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From Off the Road Database

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T
<div class="poem"> <p>The broken boulders by the road<br /> Shall not commemorate my ruin.<br /> Regret shall be the gravel under foot.<br /> I shall watch for<br /> Slim birds swift of wing<br /> That go where wind and ranks of thunder<br /> Drive the wild processionals of rain. </p> </div>  +
C
<div class="poem"> <p>The camp cook took us into his box-car kitchen and served us a most appetizing meal, including parker house rolls. The signal maintainer, a Scotchman, took us to his house, made a fire to dry Fred's clothes, and gave us his bed for the night. He was the only person on our whole trip who would not take any money. All he wanted was a postcard from us when we reached San Francisco, probably thinking we would never reach such a place. We always carried plenty of fruit to supplement our scanty meals, and we gave him some. He said it was a great treat. Later, when we reached San Francisco, we sent him a picture of the St. Francis Hotel, where we stayed. </p> </div>  +
F
<div class="poem"> <p>The car backfired, slowed. She yanked the gear from third into first. She sped up. The motor ran like a terrified pounding heart, while the car crept on by inches through filthy mud that stretched ahead of her without relief. </p> </div>  +
C
<div class="poem"> <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. </p> </div>  +
<div class="poem"> <p>The car was shipped back to Detroit by express so as to be ready to finish its journey to New York City, and Fred was to follow it to Detroit. </p> </div>  +
T
<div class="poem"> <p>The clouds in glory round them spread,<br /> The sun in grandeur settles on their head.<br /> Winter stays to chill the month of May,<br /> The lightning fondly choose them for their play. </p> </div>  +
O
<div class="poem"> <p>The club maintains a department of free legal advice and its membership card is generally sufficient bail for members charged with violating the speed or traffic regulations. It is always willing to back its members to the limit when the presumption of being right is in their favor, but it has no sympathy with the reckless joy rider and lawbreaker and does all it can to discourage such practices. It has been a powerful influence in obtaining sane and practical motor car legislation, such as raising the speed limit in the open country to thirty-five miles per hour, and providing severer penalties against theft of motor cars. One of the most valuable services of the club has been its relentless pursuit and prosecution of motor car thieves and the recovery of a large percentage of stolen cars. In fact, Los Angeles stands at the head of the large cities of the country in a minimum of net losses of cars by theft and the club can justly claim credit for this. The club has also done much to abate the former scandalous practices of many towns in fixing a very low speed limit with a view of helping out local finances by collecting heavy fines. This is now regulated by state laws and the motorist who is willing to play fair with the public will not suffer much annoyance. The efforts of the club to eliminate what it considers double taxation of its members who must pay both a horse power fee and a heavy property tax were not successful, but the California motorist has the consolation of knowing that all taxes, fines and fees affecting the motor car go to the good cause of road maintenance. </p> </div>  +
<div class="poem"> <p>The completed system contemplates two great trunk lines from San Diego to the Oregon border, one route roughly following the coast and the other well inland, while lateral branches are to connect all county seats not directly reached. Branches will also extend to the Imperial Valley and along the Eastern Sierras as far as Independence and in time across the Cajon Pass through the Mohave Desert to Needles on the Colorado River. California's wealth of materials (granite, sand, limestone, and asphaltum) and their accessibility should give the maximum mileage for money expended. This was estimated by a veteran Pittsburgh highway contractor whom I chanced to meet in the Yosemite, at fully twice as great as could be built in his locality for the same expenditure. </p> </div>  +
W
<div class="poem"> <p>The creatures dumb of all the earth,<br /> By Nature’s laws are giving birth.<br /> But laws of God for good of man,<br /> By men are broken out of ban. </p> </div>  +
T
<div class="poem"> <p>The dust of the traveled road<br /> Shall touch my hands and face. </p> </div>  +
F
<div class="poem"> <p>The earth may glide diaphanous to death;<br /> But if I lift my arms it is to bend<br /> To you who turned away once, Helen, knowing<br /> The press of troubled hands, too alternate<br /> With steel and soil to hold you endlessly.<br /> I meet you, therefore, in that eventual flame<br /> You found in final chains, no captive then—<br /> Beyond their million brittle, bloodshot eyes;<br /> White, through white cities passed on to assume<br /> That world which comes to each of us alone. </p> </div>  +
C
<div class="poem"> <p>The eeriness of the day was climaxed at Hanna, where we ate lunch, by the pervading gloom of the villagers. Upon inquiring what was wrong, we were told that a second mine disaster had occurred within the last few days and bodies still were being brought up out of the shaft. We were glad to move on, even if it might be to trouble of our own ahead. </p> </div>  +
<div class="poem"> <p>The engine started at the first turn of the crank and we wound our way in the dark over a road hemmed in by sagebrush, and after three miles came to a camp at Marston. The chug-chug of our motor brought out the whole section gang to see what was coming, and they gave us a noisy welcome. A double track was being laid and the block signal system was being installed on this division of the railroad, which accounted for the construction camps which were such a help to us. </p> </div>  +
<div class="poem"> <p>The factory required a telegram every night giving the car's location, also a daily written account signed both by driver and observer, to be mailed each night to the factory. Fred won first place among the five cars at the end of the run, later receiving a silver cup and ebony pedestal. The points which won him the decision were prompt and full reports, high gasoline and oil mileage and fewest repairs. His only replacement was a 10-cent commutator spring which he installed himself. </p> </div>  +
<div class="poem"> <p>The factory wired us $500 to outfit and start, with more to be sent when and where we ordered. We were told to spare no expense and to send tires, gasoline, and spare parts ahead for use wherever we thought best. Briscoe never had been West, but he knew that few cars ever had crossed the continent and that we would not have a pleasure trip, to say the least. Since I had previously lived in Nevada and California, it seemed like a homecoming for me, or I might have taken the trip more seriously. </p> </div>  +
<div class="poem"> <p>The family was not at home but a Chinaman cooked us a late meal, breaking out every few minutes with a chuckling laugh. He was quite confused when he couldn't find the key to our room, so we just pushed the dresser across the door and forgot about it. </p> </div>  +
T
<div class="poem"> <p>The fires were burning the coals were glowing,<br /> From all of our hearts affection was flowing,<br /> In honor of Him was our Christmas tree,<br /> Where the old homestead used to be. </p> </div>  +
C
<div class="poem"> <p>The five cars started the next morning, each driver accompanied by an observer who kept track of the credentials on the trip. Arrangements already had been made by the factory in cities along the routes for pictures to be taken when the cars arrived, and newspaper stories along the way were to provide more advertisement for the cars. Fred's itinerary took him through Michigan and Ohio to Cincinnati, west through Indiana and Illinois to St. Louis. Towns in these states were close enough together so he and his companion always could find accommodations, but finally the observer objected to not getting a bath every night and returned to Detroit. The factory sent another observer for the trip from St. Louis to Kansas City. </p> </div>  +
K
<div class="poem"> <p>The fragrancy of flowers of spring,<br /> While she to him did tightly cling,<br /> Came to us from the little Miss,<br /> Each time her lips he gave a kiss. </p> </div>  +
C
<div class="poem"> <p>The game enforces smirks; but we have seen<br /> The moon in lonely alleys make<br /> A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,<br /> And through all sound of gaiety and quest<br /> Have heard a kitten in the wilderness. </p> </div>  +