Bismarck daily tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1881-1916, 1916-07-23
As IT LOOKS FROM
WHERE YOU SIT
(By Harrison Hatton)

Timely cloudy skies minimizing
the heat, together with splendid roads
from Fargo west, made driving Joy
for entrants in the Yellowstone Park
tour over the National Parks Highway
this morning. The cars rolled out of
Fargo at twenty-five mile an hour
clip, picking up speed each mile, and
within an hour had run ahead of the
special hotel train on the Northern
Pacific railroad, that is accompanying
the touring party. An occasional
slight shower did not interfere with
the progress of the drivers and excel
lent time resulted on the first portion
of the 210-mile run to Bismarck.
Rarely have automobile enthusiasts
had better weather and road condi-
tons than those which marked Fri.
days and Saturday mornings runs.
Let your imagination, with the
sweeping strokes Of Maxfield Par
IRISH, paint for you, this picture:
A far-fung vista of yellow wheat
lands as level as billiard table, with
sentinel Lombardy poplars marking
the distant, encircling horizon, rear
ing their pointed tops to the deep blue
Five to seven mfily to;the right, and
an equal distance to the left from
ones moving parquet seat aboard the
special Northern Pacific train, you
command lookout's vision of the die
straight road that, in your middle fore
ground, mile away, parallels the rail-
road. High above this road, as though
headed for the Fargo fair, lazy, IT.
regular line of crows flaps it's way
eastward, ~ n
Directly beneath coming westward
with the speed of the train, is line
of twenty-odd automobiles, the first
nearly out of sight on your right and
the last lost in the horizon to your
left. Even if you never have been in
one of those cars during a flight over
these prairie roads, you feel the joy
of the sport. If you drive car you
know the splendid exhilaration which
comes with the wild, unrestrained
sweep at high speed over these
springy dirt highways, where you real
for five, ten or twenty miles, in plac.
es, without turn or rise of even a
few feet.
Lets Co." is the slogan. And
they do go! There are no stony places
or jagged cuts to cause bloWouts. The
drivers call on their big, high-power-
ed cars for all the cars have, and that
is lot.
Somehow, the annual spectacles at
Indianapolis, Sheepshead Bay, and
other other great motor speedways
pale a bit in your memoirs os you
witness this free dashing motoring
thorugh North Dakota on the road
to Yellowstone.
OF course, such sport would be i'm.
possible on the crooked rural roads
east of the Mississippi Frequent
towns and villages and turns would
bar it. But out here it is royal sport.
The gallery at the rear of the train
increases in size and intentness when
Fargo has been left score of miles
behind.
For, out in front in that fifteen.mile
long procession of automobiles is a
roadster with a Cabriolet top. It is
the only Cabriolet top in the line and
it's driver is the only woman driving
in the tour, Mrs. Sheldon of Mime
apolis. She experienced some bad
luck, with three blowouts, coming
across Minnesota. She is out to make
good score on the 21O-mile run to
Bismarck.
She was up at 6 o'clock this morn
ing, was one of the first to be served
with breakfast in the dining cars
aboard the hotel train. She was the
first to get away, beating the pilot car
out of town. She knows the road and
is keeping the lead like veteran.
h The train conductor holds watch on
her during ten.mile straight-away,
counting telegraph poles to compute
time.
II 'She did close to fiftythree miles
an hour on that stretch" says the con:
ductor as he snaps shut the hunting
case Of his watch.
Il Just then the road comes to one OF
the infrequent turns and crosses the
railroad. The car with the Cabriolet
top swings hood front and heads ID.
rectly for the ftain with undiminisfied
j speed n IA only a mile down the