The Slower Road

Continuing from Sunday …

“I left Wadsworth on the 25th and made Mirage the same day, a distance of twenty-five miles. After leaving Wadsworth, the first six miles was through deep, heavy sand, the wheels sank into it about six inches, which made hard pulling for the horse. I also had a heavier load than usual: there was a sack of barley for the horse, and a sack of bran for the cow, each 100 pounds; ten gallons of water, 85 pounds; in all 285 pounds; besides my common outfit, such as clothing, bedding, provisions, and other things, say about 200 pounds more. My carriage is light, about 300 pounds, making a total of about 800 pounds. Fanny had to haul this through six miles of sand. I had been informed of this heavy road before starting.

“About nine o’clock I reached the desert; just as I was reaching the bottom of the bluff on the desert, the express train from the west passed me. I stopped and gave the horse a can of water, but did not give any to the cow although she wanted some. About two miles farther we came to a second station; I stopped and looked around but saw no one. I looked for the water tank and soon found it below the surface of the ground; I lifted the lid and found there was water; I got a pail and tested it and found it fair. I gave both horse and cow as much as they would drink and filled my empty can and then went on; it was about ten in the forenoon.

“I had not gone much farther, when on looking round saw the freight train from the west approaching. All hands on the trains knew me, as they had bought my milk. At this time I was traveling on the great desert, a better road I never saw; a hard smooth surface, rather too hard for Bessie’s feet. I am now on the left of the railroad, my direction is to the east. In front of me are some buildings, which proved to be salt works. About three o’clock I met the freight train from the east, and at four reached Hot Springs.

“Here I made a stop and introduced myself to the agent, showing him my card in regard to water. He told me that I could have all I wished. I gave the cattle water and grain and refilled my cans, intending to do so at every station. It was fair water, brought from Wadsworth from the Truckee river. ‘Where are the Hot Springs?’ I asked of the depot master. Pointing, he answered, ‘They are yonder. You will see where to turn in at the trail, it is only a short distance to your right.’ I went to see the springs and found a wet, dirty, nasty, mud-hole. The water was warm, not hot as I had supposed. I thought myself sold, as others before had been on this place.

“I traveled farther and about six o’clock met another train from the east, but could not see much express about it, as stops were made at every station, running at the rate of a mile in three minutes.”

Tomorrow: Mr. Johnson reaches Mirage …

Continuing on from yesterday’s post …

“On the morning of the 25th [of August 1882], I broke camp early and traveled until I came to some grass where I stopped and gave the cattle a good feed from it, after which I made for Wadsworth.

“Wadsworth is an old town, and when the emigrants used to come overland through this great American desert, the sight of this place was most cheery after weeks of hard traveling. Since the building of the railroad the town has considerably improved; there is a depot on a large scale and the town has a population of twelve hundred. The railroad corporation has established a machine shop here for the repair of their rolling stock, which gives employment to many hands.

“It has two hotels, several stores, and many saloons; drinking and gambling are very common in this place. In an interview with the superintendent of the railroad about my route, he advised me to buy two ten-gallon cans, fill them with water and carry them with me, also giving me introductions to the station agents on the road, asking for water for my cattle. This was magnanimous; for hundreds of miles, water is transported by the railroad and deposited in tanks at the several stations from Wadsworth to Ogden for drinking and cooking purposes.”

As promised in yesterday’s post: Mr. Johnson’s description of Reno, Nevada:

“Reno is one of the most promising towns in the county. It is situated on a high elevation, on the Central Pacific railroad, in the county of Washoe, State of Nevada. As you enter the town from the west, you pass through a broad street; on your right is the railroad and on your left are many fine houses. In front is the depot, a large fine building, comprising both depot and hotel. About twenty rods from the depot there is a sharp bend in the road to the right, which carries you over the railroad and then it bends again sharply to the left. On the right of this road are two long brick blocks, which contain a number of stores in which all kinds of merchandise can be found for sale — dry goods or wet, hardware or soft, whiskies and lemons, etc. All teams have to pass this point and in passing I stopped, there was plenty of room to give others the right of way.

“Having a time table in my pocket I looked at it, and found that the morning trains had all passed and the trains in the afternoon were late. There are but four trains per day over this road — two from the west and two from the east, one express and one freight each way. You are able to see but a short distance up or down the road, the roads being so winding. The road lies between the railroad and the river mostly, especially in the canyon. In front is a bend in the river, there I am obliged to cross the railroad to my left. I went on but a short distance before I re-crossed — being now between the railroad and river. Going farther, I came to another sharp bend in the river to my left; here I crossed the railroad and my route then lay over the mountain.

“Having crossed over I went into camp and fed my cattle with grain. I made up my bed and lay down to rest but could not sleep as there were too many wild animals around for comfort. I kept a good fire burning all night.”

To be continued …

When we last checked in with Mr. Johnson, he was saying goodbye to the friends he’d met in Reno and heading back out on the road …

“I left Reno on the 24 of August [1882], and reached Wadsworth on the 25th, a distance of thirty-four miles. It was about four o’clock in the morning when I left. In journeying to Wadsworth, we follow the railroad and the Truckee river — river on your right and railroad on your left, with carriage road on both sides of railroad right and left. The river is very crooked, especially as it winds through the canyon. Both rail and carriage roads are on the north side of the river. The railroad crowds the highway in many places. The river here takes a heavy bend to the left close up to the bluff. The old trail used to be between the river and the bluff; the railroad took possession of the bluff, throwing the carriage road more on the mountain; at another place, where the river ran close to the bluffs the railroad was obliged to cut back into the bluff to make room for the highway. This cost the railway company a large sum of money, and it may yet cost them much more. This is a dangerous place and should there ever be a collision in this narrow pass, the cars would surely be thrown into the river and prove a complete wreck.”

Tomorrow, Mr. Johnson backtracks a bit and gives us a description of the town of Reno …

… “About 6 p.m., there were a large number of the citizens of the town around, asking me many questions, all appeared anxious about our journey. One said, ‘Friend traveler, when do you leave us?’ ‘I propose to leave tomorrow morning, early.’ ‘Since your arrival, and knowing your intentions, being obliged to remain here on account of your cow, you have given us something to think and talk about when you have gone. This is a new and wonderful undertaking; a man of your age, journeying from ocean to ocean, from California to Massachusetts, with a horse, carriage, cow in the rear, and dog jumping in and out of the carriage at pleasure, and yourself a man of sixty-five years, or thereabouts. I repeat, it is a wonderful undertaking. I, for one, will daily look in the papers to learn of your whereabouts; I hope and pray that you may be safely carried through; you will need a strong arm of protection, and hope you will be protected night and day. Stranger, you appear to be a man of strong nerve; if you falter in the least you certainly will fail in this undertaking.’

“A man in the crowd sang out, ‘Three cheers for the man from California going east to Massachusetts,’ which were given with a will. ‘Strangers to me you all were, but now friends. On my arrival I at once made for a blacksmith’s shop, so anxious was I to get shoes on the feet of my cow. On my way I had tried to get her shod, but could not. I was told at Webber’s Lake that here I could get her shod. Therefore, I was anxious to reach this place. Now she has iron shoes on all her feet, and I hope she will be able to wear them out. Tomorrow morning I intend to leave you. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe your sympathies are with me. I believe this, for you have been kind to me and befriended me in many ways. To you, stranger, in particular I feel grateful, and I am sure my cattle are, for the grass you so kindly offered me for them. There is another person to whom I wish to express my gratitude, but I do not see him here, I mean the depot master, for allowing me to sell my milk to passengers on the passing trains, to him I give my thanks. And thanks also to you all, farewell.”