Part 1

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

Footnote anchors are denoted by [number], and the footnotes have been placed at the end of the paragraph.

Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.

THE PACIFIC COAST SCENIC TOUR

THE

PACIFIC COAST SCENIC TOUR

_FROM SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA TO ALASKA THE CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY YELLOWSTONE PARK AND THE GRAND CAÑON_

BY

HENRY T. FINCK AUTHOR OF “ROMANTIC LOVE AND PERSONAL BEAUTY,” “CHOPIN AND OTHER MUSICAL ESSAYS”

_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_

LONDON SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON _Limited_ St. Dunstan’s House FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET, E.C.

1891

BERWICK & SMITH, PRINTERS, BOSTON, U.S.A.

TO MY FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE

WENDELL PHILLIPS GARRISON

PREFACE.

Books on California and Alaska exist in abundance, if not superabundance; but the intervening States of Oregon and Washington have been comparatively neglected in a way which seems surprising when we consider the remarkable scenic and climatic attractions of those States, their industrial resources, and the great future which doubtless lies before them. The present volume is an attempt to give a general and impartial view of the whole Pacific Coast, from San Diego to Sitka. Covering such a vast territory, it cannot, of course, make any pretensions to exhaustiveness, but is simply an endeavor to reproduce the local color of each State, by describing a few typical and important localities in each. I have naturally chosen the most favorable specimens, as every author or other mortal does in showing samples of a thing with which he is in love. I am in love with the Pacific Coast, because after living on it eleven years, at various times, and twelve years on the Atlantic Coast, I have found the scenery so much grander and the climate so much more delightful and exhilarating on the western side of our continent than on the eastern; and climate and scenery, in my opinion, make up fully one-half of human happiness. Scenery, indeed, requires some æsthetic culture for its appreciation, but climate affects all alike; and where the sky is habitually overcast with clouds, and the air humid and sultry, the millionaire suffers from habitual depression of spirits just as much as the beggar.

If the enthusiasm which pervades these pages should prove contagious to some of the readers, I do not fear that any of them will chide me hereafter for having induced them to emigrate to the West,—least of all, those who are in comfortable circumstances and wish to spend their last days amid bright and cheerful surroundings, and in a climate which favors longevity. It is my solemn determination to build a château somewhere on the Pacific Coast for myself some day,—if I can manage the “comfortable circumstances.” Tourists, however, I must add, may possibly take the Pacific Coast Scenic Tour described in this volume and come back more or less disappointed. This will probably be the case if they visit Southern California in July, the Yosemite in October, Oregon and Washington in August, and Alaska before July or after September; for they will then find the temperature uncomfortably high in Southern California, and the water-falls reduced to a minimum in the Yosemite; while in Oregon and Washington they will probably see nothing at all, on account of the dense smoke from forest fires; and in Alaska the mountains will be obscured by mist and rain. But just as a prudent sight-seer does not visit Switzerland except between the middle of June and the middle of October, so we have a right to expect of him that he will plan his trip to the Pacific Coast for the most favorable season. This may seem difficult, on account of the great distance to be covered, and the variety of climatic conditions; but as a matter of fact it is the easiest thing in the world. Indeed, this trip can be taken in such a way that each locality as described in succession in this volume can be seen under the most favorable conditions possible. If an excursion agent had planned the climate of the Pacific Coast, he could not have made things more delightfully convenient for tourists. All you have to do is to follow spring northwards. Leave the East in the abominable winter months and spend a few months in Southern California, which from January to April is a paradise. If the Southern Pacific or Atlantic and Pacific railroads are taken, there will be no danger of a snow blockade, the temperature will be comfortable, and the scenic attractions abundant. Early in May, when vegetation fades in Southern California, the Yosemite should be visited to see its water-falls at their best. San Francisco and Tahoe also are most attractive in May. Continuing northward, we find Oregon and Washington still in their spring garb in June, while the snow-peaks are not yet concealed by smoke. July and August may be devoted to the sea-coast and to Alaska, and in September the return trip may be made across the Canadian Pacific, with its three mountain chains and the National Park as its chief attractions; or the Northern Pacific, which among its attractions includes the Columbia River scenery, the snow-peaks of Oregon and Washington, Lake Pend D’Oreille, and the Yellowstone National Park; or the Union Pacific, which includes the Sierra Nevada, Lake Tahoe, the stupendous scenery of the Rio Grande, Salt Lake City, Denver, and the Rocky Mountains,—three routes between which it is difficult to make a choice.

To complete the American Scenic Tour, we must of course take in one of the Great Lakes, Niagara Falls, the Thousand Islands and Rapids of the St. Lawrence, Lakes Champlain and George, and the Hudson River,—scenes which have been too often described to be touched upon here. I have seen parts of four continents, but am still looking for a tour equal to the one outlined in this volume with the addition just named. It includes the grandest water-falls, the largest lakes, the finest river scenery and geysers, the most stupendous glaciers, and some of the most superb snow-peaks and ranges in the whole world; while the Yosemite and the Grand Cañon are absolutely unique and without rivals anywhere.

Most of the illustrations in this volume are by courteous permission reproduced from photographs in the excellent collection of Messrs. Taber, San Francisco, Haynes, Yellowstone Park, B. C. Towne & Macalpin & Lamb, Portland, and Pierce & Blanchard, Los Angeles.

H. T. F.

TOKIO, JAPAN, August, 1890.

CONTENTS.

I. LOS ANGELES COUNTY.

PAGE

Across the Continent—A Storm in the Desert—A Contemptuous City— Progress and Prospects—The Land Boom—Climate and Crops—Ostrich- Farming—A Vineyard Terror—The Native Wines—Quail-Hunting 1

II. SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER.

A Collapsed “Boom”—Los Angeles To-day—Prospects for Immigration—Poultry and Cattle—Five Sources of Water for Irrigation—Windmills, and Tunnels under River-Beds 15

III. THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE.

Value of Reservoirs—Winter in Southern California—Flowers and Sunshine—Where Rain means “Better Weather”—Dry Air and Sea- Breezes—Fogs and Frost—California for Invalids as compared with Italy, Spain, and Africa—Rural Cities of the Future—The Pacific Andalusia—Some Disadvantages—Gophers, Dust-Storms, Drought—Enemies of the Orange and Vine 25

IV. THE HOME OF THE ORANGE.

The German Colony at Anaheim—Rabbit-Hunting in the Cactus Fields—Cows and Oranges—The Best California Orange—Riverside and its Model Orchards—Orange-Picking—A Wonderful Avenue—Local Flavor in Oranges—An English Colony—How Prohibition prohibits—Scenes between Riverside and San Diego 36

V. OVER THE MEXICAN BORDER.

San Diego and Coronado Beach—An Ideal Climate—An Artificial Lake—How Towns are raised—The National Boundary—Donkeys versus Railroads—More Saloons than Houses—Limes versus Lemons 49

VI. SANTA CATALINA ISLAND.

From San Diego to Los Angeles—Along the Coast—A Romantic Spot—Lost in a Mustard Field—San Pedro—Floating Highlands—Sun and Ocean Baths in Winter—Avalon Village—The Luxury of Existence—Flowers, Humming-Birds, and Poison Ivy—Rattlesnakes—Hunting Wild Goats—Indian Relics—Abalone Shells and their Hunters—Sport for Fishermen—A Submarine Garden—The Seals at Home 55

VII. SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE.

A Dam under a River-Bed—Beans and Culture—An Æsthetic Town—Beautiful Gardens—Spanishtown and Chinatown—Mojave Desert—On the Way to the Yosemite—A Fine Stage Ride—Floral Wonders—The Sierra Snow-Plant and Mariposa Lilies—Resemblance to Oregon Scenery—Discovery of the Valley—The Yosemite and Bridal Veil Falls—Rainbow Spray—El Capitan and Mirror Lake—Origin of the Valley—Yosemite as a Lake—Glacier Point and Other Excursions—The Big Trees in the Mariposa Grove 75

VIII. SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN.

Mountainous Character of the Pacific Coast—The Hills of San Francisco—Cable-Car Tobogganing—The Golden Gate and Cliff House— Scenes in the Chinese Quarter—John’s Table Delicacies—Lunch in a Chinese Restaurant—An Honest Bookseller—Chinese Women—Opium Dens— Behind the Scenes in a Chinese Theatre—The Asiatic Trade—California Hotels, Restaurants, and Wines—Berkeley and the University—The Climate of San Francisco 108

IX. LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY.

Climatic Paradoxes in San Francisco—A Long Ferry-Boat—Snow-Sheds and Donner Lake—Truckee River—Logging and Fishing—Tahoe City—Round Trip on a Boat—A Lake amidst Snow Mountains—A Cinnamon Bear— Butterflies, Snow, and a Blue Sky—Large Trout, and how to catch them—Sunsets reflected in the Lake—Other Color Phenomena—The Flume to Carson Valley—A Mountain Railway—Desolate Nevada Mountains—Mining under a City—Gold Hill 126

X. MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAKE.

The Oregon and California Railroad—California’s Grandest Mountain— Isolated Peaks of the Cascade Range—Volcanic Remnants—Sisson’s— Indians at Home—Sources of the Sacramento—Effects of Rain—Oregon’s Numerous Rivers—Fish and Crawfish—Southern Oregon—A Mysterious Mountain Lake—The Oregon National Park—The Willamette Valley—Oregon Wheat and Fruit 149

XI. PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES.

A Picturesque Situation—Five Snow-Peaks in Sight—Portland versus Los Angeles—Clearings—Chinese Anecdotes—Propitiating the Gods—Appreciation of Female Beauty—Summer Resorts—Yaquina Bay and Long Beach—Bathing in the North Pacific—Catching Crabs at Low Tide—A Sad Accident—Clatsop Beach and Tillamook Head—An Exposed Lighthouse—In the Virgin Forest—Oregon Mosses, Ferns, and Trees—Flowers and Berries 162

XII. UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER.

An Ungrateful Republic—The Columbia compared with Other Rivers— Snow-Peaks—Salmon-Canneries—Astoria and the Mouth of the River—Cape Horn and Rooster Rock—Water-Falls—The Cascade— Salmon-Wheels—In the Highlands—The Last of the Mohicans—Low and High Water—The Scenery and the Railroad—The “Place of the Winds”— “Swift Water”—A River turned on Edge 182

XIII. OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW-PEAKS.

From Portland to Tacoma—Views of and from Mt. Hood—American Scenery—Advantages of Isolation—Ascent of Mt. St. Helens—Masculine and Feminine Peaks—Tacoma and the Jungfrau—American Names for American Mountains—Indian Names—A Hop Valley—Cascade Division of the Northern Pacific Railroad—Mt. Tacoma—Its Fourteen Glaciers and Five Rivers 203

XIV. THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN.

A Strange Fact—History of Tacoma—Advantages of its Situation— Navigation—Forests and Saw-Mills—Splendors and Disadvantages of Forest Fires—Coal-Fields of Washington—Scenic Features of Puget Sound—Olympia—Seattle since the Fire—The Olympic Mountains—Port Townsend 217

XV. A WEEK IN ALASKA.

A Great Salt-Water River—The Genuine American Switzerland—Highest Snow-Mountain in the World—The Excursion Season—Islands and Forests—Indian Traits—Alaskan Villages—Glacier Bay—An Iceberg Factory 231

XVI. ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC.

Advantages of an Autumnal Trip—English Aspect of Victoria—Vancouver a “Boom Town”—The Frazer River and Cañon—Eagle Pass—Reappearance of the Columbia River—Mountain- Side Forests—Comparison with Switzerland—Construction of Snow-Sheds—Banff and the National Park—The Bow River—Devil’s Head Lake—Sulphur Mountain—Winnipeg and Lake Superior 248

XVII. THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK.

An Independent Journey on Horseback—Geysers and Paint- Pots—Waiting for an Eruption—Yellowstone Cañon and Falls—The Lake and its Trout—A Tent Hotel—Mysterious Sounds 279

XVIII. THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.

From Los Angeles to Peach Spring—Desert Wind—An Arizona Village— Indians—Descensus Averno—Extraordinary Mountain Architecture—Silence and Desolation—A Bewitched Creek—Up the Diamond Cañon—The Grand Cañon and the River—New Mexico and Kansas 294

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

MT. HOOD _Frontispiece_

FACING PAGE

OSTRICH FARM—SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 12

FRUIT FARM IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 22

ORANGE GROVE—SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 42

NORTH DOME—YOSEMITE VALLEY 96

BIG TREE—YOSEMITE VALLEY 104

SEAL ROCKS—SAN FRANCISCO 110

LAKE TAHOE 132

MT. SHASTA 152

CRATER LAKE 158

CASTLE ROCK—COLUMBIA RIVER 196

GREAT DALLES—COLUMBIA RIVER 202

SITKA 244

FRAZER CAÑON 254

THE SELKIRK GLACIER 262

CANADIAN PACIFIC HOTEL AT BANFF 268

DEVIL’S HEAD LAKE 272

MINERVA TERRACE—YELLOWSTONE PARK 282

FALLS OF THE YELLOWSTONE 292

THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO 296

I.

LOS ANGELES COUNTY.

ACROSS THE CONTINENT—A STORM IN THE DESERT—A CONTEMPTUOUS CITY—PROGRESS AND PROSPECTS—THE LAND BOOM—CLIMATE AND CROPS—OSTRICH-FARMING—A VINEYARD TERROR—THE NATIVE WINES—QUAIL-HUNTING.

Twenty-three years ago, when the first transcontinental railway was commenced, the possibility of not only its success, but of its very construction, was almost universally doubted, and the San Francisco bankers who advanced money for the enterprise had to do so secretly, in order not to create a panic among their depositors. To-day there are five transcontinental lines, or six, if we count the Oregon Short Line separately, and the tourist or invalid can pay his money and take his choice, according to the season,—the Canadian Pacific, Northern Pacific, or Union Pacific in summer; the Atlantic and Pacific or Southern Pacific in winter. The last-named is less interesting scenically than some of the Northern routes, but to invalids leaving the East in winter it presents the advantage of plunging at once _in medias res_, so far as semi-tropical climate is concerned.

Of the southern United States, this side of the Mississippi, one gets a rather unfavorable impression from the railway window, as the greater part of the distance from Washington to New Orleans, and some hundred miles beyond, seems little else than one boundless swamp, with moss-covered trees, an occasional low mountain range, corn and cotton fields, and beggarly huts, as the only scenic features. Montgomery seems a sleepy country village; and although New Orleans has sights worth seeing, it requires courage and a taste for roughing it in order to get at them; for the streets (naturally inclined to be muddy, because the city lies below the level of the Mississippi) are so horribly paved that even a New Yorker must lift up his hands and thank Heaven that he does not live in such a city. Without any exaggeration, a Swiss stage-road in the midst of the mountains is not so rough and jolting an affair as the street-car tracks in New Orleans; and what the roads are beyond the paved streets may be inferred from the fact that in January I found it absolutely impossible to reach the City Park (where the Exposition was held some years ago) on foot, from the terminus of the street-cars. Some of the gardens on the way were ornamented with orange-trees laden with ripe fruit, but both trees and fruit presented a sad contrast to the luxuriance I beheld in Los Angeles three days later; and equally great was the contrast between the moist, warm, enervating atmosphere of the Louisiana marshes, and the dry, cool, mountain and ocean breezes of Southern California.

If you leave New Orleans, say, on Wednesday noon, you will be at Los Angeles on Saturday evening before ten. A good supply of reading-matter is desirable, as there is little to see for a day or two, except cactus bushes, a few painted Indians, and bleak mountains, some of them across the Mexican border. At El Paso, which calls itself “the Paris of the Southwest,” and claims twelve thousand inhabitants, the train stops long enough to afford a chance to drive across the river into Mexican soil. The El Paso papers try hard to induce the passengers in quest of health to stay there, and have a very poor opinion of California. The _Herald_ which I bought, editorially described the “recent terrific rainstorms” in that State, and found it difficult to decide which was a worse place for invalids, “Holland with her damp marshes, or the Golden State.” The editor probably mixed up that State with Arizona; for on arriving in California we discovered there had not been a drop of rain for several weeks, while in Arizona we found the deserts, as far as the eye could reach, one vast plain of shining, semi-liquid mud, interspersed with large temporary lakes. The rain poured down in blinding torrents and with true tropical violence, forming channels several feet deep across the desert, and whirling aside thirty-feet iron rails like straws.

The spectacle of this rain-storm in the desert was so weird and sublime that we gladly in return accepted the fate of reaching Los Angeles twelve hours behind time; for the train, owing to the numerous washouts and soft places, could only creep along, and beyond Tucson we had to wait five hours for daylight, as the engineer did not dare to proceed farther in the dark. Such storms and washouts are obviously frequent in this region, for ties and rails are scattered all along the road for emergencies. Nature, provoked by the “soft thing” which the Southern Pacific had in building this level road, seems to have taken this means of getting square with it. At Colton, California, the scenery becomes snow-mountainous and interesting, and remains so as far as Los Angeles.

During my first visit to Southern California, in 1887, I was amused to notice the vast contempt with which the fifty thousand inhabitants of the city of Los Angeles looked down on the three hundred and fifty thousand benighted denizens of a certain northern village known as San Francisco, and on other places that have the effrontery to grow rapidly, and to claim special advantages of climate, situation, and commerce. The Los Angeles _Herald_ informed its admiring readers that—

“Pasadena and Los Angeles will be one city in a brief period, and form a continuous municipality from the Sierra Madre to the sea—an extent of thirty miles in length by at least six in width, with five hundred thousand people contained therein, and will be the capital of the richest State in the Union. The claim of New York as the Empire State is already in dispute, but the dispute will soon be settled by the pre-eminence of South California.”

It must be admitted that much had happened to justify this Los Angelic grandiloquence. Seventeen years ago the City of Angeles had only ten thousand inhabitants, no street-cars, and only one railway. To-day it has at least sixty thousand inhabitants, electric street-cars, and more than half-a-dozen railways, with about seventy-five daily trains. Orange-trees have increased in the county from twenty-five thousand to a million or more; grape-vines from three millions to twenty millions; and other agricultural products in proportion.

Its very disadvantages have proved advantages to Los Angeles. For instance, the fact that coal, like wood, is expensive, made the city the first in the country to adopt a general system of electric street-lighting. It has seventeen masts one hundred and fifty feet high, fourteen masts sixty feet high, and hundreds of private lights. The electric railroad is also being rapidly extended. The cars run at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour, which can be increased to twenty outside the city limits. The road’s capacity is said to be four times that of a horse road, and its cost only one-half, while there is no torturing of poor horses in the hot noonday sun. A ride or a walk along the streets of Los Angeles conveys the impression that the city is quite as large and as “metropolitan” as it claims to be; the natural bustle and activity being increased by the winter visitors from the East.