovered a small lizard neatly impaledupon a sharp mesquite thorn. The crea-

ture had met its gruesome end in a man-ner as mysterious as the desertitself. Herewas as baffling a case of m urder as anyreacor of detective stories could wish.

V' e combed the area for clues whichmight give us a hint as to the identity ofthe murderer or the nature of the motivewhi h prompted the deed. But not a cluedid we uncover. We did find, however,that the killer had not been content witha single murder. Here and there through-out ihe thicket were other cadavers. Allhad been killed in the same manner. Eachado acd a single thorn. The dozen or sovictins included beetles, crickets, cater-pillars, grasshoppers, small lizards, a dra-gon I ly and part of a large mo th.

Over his eyes he w ears a bandit's mask. His beak is the murderweapon capableof seizing, piercing and tearing the toughest flesh, feathers or skin.

At this point I suddenly rememberedthe tall tales I had heard about the desert'sfamed "Singing Butcher." The murdererwas, of course, none other thanLaniusludovicianus excubitorides,the White-rumped shrike!

Now that the name of the killer wasknown we had only to discover his where-abouts to complete the "case." We left thetangle of mesquite trees to sit in the thinshade of a nearby yucca.

Hardly had we removed the last sand-burr when we noticed a small bird perchedon the topmost branch of the thornbushthicket. It must have flown there whilewe were walking away. For a few momentswe did not comprehend the significanceof its sudden appearance. Then we real-ized that the innocent-looking little birdwas a shrikethe murderer revisiting thescene of the crime!

Through our glasses we stared inamazement at the fascinating creature.

W hat a fine looking fellow he was, his gorynature notwithstanding. He did look thepart of an innocuous songbird in his gayblack, grey and white feather suit. Butover his eyes he seemed to be wearing whatlooked like a bandit's mask.

What really gave him away, though,was his beak. What a beak! Here was themurder weapon. Once seen it was easy tounderstand how such a small bird couldcapture mice, lizards, insects and birds andimpale them upon thorns and fence wirebarbs. In proportion and design it was theideal butcher's tool. Strong, hard, armedwith a razor-like "tooth" or notch, it couldseize, pierce and tear with ease the tough-est flesh, feathers or skin.

In the midst of this long-range ap-praisal of the shrike's singular physiogno-my, the diminutive murderer suddenlyflew from his thorny perch to disappear

among the shaggy yuccas.We learned later that there was more to

M A Y , 19 4 4 15


16/40

the case than we had imagined. The fewfacts we had learned from our own obser-vations did not tell the whole story. In arather technical description of shrikes ingeneral we read that while all possess long,strong, hawk-like beaks, all possess theordinary songbird type of feet. Feet whichare extremely weak, good only for perch-ing, and quite useless for holding fast to

the feeblest quarry. This was a fact we hadfailed to note in the field, but one whichour long and intimate acquaintance withbirds of prey enabled us to appreciatefully.

The true raptors (hawks, owls, eagles)use their phenomenally strong feet to holdtheir prey while tearing it to pieces withsharp beaks. Were it not for these power-ful extremities they would starve, theirferocity, daring, rapid flight and great

. strength notwithstanding. The useful,homely vultures are birds of prey, but be-cause of their ineffectual feet are forced tofeed on carrion. But how, we asked our-

selves, have the shrikes, who certainly arenot carrion-eaters, solved this serious foodproblem?

The key to the mystery lies in the word"thorn." In lieu of strong feet and talonsthe shrike uses thorns and fence wire barbsto secure its victims while tearing themapart with its beak. But despite his violentmethods he does a surprising amount ofgood. Upon iniurious small rodents andinsects he wages incessant war. If once ina while a songbird does slip into the

shrike's menu one should not be too cen-sorious. Perhaps the shrike does not real-ize that man, sentimentalist when it comesto animals, butcher where his brothers areconcerned, has decreed that such and sucha creature is harmful, another beneficialto man!

By the time we had reached this pointin our study of the ways of the shrike bothSis and I were beginning to feel prettyguilty about having judged the little fel-low so harshly. As sentimental as the nextperson about all desert creatures we evencame to pity this unhappy hunter whomight longed to have been a dashinghawk or mighty eagle, but whose lofty as-pirations were doomed because of, figura-tively speaking, "flat feet."

George and Sis discovered a small lizard impaled upon a sharp mesquite thorn-the victim of the Butcherbird.

Although we had amassed quite a storeof information about the shrike a numberof questions remained unanswered. It wasto seek the answers to them that we re-turned to the shrike's private morgue toawait, behind a rude blind of army cotsand olive-drab blankets, the coming ofthe killer.

A distant flash of black and whiteamong the grey-green yuccas told us thatwe had not long to wait. Soon we saw thestriking little bird flying straight towardsus. On short rapid wings he skimmed thedry desert grasses to within a few feet ofthe thicket. Then in a sudden graceful arche shot to the top of a mesquite tree.After looking about in all directions tosatisfy himself that no danger lurked inthe form of a dreaded hawk the bird im-mediately proceeded to answer our remain-ing questions. The first thing he did wasto vindicate the apparently misguidedornithologists by breaking forth into song!Even though his lay was little more thanan astonishing medley of harsh raspingcries, cat-like mewings, shrill chirpings,and taunting raucous calls, it did testifyto his possession of vocal chords. Andwhile his efforts hardly could have beencalled a m elodious song, he did sing.

Finishing his slightly self-conscious solothe bird soon answered another of ourquestions. From the top of his thornyperch he caught sight of a grasshopper inthe sand below him. Without the slight-est warning he dived at the hopper, seizedit with his beak and carried it back to hisperch. Thinking that we were about to

witness an exhibition of the shrike's impal-ing technique we were disappointed to seehim in one gulp swallow his prey whole.But as this seemed insufficient to satisfyhis appetite he scanned the desert floor formore food. Soon his keen eyes caught sightof a slight movement on the yellow sandsand once again he disappeared from thetree to return immediately with anotherhopper, considerably larger than the first,in his cyrano-like beak.

This time he was unable to swallow hisvictim whole. For a few struggling mo-ments he held it in one foot and tried toeat it as a child would an ice cream cone.But every time he took a bite his strongbeak would pull the insect out of his grasp.Finally he seemed to become disgustedwith this lack of progress and violentlythrust the hopper onto a long sharp thorn.It was then an easy matter to tear it topieces.

This last performance left but one ques-tion unanswered: Why were so many vic-tims left to dry up uneaten on the pointedthorns? Were they caches against a rainyday, or manifestations of cruelty? Theshrike could not answer these. As a mat-ter of fact they never have been answeredsatisfactorily.



17/40

By MARY BEAL

/ / IKE the flourish of trumpets in a spirited parade, the/ Scarlet Buglers blazon forth their fiery tones. They'd

furnish ideal trumpets for a fairy band with their brightscarlt t flashing from long wands growing in several-stemmedleafy clump s. They are members of a large group of showyperennials belonging to the handsome Figwort family. Theirgene i it: name Pentstemon is from the Greek words meaning"fiv< stamens." The fifth stamen is an easy mark of identifica-tion, as the rest of the family have no more than 4 stamens. Thisextra one is imperfect, having no anther, the top part usuallyth id ?ned and frequently bearded with yellow hairs, which givesrise o the common name Beardtongue. Another common nameis Hummingbird's Dinner Horn.

IV! iny of th e species have been domesticated and hybridizedfor ^.irden ornam entals. Nearly all garden lovers have a Pent-sterron or two among their favorites. A large percentage of thePent.temons are Westerners and those of the desert are amongthe most attractive. There are far too many to mention in onesession so we'll feature the Scarlet Bugler type this month. Theirfavoied habitat is montane, from foothill to higher altitudes,theii brilliant color setting off gravelly slopes and canyon floorsand gleaming from coves among boulders.

The most: widespread of the desert species and second to nonein fLming splendor is

Pentstemon eatonii

N.imed for Professor Eaton, a Yale University botanist, it iscalled by some, Eaton Firecracker. Its rather coarse purplishstem' lift their panicles IV2 to over 3 feet high. Th e smoothdeep green leaves are ovate to linear-lanceolate, mostly disposedaloni the stems, all but the basal sessile or clasping, IV2 to 4inch s or more long, the upper ones the narrower, the largerlowei ones petioled. Term inating the upright stems, the nar-row panicle measures 6 to 12 inches, or even much longer asit ages. Th e tubular-funnelform corollas are brigh t scarlet,sligl:1 ly two-lipped, an inch or so long, the ovate, pointed calyxlobe:, white-margined, the sterile filament apexed by a tuft ofbristly hairs.

A ommon species, blooming in May and June over most ofits r;i age, bu t at the lower altitudes may show its gay color asearly .is March . It grows on gravelly and rocky mou ntain slopes,mesa . and canyons in northern and central Arizona, southernNevada and Utah, ranges of the eastern Mojave and northernColo1 ado deserts, especially abundant in southern Utah andequally at home in the Grand Canyon. Its altitude ranges from

200d to 7000 feet.Pentstemon centranthijolius

Si.ailar to the Eaton Firecracker, with 1 to several slenderleafy slems 1 to 3 feet high, the herbage hairless and frostedwith 1 bloom. The thick leaves are bluish-green, % to 2 incheslong, sessile or clasping, mostly on the stems. The narrowpanii les are composed of tubular flowers, the scarlet corollasan inch long, hardly two-lipped, the calyx lobes round-ovateand often red-tinged, the edges translucent. The sterile fila-meni is hairless. Rather common on gravelly and sandy hillsand , opes, canyon beds and cliffs along the western borders ofthe ( olorado and Mojave deserts from 600 to about 6000 feet.Less irequen t in other parts of the Mojave desert. Its counter-part in Arizona is listed asPentstemon subuiatus,the dis-tinguishing difference being more slender stems, usually lessthan ' feet high, narro wer leaves, and a very slender corolla tube

This Eaton Pentstemon ivas growing in boulder strewnGilroy canyon in the Providence mountains, eastern

Mojave desert. .Photo by the author.

tipped by a very narrow limb. It frequents stony hillsides, mesasand canyons of central Arizona at moderately high elevationsblooming from March to May. Also reported from the easternMojave desert.

Pentstemon clevelandii

A woody-based plant with several erect slender stems 1 to21/2 feet high, the herbage hairless, the leaves fleshy or leathery,ovate to oblong, 1 to 2V2 inches long, often slightly toothed, thelower ones petioled, the upper sessile or with bases united . Thenarrow panicle is rather densely flowered with tubular-funnel-form blossoms, the purplish-red corollas less than an inch long,the narrow throat somewhat distended on the lower side, thesquarish lobes of the limb spreading or reflexed, the dilated apex

of the sterile filament moderately hairy or very slightly so.Found along the western borders of the Colorado desert fromSanta Rosa mountains to Lower California, in canyons and onslopes from 1000 to 4500 feet, blooming in April and May. Inthe variety connatus the herbage is whitened with a bloom andthe bases of the upper leaves always are grown together, thestem piercing the united leaves. The sterile filament is heavilybearded. This flourishes in canyons on the west side of theColorado desert from Palm Springs south to Lower California.

Pentstemon parryi

Entrancingly beautiful is this Arizona Pentstemon. Its re-splendent color and grace have a magnetic charm, particularlynotable in the Gran d Canyon area. Under favorable conditionsthe plants attain a delightful luxuriance, each with many erect,purplish, generously-flowered stems, sometimes 4 feet tall,which is a foot or two above the average. The flowers are bright-

HAY, 19 4 4 17


18/40

cardinal or purplish -red, the tubular-funnelform corolla lessthan an inch long but amplified by a broad limb with 5 rounded ,widely-flaring lobes, giving a shapely delicacy to each lovelyblossom. The herbage is hairless and veiled with a bloom, thenarrow light-green leaves lanceolate. Scattered here and thereabout mountain slopes and canyons (1500 to 5000 feet eleva-tion) they rivet attention and enliven the spring landscape fromthe Grand Canyon south beyond the Mexican border.

Pentstemon utahensis

Also listed asPentstemon glabervar. utahensis. Sometimescalled Utah Firecracker. The herbage and calyxes are frosted aswith a fine white pow der. The leaves are chiefly basal, oblan-ceolate, and taper into a long petioled base, except for the fewsessile ones on the stem. From the small basal tuft rise severalstems 8 to 12 inches or more. The rich carmine corolla is glandu-lar inside and out, the tubular throat tipped by a spreading limbobscurely two-lippe d. Rather common on mesas and canyons(4000 to 6500 feet) in southern Utah, no rthern Arizona, south-ern Nevada, and the eastern Mojave desert, blooming fromMarcli to May.

Pentstemon barbatus

This fascinating species and its subspecies torreyi differ main-

ly as to hairsor no hairson stems and leaves. The generalcharacteristics are pale-green stems 2 feet or more tall; narrowbluish-green leaves with wavy margin s; vivid-scarlet tubular-funnelform corollas an inch and a quarter long, strongly two-lipped, the upper lip projecting, the lower one deeply-lobed andreflexed, also bearded in the species but not in torrey i; thestamens conspicuously long. A common montane species (4000to 10,000 feet) from Utah south through Arizona well downinto Mexico, arrestingly gorgeous along the Grand Canyon rimin summer, blooming from June to September.

Full informat ion an d l i te r-ature at your request

U T A H D E PA R T M E N Tof P U B L I C I T YAND INDUSTRIAL f

2 1 6 D O O L Y B U I L D I N G S A L T L A K E C I T Y1 , U T A H

T R U EO R F A L S E. . .Rock collectors and botanists, geology and history

students, those interested in prospecting or in-Indian lore,or just plain tourists, will be able to answer questions inthis month's quiz. And m aybe they will find the answerto some of their own questions. Answers on page 35.

1Lowest elevation in United States is foot of BrightAngel trail in depths of Grand Canyon. TrueFalse

2People who have studied Gila Monsters never havefound two alike in color pattern. True False

3Diamond, hardest precious gem, is the only one not toshow hardness variation. True False

4Height of Pueblo Indian civilization coincided withtime Coronado entered Southwest. Thereafter itquickly waned. True False

5Boulder Dam is located in Boulder Canyon. TrueFalse

6-Average burro will carry 150 pounds and cover 15miles a day regularly. True False

7Shells found in sands of Colorado desert of southeastCalifornia indicate this area once was covered by seawater. True False

8El Paso, Texas, is east of Albuquerque, New Mexico.True False

9-Butterfield Overland Mail route, established from St.Louis to San Francisco, 1858, crossed Colorado riverat Yuma, Arizona. True False ...

10Desert Lily has pure white blossom. True

False11Typical Tesuque Indian pottery is a soft brown paint-

ed in blue, deep orange and red. True False

12"Mexican Jade" is a soft variety of jade found inMexico. True False

13Desert turpentine broom,Thamnosma m ontana,is adistant relative of commercial turpentine source.True False

14-Sunset Crater, northern Arizona, is result of an erup-tion which took place about 885 A. D. TrueFalse

15The term "ore" is applied to any rock that contains

enough mineral to be mined profitably. TrueFalse

16-Desert Horned owl usually lives in abandoned build-ings. True False

17-Present Salton Sea, Colorado desert, is less than 40years old. True False

18Collared lizard 's diet is confined to insects. Tru eFalse

19Quartz always occurs in crystalline form. True-.False

20Coronado was first Spanish explorer to see GrandCanyon. True False



19/40

SPANISH BAYON ETBy CLYDE PARKER

San Diego, California

Slender guardianOf the heightWith sharp daggersAll bedightSpurred and bootedFor the fight.

Up the hillsideFrom the gladeWith your shelteredHafts to aidMarch long shafts ofLiving jade.

And dying humblesNot your prideSere, but uprightStill you strideBreasting evenTime's deep tide.

YUCCA TREEB y H A L L E E C U S H M A N H E N D E R S O N

Riverside, California

Only the bloom of the yucca tree,Eerily white,

\nd moonlight etching its petals,Like candlelight.

A breeze that plays in the yucca,A spirit-like coquette,

And the phantom moonlight dancingIn shadowy silhouette.

Secrets deep in the blossomsOf the yucca's petaled shell,

And the desert holds the magic,To swing the hidden bell.

a

S A N C T U MB y J O S E P H I N E G A M B L EChatsworth, California

On the Altar of the DesertGirt with Yucca's fragile sword,White and tall, in gleaming beautyStand the Candles of the Lord.

Here is Nature's Sanctuary,Arch and Transept, Font and Nave.Here all Life joins the Trisagion,Saint and sinner, Prince' and slave.

Here beneath the Dome of HeavenWho seeks humbly, finds rebirthIn the Temple of the Desert,In the healing touch of Earth.

When the Drums of War are silencedLet me sheathe a Freeman's swordWhere the Virgin Flame of SummerLights the Candles of the Lord.

THI GREEKS HA D A WO RD FOR IT

B y M U R R AY S K I N N E RLos Angeles, California

Upon the white-hot desert wastes the godsIn pity for the miles of barren sands,Scan ;red rare beauty with relenting hands,Anc drew in magic from the stubborn clodsA far white lily on its pale-blue stemTo left its clustered heads to greet the sunAftci the season of the rains has runIts course . . . and beauty touches glory's hem.

HeS| erocallisbeautiful habitantGra ing the wastelands of the golden West,You fragrance, spilling from their burnished

bowl,

Is w if ted, wavering, pulsing, hesitant,As :l your haunting perfume thus expressedThe essence of the desert's secret soul.

The Lord's Candle, Yucca photo by Roy Miller.

BelliBy MARGARET S. HOSMERLos Angeles, California

This tower of soundless silver bellsSlighter than the slight sea shellsIn a white land of moonlight dwells.

Pagodas carved in ivoryIngeniously and hollowlyAre not as fair as this pale tree.

While moonlight magic lights the land,Mysteriously these white trees standLike candles in the desert sand.

The slender yucca with its whiteAnd songless flower-bells full of lightIs queen of all the trees tonight.

CANDLES OF THE LORD

By OPA L H. CO RBETTLemoore, California

Velas de Dios, the Spanish callThe yucca blossoms tall.It seems to me 'tis holy groundWhere plain and hill are covered 'roundEach year until eternity

W ith a million candles lighted thereOn sandy wastes and hillsides bareIn honor of the Trinity.

DESERT STAR GARDENBy LAURAINE CORNELIA HUBBER

Los Angeles, CaliforniaI look up at the desert skyAnd see my mother standing byHer garden gate.

It seems that ev'ry shining starIs just a lovely desert flow'rFor me to see.

She loved the flowers here belowAnd some have gone up there to growFor her again.

Please, God, keep stars forever bright,That I may stand and see, at night,Her garden fair.

DESERT PERFUME

By INA SAMPLEPasadena, California

She walked into the perfume shop and said"I wish that you would make me up a scentA scenthow shall I sayNo, no, not now.I love red clover, swooning hyacinth,And the rich attar of the rose, but nowThis time, I want the sagebrush after rain

Or pungent, aromatic, dusty sageSo, when I'd dream, the scent, in many ways,Will conjure up gay and brief Nevada Days !"

M / V Y, 1 9 4 4 , 19


20/40

"Ij you are touring the West ajter the war and see a man and a wom an and a little

boy walking around the desert with their noses to the ground do n't be alarmed. Itprobably will be ]ean and To mmy and I busy at our favorite hobby."

Hock J tunt&i2ueeb

By NORMAN WILLIAM CLAY

Drawings by Bee Nicoll

BLACK fire opal weighing 17troy ounces and valued at aquarter of a million dollars was

found in the Virgin valley in the state ofNevada." When I read this item in thelocal newspaper years ago, I mentally ex-claimed "Oh" and filed it in my sub-con-scious mind. I knew people collected gemstones as a commercial proposition, but Inever dreamed that many people all overthe western states were collecting and cut-ting gem stones as a hobby.

I first came into contact with the ridersof this hobby horse on the desert aroundLas Vegas, Nev ada. A huge magnesiumplant was being erected to help our war ef-fort. Thousands of people were pouring

into the community. The inveterate hobby-ists had to have something to do and theyfound a new pursuit ready-made for them.

The rock hunter is a queer character ashe walks along the desert anxiously scruti-nizing every inch of groun d. Suddenly hewill pounce. Dow n on his knees he willgo, and with a short-handled miner's pickhe will start to dig. Up the steepest side ofa mountain he will climb and hang onwith a fingernail, while he picks at thehard rock with his free hand.

The first time I saw a rock hunter atwork, my curiosity got the better of me andI sauntered over to question him. Mycuriosity filled our living room with rocks.He explained that he was searching for

Here you have a complete ex-position of the rock hunterhishabitat, his characteristic loco-motion, his unique psychology,h i s speech , genera l appearanceand behav ior. When you aga inhave gas and are t ravel ing alonga deser t roadany deser t roadyou may spot one from a dis-

tance. He will be walking eithers lig ht ly o r a c ut el y s t o o p e dover with eyes on the ground.Suddenly he wil l make a swoop-ing or pounc ing motion, his h an ddart ing to t h e ground, thenstraighten up with a rock clutch-ed in his ha nd . Pe rha ps it will bethrown to t h e ground. If so,nothing will happen. If, however,it should be pocketed or placedin a sack slung over his shoulder,other humans suddenly wil l ap-pear and converg e on him. Hewill be swallowed up in the en-suin g frenzy of dig gin g. Sooneach will hold up a specimen. Toreassure themselves , they wil llick it with their tongues or spiton it and rub the surface withtheir fingersand look for theresult with a worried expressionor with a benign smile . . . Theseare some of the more obvioustraits of the rock hun ter. To gaina sympathet ic understanding ofthis First Tribe of the Desert, let aman who became a hope lessconvert to this fraternity tell youabout the inmost workings oftheir minds.

gem stones and was not hesitant in dis-playing specimens. He won a convert with-out any effort. My wife and I joined thenewly-organized Southern Nevada Min-eralogical society and became rabid col-lectors.

For our first trip we all met at the junc-tion of Highway 91 and 95. An assortedcrew of amateur gem collectors were as-sembled. There were men dressed in ap-proved Western attire, fancy wool frontier

pants, cowboy boots, beautifully embroid-ered soft shirts and five gallon hats. Otherswere dressed in jeans or any old clothesthey possessed. The women were dressedeither in the conventional play clothes,

20 THE DESERT M AG AZIN E


21/40

jeans, shorts, slacks, dresses or in Westernattire I eaturing frontier pants or split skirtsand I lie full complement of accessories.Some carried sacks slung over their shoul-ders and some of the women carried thosehuge purses that women adore. Therewere young men and old men, youngwomen and old women, and there werechildren. Our five-year-old son Tommy

was not with us on this first trip but wasto aci ompany us or? all succeeding tripsand himself become an enthusiast.

Diminutive, flaming-haired H a z e l"M id ey" Maguire was bustling aroundherd ing peop le into cars. Success finallycrowned her efforts and we proceeded tothe gvpsum caves northeast of the airportat La: Vegas.

Upon reaching our destination the sur-rounding desert came alive. People spewedfrom cars and started in every direction.The) all walked slightly stooped over witheyes on the ground . Suddenly one wouldbend over, his hand would dart to theground and he would straighten up witha rod : in his hand. If he then threw it tothe g'Ound nothing would happ en. But ifhe pocketed his find everyone who hadseen him would converge on him andswallow him up. Picks would flash in thesun ;uid soon everyone would have a speci-men Dainty appearing girls would holdtheii specimen to the rays of the sun andeithei lick it with their tongues or spit onit and rub the surface with their finger.W e I :arned that this moisture brough t outthe grain and color of the rock and gave ita m ii semblance to the appearance it

woul 1 take on when cut and polished.Jean, whose aversion to dirt amounted toan cl'session, soon was licking stones likea professional.

This day we scoured the earth up themountain to the entrance of the gypsumcaves. From the entrance the cave wentdown into the earth at a steep pitch andsuddenly widened into a huge vaultedchamber that appeared to have been plast-ered with sheets of sugar candy, or lami-nated ice. This material is very tough butsom of the experienced members hadbrought saws and we soon all had speci-men^ of this mineral.

AI ter a picnic lunch w e spent the rest ofthe day scouring the dry washes thatabound in the desert. Soon my pocketswen bulging with likely specimens and

"Wh en cut open they resemble thecandy Easter eggs that h ave window sin each end and wondrous shapes

around the inner walls!'

Jean had taken off her sweater and tiedup the neck and looped the sleeves aroundmy neck to make a sack which we filled be-fore the day was ended. W e found fossilshells and fossil fish, which are not truespecimens for the Purists who collectnothing but semi-precious gem stones, butsoul-satisfying to collectors such as we. W efound chalcedony which looks like boiledsugar that has been dropped into waterand is either white or delicately tinted inlavenders and pinks. We found grass-green chert which resembles deep jade.We came home loaded with rocks whichwe promptly dumped on the livingroomfloor and scanned under the light from ourbridge lamps. This rock was the nucleusof a collection that was to travel hundredsof miles with us and to take up ever in-creasing space in our home. We werestricken with the fever and were now fullfledged rock hunters.

Eager to share our new found knowl-edge we went across the street and invitedour friends the Baehrs over. Harry Baehr,a bearded giant six feet tall and weighing210 pounds, and his wife Barbara, six feettall and weighing 120 pounds, were prop-erly impressed. Both were natural collect-ors anyway, having in two months inVegas collected a collie with the impres-sive name of Michael du ShawbreeIII, abob-tail kitten named Frisky, Perky thePersian cat and a land turtle who wouldn'tanswer to the name of Terry Pin. Harryand Barb succumbed to the spell of thehobby immediately and the four of us soonwere layingplans for a trip the followingSunday.

We left Vegas early in the morning inHarry's 1932 Ford sedan, Harry and Barbin front and Jean and I in back. W e ex-plored the area around Goodsprings untilexhausted, returning late Sunday evening,all four of us in the front seat and the backof the car bulging with specimens. Speci-mens of lead, zinc, copper and fossil shellswe acquired on this trip still occupy spacein our bookshelvesbookshelves that longsince have been stripped of books andloaded with our treasured rocks.

As our knowledge grew we were amaz-ed to find that people all over the Westengaged in this pursuit. W e soon becameacquainted with many of them. W e turnedto maps printed to guide the avid rockhunter. One such map drew Jean and meover 200 miles, in the days of vanishingtires, in search of the amethyst crystals nearRhyolite, Nevada.

Since our original plunge into the mys-teries of rock hunting we have covered

much of Nevada and a great deal of the sis-ter states of Utah, Arizona and California.Our collection has grown and our interestshave wider horizons. We have found gar-nets in Wadsworth, Nevada, and havebought garnets from Alaska and they bothshare space in our bookcase. W e havefound opals in the Virgin valley of Ne-vada that shine and gleam in their manycolored irridescence. Th e news item readmany years ago was responsible for thistrip. Besides some lovely opal specimens,we found opalized petrified wood that de-fies description.

We have dug tourmaline in San Diegocounty, California, and the beautiful deepblue chrysocolla from Beatty, Nevada.We have specimens of moss agate thatpolish beautifully. From Mason, Nevada,we have collected some perfect specimensof petrified wood. From Arizona webrought back lovely specimens of quartzcrystals. Silver specimens from Vir giniaCity and wire gold from Grass Valley addinterest to our collection. A treasured pieceof Bullfrog ore from Rhyolite, Nevada, isone of our proudest possessions. Thislovely stone was so beautiful when polish-ed that it was seldom mined for the high

grade gold it contained but was sent toTiffany's, N ew Y ork, to be cut and polish-ed for gem stones.. And along with thesemiprecious stones and the high grade ore

M / Y , 19 4 4 21


22/40

samples we have hundredsof stones thatare unusual in shape or just pretty.

The desert geodeis a constant sourceofwonder to the rock hunter. It usually isegg-shaped or round and will be passedup by the novice rock hunter. But the"aged in the rock" speciesof rock hunterwill detect manyof them. Whencut openthey resemble the candy Easter eggs that

have windowsin each end and wondrousshapes aroundthe inner walls. The geodsmay be hollow inside withall of the sur-face of the inner walls covered with crys-tals or may have a solid crystalline geomet-ric shape that appears whenthe noduleis halved.

For months Jeanand I had searched invain for a geode specimen. One week-endwe went on a combination rock huntingand fishing trip withMac and Min Mc-Henry and their two children and our sonTommy. On the return trip Mac spieddesert foliage that would forma goodbackground for a snap shot. Mac stepped

out of the car and picked up a perfect speci-men of a geode. Like bloodhounds witha warm scentwe covered the area. Fortunesmiled on us and Jean and I both founda geode. Eventuallywe rememberedthepicture we had stopped to take.

The war has interrupted an interestinghobby but I managed to get in a spell ofrock hunting while going through deser:maneuversas part of my basic trainingin

MILLIONS BUYING BONDSFOR POSTWAR TRAVEL TO DESERT

More than 24,000,000 Americans rightnow are actively planning theirpostwar trips, accordingto results of nationwide survey just completedby All-Year Club of California. Don Thomas, managing directorof theclub, said of this number, 15,600,000ar e buying bonds or add ing to theirsavings accounts for their trips. Twenty-six million more,he said, ha dnot yet decided abouta trip.

The desert will receive increasing attention from tourist organizations,t ransporta t ion companiesand hotel and resort men, a s well a s from thepublic at large. One of the most interesting postwar possibilities consider-ed now by California agencies is deve lopment of the desert-to-snowtramway projectat Palm Springs, fromthe resort to San Jacinto's peak.

Restoration of California's travel industry, Thomas said, will createsome two million added customersa y e a r for Southern California's post-war projects,who on returning home will introducethe products into theircommunities, thereby increasingthe market nat ional ly. C oachel laVal-ley's date industrywa s cited as one of the industries which willbe a m o n gthose benefited.

the army. My wife still spends manyof

her Sundays roamingthe hills aroundCar-son City in search of new specimens. Wealready have laidour plans for after-the-war. We are going to get a station wagonand take to the desert and mountains everychance we get. We are going into Mexicoand scour its surface. If we hear of a newplace where we can find gem stones,wewill be theretoo.

Our purpose isn't exactlythe same as

the oldtime prospectorswho discovered

the Comstock, Goldfield, TonopahandRhyolite,but we would havehad much incommon. The present day rock hunter isjust a prospector in a zoot suit. If you aretouring the West after the war and see aman and a woman and a little boy walkingaround the desert with their nosesto theground don'tbe alarmed. It probably willbe Jean and Tommy and I busy at ourfavorite hobby.

A c h i e v e m e n t . . .On October 15, 1943, purchase of the electricalproperties of the California Electric Power Com-pany in Imperial Valley and the area inCoachella Valley destined to be served bythe Ail-American Canal was completed, andImperial Valley Irrigation District became thesole distributing agency for electrical energyin these areas.

Thus was achieved a goal toward which thepeople of Imperial and Coachella Valleys haveunited their efforts for a quarter of a century.Full development of the power resources on thegreat All-American Canal now seems assuredand both water and power will be put to thecommon usage of developing these two fertilereclaimed desert valleys.

SHARING THE BENEFITS OF WATER AND THE PROFITS OF POWER, IMPE-RIAL AND COACHELLA VALLEYSARE IN TRUTH GOOD NEIGHBORS LINK-

ED BY BONDSOF MUTUAL INTERESTSAND NECESSITIES.

Im p e r ia l I rr ig a tio nD i s t r i c t ,

( h e Y t ta rOwnP o w e r - M a k ei tP o y S i ^ A J J A m e ric an to n a l

22 THE DESERT MAGAZINE


23/40

Warn D. Rishel, wh o has been honored for his lifelong work of pioneering goodroads for Utah. Bill Shipler photo.

tai&iajet

Sal t7 y EARS have mellowed Big Bill

lyf Rishel, but time was when he con-/ sidered himself the toughest hunk

of bone and muscle west of the Mississippirivet A man had to be tough to becomechampion cross-country bicycle rider ofCheyenne, Wyoming, back in the 1880's,when in order to qualify he must ride 100miles in one day over roads which wereonly i pair of ruts in the sagebrush. Thattoughness saved his life a few years laterwhe: | lie found himself on a bicycle in themidiI le of the Great Salt desert.

It all started as a publicity stun t. Be-tween the end of the horse-and-buggy daysand .'dvent of the automobile, bicycle clubswere organized all over the country. Oneof the first in the west was the CheyenneBicyi Ie club, started in 1882, of w hichWill'am D. Rishel became president.

W hen a relay race was run between W ash-ington, D. C, and Denver in 1894 BigBill was given charge of the section be-tween Cheyenne and Julesburg. The pur-pose of this was to demonstrate the feasi-bility of using bicyclists as dispatch ridersin the army.

The success of this experiment inducedWilliam Randolph Hearst, owner of theSan Francisco Examiner and New YorkJournal, to promote a transcontinentalbicycle relay race between San Franciscoand New York, in cooperation withStearns & Co., manufacturers of the "Yel-low Fellow" bicycle, and General NelsonA. Miles, commander of the U. S. Army.

The idea looked good on paper, but aserious difficulty soon was encountered.After construction of the railroad in 1869,pioneer trails had been abandoned and

Young Bill Rishel and his com-panion got on their bicycles andstarted out across the salt desertsouth of Great Salt Lake. Old-t imers warned them against i tbut Bill determined to attempt acutoff in one lap of the transcon-tinental bicycle relay- rac e. Sixtymiles of level salt lake bottomstretched before them. It was

smoother than pavem ent . Theyspun along for hours with little ef-fort. But the distant L ake sidemou ntains seem ed to re t reat ast he y a d v a n c ed . T h e y b e c a m e"lost" in a great mir age . Sudd en-ly the deceptive salt crust brokeand they struck the gummiest,stickiest mud they ever had seen.T h ey c a rr ie d t h e i r b i k es a n dwaded through the s l imystuff.Then they cam e to loose sa nd.A g a in t h e y h a d to ca r ry th ebikes . The sun was burning.T h ei r c a n t ee n s w e r e e m p t y.Somewhere in the elusive rangeah ea d w as a l it tle spr ing buttheir progress toward it was likeplod ding alon g on a treadm ill . . .Tha t w as B ig Bill's first seriou sencou nter with the desert. Sincethat summer day in 1896 ribbonsof paved roads smooth the wayfor transcontinental motor travelover once t reacherous sand andmars h. And alw ays , Big Bill hasbeen foremost among trail break-ers for those scenic roadsto theGra nd C anyon , to the wo nders ofUtah 's natural showplaces .

By CHARLES KELLY

there no longer was a transcontinentalwagon road. Even its former location hadbeen forgotten. Before the run could starta route had to be laid out. The m an chosenfor that job was Big Bill Rishel, who pio-neered a bicycle trail from Kearney, Ne-braska, to Truckee, Californiaa routewhich later became the first transconti-nental automobile highway.

With a blare of brass bands the firstrider left San Francisco on a summer dayin 1896 . In due time relay riders reachedTruckee, California, where Rishel was onhand to start them across the deserts of Ne-vada. Since there were no roads Bill routedhis riders along the railroad right-of-way,where they either rode the shoulders of thegrade or bumped over the ties, whileRishel rode up and down the line on trainspreparing relays and checking his riders.Sometimes they got into difficulties andBill had to take over. On one such oc-casion, trying to make up lost time, he wasriding at night when he ran into a trestleand wrecked his bicycle. He had to carryit on his back to the next station.

M j \ Y , 19 4 4 23


24/40

Bill Rishel. Wallace Bransford and Doc Inglesby pioneering a road to north rim ofGrand C anyon, about1906. Photo from Bransford collection.

After many difficulties the riders finallyreached the little station of Terrace, Utah,on the western edge of the Great Salt des-ert. Here the railroad made a big detouraround the desert and north of Great Saltlake. A direct and much shorter routewould have been straight across the desertand south of the lake to Salt Lake City.Bill hadn't laid it out that way, but the racewas already far behind schedule. Standingthere on the "shore" of the salt desert hewondered if it would be possible to ride

across it on a bicycle and thus save manymiles and precious hours of time. It stretch-ed away to the east almost as far as his eyecould see60 miles of level, smooth, saltencrusted old lake bottom. He m ade atrial spin on its hard surface. It wassmoother than pavement. He was thrilledby its possibilities and the relief frombumping over railroad ties.

Hunting up an old-timer at Terrace heasked about the desert. Was it smooth likethat all the way across? Was there any

water out there? W hat would happen ifhe broke down? The old-timer told himthere were 60 miles of level desert and 40miles of rolling country covered with shad-scale between Terrace and Grantsville,nearest town. In that 100 miles there wasone small spring in a rocky ridge, if hewas lucky enough to find it. It would besuicide to attempt such a crossing onbicycles.

Bill shaded his eyes against the whiteglare and looked off toward the Lakesidemountains, barely visible on the horizon.Those miles of smooth going were toogreat a temptation. He decided to take achance. Unwillin g to ask another to takesuch a risk he grabbed a bicycle and pre-pared to ride ithimself. At the last minuteC. A. Emise, one of the relay riders, volun-teered to accompany him. Their equip-ment consisted of two canteens of waterand two sandwiches each.

During daylight hours the desert washot, so they rested until 2 a. m., beforestarting. A bright moon illuminated thedesert's white surface and its hard crustof salt made the going easy. They spunalong for hours with little effort. But thedistant mountains seemed to retreat as theyadvanced.

At daylight the two men still were goingstrong. Stopp ing to eat a sandwich theyemptied one of the canteens. Wh en thesun rose they found themselves entirelysurrounded by a mirage, which gave themthe feeling of being on a small island inthe middle of the ocean. Then, as theywere spinning along, Bill suddenly took anose dive. His bicycle had struck a patchof soft mud and stopped dead. Mud ona desert? It seemed impossible. But there

Through miles of sand dunes like these, on the eastern edge of Great Salt Desert, Bill Rishel had tocarry his bicycle.

24 THE DESERT M AGA ZINE


25/40

W istern Pacific train crossing the Great Salt Desert.

194405 desert magazine 1944 may

Documents