The Newtown bee., 1904-08-12
THE SUMMER LAND.


 THE SUMMER LAND.
 MRS ANAH SPENCER OF GREENWICH,
 DAUGHTER OF DIR AND MRS Fl. Fl.
 HARTWELL OF NEW MILFORD,
 WRITES OF HER EXPERIENCES IN
 CALIFORNIA.
 Southern Pacific R. R., Arizona,
 March 27, 1904.
 We left Los Angeles about noon, yesterday, and for three or four hours ran through one of the finest orange growing sections of Southern Califor- nia. The houses nearly all look neat and in good condition. Most of them are surrounded Gin some cases embow- ered) in palms and flowers. The streets and roads are the finest thing in the section. Most of them are laid out with the original sections, and so make long, straight avenues running for miles and miles, arched by eucalyp- tus and fringed by palm. They are neither dusty or muddy, for they are oiled. The oiled roads of California are wonder to the average Eastern tourist, but there is no question as to their fineness. In country where oil wells are everywhere, the expense is not great in the beginning, and after being once done, it requires less ex- pense to keep them in good condition than it would by any other process. On roads where there is heavy traffic they wear in places into ''chuck holes, !" in which case little sand and oil fills up the place, and it is as good as. new, and the whole road is oiled occasional ly. It has several advantages besides its inexpensiveness. It is never dusty, and in case of rain the water runs of, and the road is neither washed nor muddy afterwards. It is almost as indestructible as paved street, yet has the advantage of being easier on horses feet, and noiseless for driving. After few hours, however, all veg citation disappeared, and sometimes for miles not particle of vegetation could be seen, nothing but acres and acres of sand, blown into hillocks and winrows and mounds, while in the background mountains showed against the horizon, all of the same ashen gray hue.
 We had an unusually pleasant day for the trip, with hardly a breath of air stirring, still clouds of fine dust as light as flour filled the air, and made one thankful one was inside car, in- stead of being outside. With venti- lators closed, and double windows, the sand sifted in everywhere, covering the window stills and seats till they were almost as gray as the desert out side. How in the world, in the old days, the prospectors ever managed to cross the deserts alive is a question hat.seems almost unanSwerable. This is the place where it blows the tele- graph poles in two. That may seem a funny statement, but vertheless it is true one. A telegraph pole lasts 8 less time in the desert than anywhere else in this country. The constantly blowing clouds of fine sand cut out the wood rapidly, and the sand being most close to the ground, it gradually wears the pole away at the base. Some of the older poles taper down at the bot tom almost like sharpened lead pen ell.
 Occasionally they get into a sand- storm, and the train is in a bad pre- dicament. In the old days it was not unusual for the sand to cover the track, and then the train must stand for hours, with scorching sun above and in that terrible binding, stifling cloud of dust, every window and ven tilator closed, but to little effect in keeping out the sand. After it was over it took hours to clear the track, as snow blows and all ordinary appli- ances were useless, and the only rem edy was men and shovels. Now there is little or no danger of getting stalled in this way, for the companies have raised their track some few feet above the surface level, and so escape being drifted in. Such an experience may now be possible but not at all probable. From Indio to Salaon the land is be- low sea level, reaching it's lowest point at the latter place, where it is 265 feet below sea level-that IS what the por- ter told me. Even at this time of the year it is most uncomfortably warm through these places. Yuma, on the Colorado river, between California and Arizona, is said by many to be the hot test spot on earth. In fact there is a story afloat that once upon a time a man who had lived in Yuma all his life, died, and having been wicked and unregenerate man, he-most nat urally-did not take up his abode in the habitations of the blessed. After he had been dead for about week his relatives received message (by what means the narrative saith not), asking them to send some blankets to him at once, for after being accustomed to Yuma all his life, the climate seemed decidedly chilly.
 Please to understand that I do not