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Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>WESTWARD PIONEERS-A BRUSH AND THE TRINKLES </p> </div>)

Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>Many cars had tried to climb Pike's Peak, but a Locomobile Steamer was the first. The second was a 70-horsepower Stearns. The Brush Runabout was the third and went every foot of the way under its own power. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>This was a happy climax and far beyond our expectations, because we had thought of the trip only as an advertising stunt for the Brush factory and the Brush Runabout. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout +
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>To adver … <div class="poem"></br><p>To advertise the Brush in 1908, Frank Briscoe decided to send five factory models to different destinations, and asked Fred to come to Detroit and drive one to Kansas City, as he was the only Brush salesman familiar with the West.</br></p></br></div>nly Brush salesman familiar with the West. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>At a ban … <div class="poem"></br><p>At a banquet the evening before the start, each of the drivers was called on for a speech. When Fred's turn came, he told the crowd he could not make speeches, but he could drive a Brush Runabout and that, when he reached Kansas City, he would ask permission to drive on to Denver, climbing Pike's Peak on the way. After the applause had subsided, all forgot about the boast except Fred and Briscoe.</br></p></br></div>t about the boast except Fred and Briscoe. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>He said … <div class="poem"></br><p>He said the road down the mountain was good but narrow and steep, and that we would find good accommodations in the valley. We took it slowly, because it seemed the rocks reared their bulk to oppose us in the dark, but as we came to them, there always was a good road around them, though I found myself bracing my feet for a bump that never came. We realized that this passage was never meant for an automobile and that more than once the Brush Runabout had rushed in where a long-wheelbase car would have feared to tread. We reached a railroad at Big Pine in Independence Valley, where much later all the traffic went that way, the road having been built through and the man who had made his living towing autos through the sand at the edge of Death Valley had moved away, there being no business. Years later we learned that the Brush was the first car to go from Tonopah, Nevada, to Big Pine, California, on that road.</br></p></br></div>da, to Big Pine, California, on that road. </p> </div>)
Automobiling in the West + (<div class="poem"> <p>All duri … <div class="poem"></br><p>All during the afternoon, it rained and the wind blew a gale, but the temperature was high and we did not mind. Had it not been for the rain and its cooling effect there on the sand and sage brush desert, I doubt whether we could have stood it.</br></p></br></div>t, I doubt whether we could have stood it. </p> </div>)
Free Air + (<div class="poem"> <p>She agai … <div class="poem"></br><p>She again followed the swastika tread. To avoid a hole in the road ahead, the unknown driver had swung over to the side of the road, and taken to the intensely black earth of the edge of an unfenced cornfield. Flashing at Claire came the sight of a deep, water-filled hole, scattered straw and brush, débris of a battlefield, which made her gaspingly realize that her swastikaed leader had been stuck and--</br></p></br></div>her swastikaed leader had been stuck and-- </p> </div>)
The Bridge: VII The Tunnel + (<div class="poem"> <p>The phon … <div class="poem"></br><p>The phonographs of hades in the brain<br /></br>Are tunnels that re-wind themselves, and love<br /></br>A burnt match skating in a urinal—<br /></br>Somewhere above Fourteenth TAKE THE EXPRESS<br /></br>To brush some new presentiment of pain—</br></p></br></div>KE THE EXPRESS<br /> To brush some new presentiment of pain— </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>I don't … <div class="poem"></br><p>I don't suppose my husband and I could possibly make clear to modern motorists the intense affection we developed for a piece of machinery—our little Brush Runabout. But at the end of our ordeal (it was 1908) we parted with the car as if it had been a favorite child.</br></p></br></div>he car as if it had been a favorite child. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>My husba … <div class="poem"></br><p>My husband, Fred A. Trinkle, began driving and repairing automobiles in Denver, Colorado, as early as 1900, and in 1907 he became agent for the Brush automobile for the state of Colorado. The car was designed by Alonzo P. Brush and built in Detroit by the Briscoe Manufacturing Co. The Brush Runabout was a two-seated, one-cylinder, double side chain-driven car with a coil-type spring under each corner, acetylene headlights and Prest-O-Lite tank, with no top, windshield, or doors. It was a very sturdy car and could go anywhere there was a road. The chain-drive on each side gave it great climbing power although it was not fast. But that was not a serious deficiency because there weren't many good roads on which to speed in those days, and drivers were not speed-crazy.</br></p></br></div>se days, and drivers were not speed-crazy. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>In Kansa … <div class="poem"></br><p>In Kansas City he received instructions from Briscoe to continue to Denver with the Brush, look over the possibilities of a Pike's Peak climb and report if it would be feasible. Fred soon found bad roads all through Kansas, and driving was strenuous work. Beyond Dodge City, he stopped to speed up his engine in the heavy mud and in starting, the chain jumped off the sprocket teeth. This had happened before, as the chains and corresponding teeth had become worn in the steady drag through the mud. He tried to flip the chain on while the engine was running, his usual custom, but in a moment of carelessness he caught his hand between the chain and the teeth of the sprocket, stalling the engine and trapping him as completely as though he were in a bear trap. He couldn't move to reach the gear-shift lever.</br></p></br></div>uldn't move to reach the gear-shift lever. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>When thi … <div class="poem"></br><p>When this route was pointed out to them, they looked up a thousand feet or more to a line on the mountain side which was their road. This seemed to be the crucial part of the climb as it was so steep most cars could not get gasoline to their carburetors and so became stalled. Up to this time no one had heard of vacuum tanks or fuel pumps, and automobiles obtained their gasoline supply by gravity only. This did not bother the Brush Runabout because it was equipped with the only known diaphragm fuel pump which brought the fuel from the tank under the floor boards to a fuel cup on top of the engine. With that arrangement, the motor could be kept running even if the car were standing on end, which accounted for the Brush's ability to get over steep places.</br></p></br></div> Brush's ability to get over steep places. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>We reach … <div class="poem"></br><p>We reached Rawlins at noon the next day and had lunch in a quite pretentious hotel. Sandy roads slowed us up in the afternoon and we had to stop at Daley's, a big sheep ranch, for the night. We were made welcome by six young men who showed every possible courtesy. One young man was very anxious about a bad ditch we would have to cross the next morning. He offered to take a team of horses and pull us through, but Fred said the car was going every foot of the way under its own power. I believe they felt sorry for us because our car was so small, not realizing the Brush could get through places impossible for a larger automobile.</br></p></br></div>places impossible for a larger automobile. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>After fo … <div class="poem"></br><p>After four or five miles Fred turned to me and asked if I had put the shovel back in the car and my heart sank when we found we had laid it down behind a sage brush and forgotten it in the confusion of starting. Every mile was gained with so much effort that we couldn't possibly think of going back for the shovel, because we could buy one at the next town if we were lucky enough not to need one before we got there; but here, again, we were to find that money did not avail us.</br></p></br></div> were to find that money did not avail us. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>We carri … <div class="poem"></br><p>We carried signs on the Brush—"This car climbed Pike's Peak"—"From Detroit to San Francisco," and the like. Before we could remove our wraps at the hotel, reporters besieged us for information concerning our trip. We also received a call from a couple in the city who owned a Brush Runabout, and they used all kinds of persuasion to get us to stay a few days and visit a beautiful canyon with them, but Weber Canyon had quenched our desire for more canyons at that time and we were bent on moving as fast as possible. However, we did appreciate this courtesy in a strange city.</br></p></br></div>ppreciate this courtesy in a strange city. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>We never … <div class="poem"></br><p>We never had had any mechanical trouble with the Brush, and its actions were a puzzle. Late in the afternoon the car took another rest. Fred dutifully alighted and began another search. Suddenly he announced he had found the trouble. My spirits rose at once; all I had been able to do all day was sit and worry when the car stopped and enthuse when it mysteriously started again. The trouble was a simple thing, but it had made the day tragic for us. The insulation was worn through on a wire under the machine, short circuiting the engine when the bare wire happened to touch the metal frame. Locating it was the difficult part, but a little tape remedied it and the car was itself again, fairly spurning the worst mud of the day with its wheels and bringing us to Kelton and a railroad for a Sunday night cold lunch, though we persuaded the waitress to augment it with some hot soup. There was a smug crowd of clerks, teachers, and the like at one table, with not a thought beyond food. They sat there in their Sunday best as we entered dressed in our soiled traveling clothes. They looked at us as though we were something the cat had dragged in. That didn't bother us in the least because we had completed another lap on our journey, with food and shelter for the night, and our trusty car waiting to go at the turn of the crank.</br></p></br></div>ar waiting to go at the turn of the crank. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>We enter … <div class="poem"></br><p>We entered San Francisco by the peninsula, going to a post office where we found word for us to meet a Mr. Harris, the Brush sales manager, at the St. Francis Hotel. He had not arrived, so we registered and spent the afternoon buying new clothes. The first thing I bought was a fragrant bunch of violets, such as grow in California only.</br></p></br></div> violets, such as grow in California only. </p> </div>)
Coast to Coast in a Brush Runabout + (<div class="poem"> <p>The car … <div class="poem"></br><p>The car reached New York City December 30. Fred drove over Brooklyn Bridge, through Brooklyn to Coney Island, dipped the wheels of the Brush in the Atlantic Ocean, and was in time for the automobile show which opened January 1, 1909. The insignificant, shabby automobile had reached its goal. It stood in the huge hall with its signs, much-used shovel, and all the dirt and mud it had accumulated on its long trip, among its more aristocratic companions in Grand Central Palace. With its driver, it attracted a great deal of attention.</br></p></br></div>r, it attracted a great deal of attention. </p> </div>)
Our Singing Strength + (<div class="poem"> <p>It snowe … <div class="poem"></br><p>It snowed in spring on earth so dry and warm<br /></br>The flakes could find no landing place to form.<br /></br>Hordes spent themselves to make it wet and cold,<br /></br>And still they failed of any lasting hold.<br /></br>They made no white impression on the black.<br /></br>They disappeared as if earth sent them back.<br /></br>Not till from separate flakes they changed at night<br /></br>To almost strips and tapes of ragged white<br /></br>Did grass and garden ground confess it snowed,<br /></br>And all go back to winter but the road.<br /></br>Next day the scene was piled and puffed and dead.<br /></br>The grass lay flattened under one great tread.<br /></br>Borne down until the end almost took root,<br /></br>The rangey bough anticipated fruit<br /></br>With snowballs cupped in every opening bud.<br /></br>The road alone maintained itself in mud,<br /></br>Whatever its secret was of greater heat<br /></br>From inward fires or brush of passing feet.</br></p></br></div>road alone maintained itself in mud,<br /> Whatever its secret was of greater heat<br /> From inward fires or brush of passing feet. </p> </div>)
Automobiling in the West + (<div class="poem"> <p>But a ki … <div class="poem"></br><p>But a kind providence was with us during the storm, and the lightning kept off. Getting up the Wadsworth sand hill, we cut sage brush and kept piling it up in front of all four wheels to give them something to hold to and prevent slipping and burrowing in the soft sand until the machine was buried to the axles and it became necessary to use block, tackle, and shovels to pull up to the surface. Got to the top at last, but found no improvement in sand conditions. It was the hardest kind of work to make the slightest progress, but at 5:45 in the evening halted at Desert Station, a place inhabited by D. H. Gates, section boss, his wife, Train Dispatcher Howard (his office, cook house, etc., were all combined in a box car which had been set out on a short siding), and a dozen Japanese section hands.</br></p></br></div>ding), and a dozen Japanese section hands. </p> </div>)
Automobiling in the West + (<div class="poem"> <p>When out … <div class="poem"></br><p>When out of the machine and walking around bunches of sage brush care was exercised in keeping out of striking range of these venomous reptiles. Mr. Winton has some tail end rattles as trophies, but I was not so anxious to get close enough to kill the snakes and cut off their tails.</br></p></br></div>o kill the snakes and cut off their tails. </p> </div>)
Automobiling in the West + (<div class="poem"> <p>"Not on … <div class="poem"></br><p>"Not on your life," retorted the plucky automobilist; into the carriage I jumped, he pulled the lever and off we went. The course led up a hill, but there was enough bottom to the sand to give the wheels a purchase and from the hill summit we forged down into the valley where the country was comparatively level. Nothing in sight but sage brush and sand, sand and sage brush.</br></p></br></div> sage brush and sand, sand and sage brush. </p> </div>)