Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1868-07-31

up, up; tho trees grow smaller; cedars,
tamaracks and frs take the place of the no.
bic pines, and we no longer see the red earth
of the gold belt below. Gray granite rocks
are growing plentier, and the small noun
tain peaks ON either side of the road begin
to show bald heads. We are in the heart of
the Sierra-a barren, dreary, desolate coun-
try. AT Emigrant Gap, "a miles above Sac
ramcnto we meet the down train at last, and
the road is open before us. Another tunnel
300 feet in length. We pass Crystal Lake,
and are at Cisco, town of shanties, which
was for q long time the terminus of the road.
We are 5000 feet above the level of the sea,
and still ascending. The pines have almost
entirely disappeared, and we pass through
many long cuts blasted through the solid
granite spurs of the mountains. We ira
verse continuous snow fields and immense
drifts, through which the road had been cut
with shovels for the passing of the trains.
l02 miles from Sacramento we reach Sum
NIT Valley, and stand $500 feet above the
level of the sea. Lift Mount Tama bodily
from its base, and place it on the summit of
Mt Diablo, and we could still look down by
hundreds of feet on the double mountain
height. The snow banks rise high above
the road on either side. Two miles more
and the cars reach the entrance of the great
tunnel, 1859 feet in length. We have scaled
the great Sierra at last We are 1894 feet
above the level of the sea. The air feels
COiu anu Dut uOt oppressive, anu we
experience no Inconvenience from its rari-
tication ut this great elevation. The snow
lies piled in immense banks above the tun-
mel, and rises in solid banks, with sheer
precipitous sides on either side of the track.
A swarm of Cinnamon are busy about the
other end of the tunnel shoveling away the
snow which has come down i'm great slides,
bringing with it huge granite rocks upon
the track. The water pOurs down in tor
rents from numberless crevices and seams
in the granite walls and roof of the long,
dark, cavernous tunnel, but we struggle
through on foot and anxiously inquire after
the prospect of getting the train across the
mountain. Two or three hours will clear
the track. We wait with what patience we
may, and, at last, at O'Clock the prolonged
whistle of the good locomotive Antelope,
which has drawn us to the summit of the
Sierra, is heard. "All aboard" shouts the
conductor, George Wood, who has the hon
or of taking the first passenger train across
the mountains, and the train moves slowly
on. A halt for another slide; another halt.
and so on, slowly and carefully. The snow
banks comes down so close to the track that
the caves of the ears rake them on either
side. 1t is the closest fit imaginable. Six
more tunnels, ranging from 100 to 500 feet
each in length, in many of which we see
great masses of solid blue ice hanging down
from the wall like stalactites and stalagmites
in the mammoth cave of Kentucky, are
y
ed 900 feet already, and, MS we emerge from
the last tunnel, the conductor exclams :
by heaven, we are over the mountains"
And now the train, with accelerated speed,
moves steadily downward toward the val
ley of the Truckee. The steam is shut off,
the brakes put down, and, as the eagle sets
his wings and floats noiselessly down, down,
through the realms of air toward the earth
from his eyrie among the clouds, we slide
swiftly and smoothly down the acclivities
OF the mountains into the Great Basin of
Nevada. Bonner Lake, as lovely sheet of
water as is to be found on earth, lies far be-
low us among the pine-clad hills, its bosom
unruflied by breath of breeze, and as blue
and calm as the heavens above it. The road
winds around the precipitous mountain
sides, almost encircling Bonner Lake as it
descends, and following around a long can
yon, making circuit of seven miles to gain
an advance of no more than a quarter of
mile, we reach the outlet of the lake, a
swift, rushing stream of blue cold water.
We have travelled nine and half miles and
descended 7SS feet since leaving the summit.
Now we descend rapidly on one of the
most beautifully smooth and solid roads on
the continent into the romantic valley of
the Truckee, whose mountain torrents come
rushing and roaring out of the mountains
from the southwark, hidden in which lies
Lake Tahoe. The timber here is immense,
and from this source the supplies for build
ing tlle rOau lOr nUnuTeuS OF miles eastward
are to be drawn. Sawinills by the dozen,
driven by the rushing river, line the banks
OF the stream fol miles and miles, and the
hills swarm with laborers of every nation
atty and hue-Europeans, Americans, Az
ricans and Asiatics, (the latter immensely
in number,) engaged in
cutting down and preparing the timber for
the road The whistle sounds q long, shrill |
scream, and the train arrives at Truckee |
tatlon-Coburn's-1l9 miles from Sacra- |
mento, and $500 feet above the sea- The |
portion of the trip between this point and
Summit Valley had, until this day, June |
Is, been made by stages. AS we pass we
see the jaded stage-horses looking wonder |
lngly, and, as it seemed to us, joyously, at |
the swift-speeding trains. Their weary toll |
through mountain SHOWS and mud is over,
and now the stagemen will pull down their |
stables and pack up their traps, the drivers
will fold their tents like the Arab" and |
horses and men will as silently steal away,
to be seen no more here forever. Passing
through two more tunnels and crossing
and recrossing the exulting and Astounding
river, as it leaps full of fierce, fresh noun
tain life and energy down toward the desert
plains, we emerge at last into the open, tree
less mountains of Nevada with the snow
clad heights of Washoe Mountain, and the
wondrous Silver Lake before us. Just as
the last faint light of day fades from the
summit of the Sierra, the long, shrill, low
Gus shout of the locomotive announces our
arrival at our journeys end, 10 miles from
Virginia, and we find ourselves l5i miles
from Sacramento, in Reno, town of stores,
hotels, saloons, gambling~hous and live
ry stables, which has sprung up like magic
within month. The whole population,
men, women and children, rushed out to
welcome us.