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[Illustration: Cascade Lake and Lake Tahoe]
THE LAKE OF THE SKY
LAKE TAHOE
IN THE HIGH
SIERRAS OF CALIFORNIA AND NEVADA
Its History, Indians, Discovery by Frémont, Legendary Lore, Various
Namings, Physical Characteristics, Glacial Phenomena, Geology, Single
Outlet, Automobile Routes, Historic Towns, Early Mining Excitements,
Steamer Ride, Mineral Springs, Mountain and Lake Resorts, Trail and
Camping Out Trips, Summer Residences, Fishing, Hunting, Flowers,
Birds, Animals, Trees, and Chaparral, with a Full Account of the Tahoe
National Forest, the Public Use of the Water of Lake Tahoe and Much
Other Interesting Matter
BY
GEORGE WHARTON JAMES
_Author of_
"Arizona, the Wonderland," "California, Romantic and Beautiful," "New
Mexico, the Land of the Delight Makers," "Utah, the Land of Blossoming
Valleys," "Quit Your Worrying," "Living the Radiant Life," etc.
_With a map, and sixty-five plates, including a folding panorama View_
L.C. PAGE & COMPANY BOSTON PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1915, BY EDITH E. FARNSWORTH
_All Rights Reserved_
TO ROBERT M. WATSON
(_To his friends "Bob"_)
Fearless Explorer, Expert Mountaineer,
Peerless Guide, Truthful Fisherman,
Humane Hunter, Delightful Raconteur,
True-hearted Gentleman,
Generous Communicator
of a large and varied Knowledge,
Brother to Man
and Beast and Devoted
Friend,
AND TO ANOTHER,
though younger brother of
the same craft
RICHARD MICHAELIS
These Pages are Cordially Dedicated
with the Author's High Esteem
and Affectionate Regards.
[Illustration: "Bob" Watson, Tahoe guide, at home, with his dog
Skookum John]
INTRODUCTION
California is proving itself more and more the wonderland of the
United States. Its hosts of annual visitors are increasing with
marvelous rapidity; its population is growing by accretions from the
other states faster than any other section in the civilized world.
The reasons are not far to seek. They may be summarized in five
words, viz., climate, topography, healthfulness, productiveness and
all-around liveableness. Its climate is already a catch word to the
nations; its healthfulness is attested by the thousands who have
come here sick and almost hopeless and who are now rugged, robust and
happy; its productiveness is demonstrated by the millions of dollars
its citizens annually receive for the thousands of car-loads (one
might almost say train-loads) of oranges, lemons, grape-fruit,
walnuts, almonds, peaches, figs, apricots, onions, potatoes, asparagus
and other fruits of its soil; and its all-around home qualities are
best evidenced by the growth, in two or three decades, of scores of
towns from a merely nominal population to five, ten, twenty, forty or
fifty thousand, and of the cities of San Francisco, Los Angeles and
Oakland to metropolises, the two former already claiming populations
of half a million or thereabouts.
As far as its topography, its scenic qualities, are concerned, the
world of tourists already has rendered any argument upon that line
unnecessary. It is already beginning to rival Switzerland, though that
Alpine land has crowded populations within a day's journey to draw
from. One has but to name Monterey, the Mt. Shasta region, Los
Angeles, San Diego and Coronado, the Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, the Big
Trees, the King and Kern River Divide, Mono Lake and a score of
other scenic regions in California to start tongues to wagging over
interesting reminiscences, whether it be in London, Paris, Berlin,
Madrid or Petrograd.
Books galore are being published to make California's charms better
known, and it has long seemed strange to me that no book has been
published on Lake Tahoe and its surrounding country of mountains,
forests, glacial valleys, lakes and canyons, for I am confident that
in one or two decades from now its circle of admirers and regular
visitors will include people from all over the civilized world, all of
whom will declare that it is incomparable as a lake resort, and that
its infinite variety of charm, delight and healthful allurement can
never adequately be told.
Discovered by the "Pathfinder" Frémont; described in the early days of
California history and literature by John Le Conte, Mark Twain, Thomas
Starr King, Ben C. Truman, and later by John Vance Cheney and others;
for countless centuries the fishing haunt of the peaceable Nevada
_Washoes_, who first called it Tahoe--High or Clear Water--and
of the California _Monos_; the home of many of their interesting
legends and folk-lore tales; occasionally the scene of fierce
conflicts between the defending Indians and those who would drive
them away, it early became the object of the jealous and inconsequent
squabbling of politicians. Its discoverer had named it Mountain Lake,
or Lake Bonpland, the latter name after the traveling and exploring
companion of Baron von Humboldt, whose name is retained in the
Humboldt River of Nevada, but when the first reasonably accurate
survey of its shores was made, John Bigler was the occupant of the
gubernatorial chair of the State of California and it was named after
him. Then, later, for purely political reasons, it was changed to
Tahoe, and finally back to Bigler, which name it still officially
retains, though of the thousands who visit it annually but a very
small proportion have ever heard that such a name was applied to it.
In turn, soon after its discovery, Tahoe became the scene of a mining
excitement that failed to "pan out," the home of vast logging and
lumber operations and the objective point to which several famous
"Knights of the Lash" drove world-noted men and women in swinging
Concord coaches. In summer it is the haunt of Nature's most dainty,
glorious, and alluring picturesqueness; in winter the abode, during
some days, of the Storm King with his cohorts of hosts of clouds,
filled with rain, hail, sleet and snow, of fierce winds, of dread
lightnings, of majestic displays of rudest power. Suddenly, after
having covered peak and slope, meadow and shore, with snow to a depth
of six, eight, ten or more feet, the Storm King retires and Solus
again reigns supreme. And then! ah, then is the time to see Lake Tahoe
and its surrounding country. The placid summer views are exquisite
and soul-stirring, but what of Tahoe now? The days and nights are free
from wind and frost, the sun tempers the cold and every hour is an
exhilaration. The American people have not yet learned, as have the
Europeans in the Alps, the marvelous delights and stimulations of the
winter in such a place as Lake Tahoe. But they will learn in time, and
though a prophet is generally without honor in his own country, I will
assume a role not altogether foreign, and venture the assertion that
I shall live to see the day when winter visitors to Lake Tahoe will
number more than those who will visit it throughout the whole of the
year (1914) in which I write. One of the surprises often expressed
by those I have met here who have wintered in the Alps is that no
provision is made for hotel accommodation during the winter at Lake
Tahoe.
To return, however, to the charms of Tahoe that are already known to
many thousands. Within the last two or three decades it has become the
increasingly popular Mecca of the hunter, sportsman, and fisherman;
the natural haunt of the thoughtful and studious lover of God's great
and varied out-of-doors, and, since fashionable hotels were built, the
chosen resort of many thousands of the wealthy, pleasure-loving and
luxurious. What wonder that there should be a growing desire on
the part of the citizens of the United States--and especially of
California and Nevada--together with well-informed travelers from all
parts of the world, for larger knowledge and fuller information about
Lake Tahoe than has hitherto been available.
To meet this laudable desire has been my chief incitement in the
preparation of the following pages, but I should be untrue to my own
devotion to Lake Tahoe, which has extended over a period of more than
thirty years, were I to ignore the influence the Lake's beauty has had
over me, and the urge it has placed within me. Realizing and feeling
these emotions I have constantly asked with Edward Rowland Sill:
What can I for such a world give back again?
And my only answer has been, and is, this:
Could I only hint the beauty--
Some least shadow of the beauty,
Unto men!
In looking over the files of more of less ephemeral literature, as
well as the records of the explorations of early days, I have been
astonished at the rich treasures of scientific and descriptive
literature that have Lake Tahoe as their object. Not the least service
this unpretentious volume will accomplish is the gathering together of
these little-known jewels.
It will be noticed that I have used the word _Sierran_ rather
than _Alpine_ throughout these pages. Why not? Why should the
writer, describing the majestic, the glorious, the sublime of the
later-formed mountain ranges of earth, designate them by a term coined
for another and far-away range?
I would have the reader, however, be careful to pronounce it
accurately. It is not _Sy-eer-an_, but _See-ehr-ran_, almost
as if one were advising another to "See Aaron," the brother of Moses.
Tahoe is not _Teh-o_, nor is it _Tah-ho_, nor _Tah-o_.
The Washoe Indians, from whom we get the name, pronounce it as if it
were one syllable _Tao_, like a Chinese name, the "a" having the
broad sound _ah_ of the Continent.
Likewise _Tallac_ is not pronounced with the accent on the last
syllable (as is generally heard), but _Tal['x]-ac_.
While these niceties of pronunciation are not of vast importance, they
preserve to us the intonations of the original inhabitants, who, as
far as we know, were the first human beings to gaze upon the face of
this ever-glorious and beautiful Lake.
When Mark Twain and Thomas Starr King visited Tahoe it was largely in
its primitive wildness, though logging operations for the securing of
timber for the mines of Virginia City had been going on for some time
and had led to the settlement at Glenbrook (where four great saw mills
were in constant operation so long as weather permitted), and
the stage-road from Placerville to Virginia City demanded
stopping-stations, as Myers, Yanks, Rowlands and Lakeside.
But to-day, while the commercial operations have largely ceased, the
scenic attractions of Lake Tahoe and its region have justified the
erection of over twenty resorts and camps, at least two of them
rivaling in extent and elaborateness of plant any of the gigantic
resort hotels of either the Atlantic or Pacific coasts, the others
varying in size and degree, according to the class of patronage they
seek. That these provisions for the entertainment of travelers, yearly
visitors, and health seekers will speedily increase with the years
there can be no doubt, for there is but one Lake Tahoe, and its lovers
will ultimately be legion. Already, also, it has begun to assert
itself as a place of summer residence. Fifteen years ago private
residences on Lake Tahoe might have been enumerated on the fingers of
the two hands; now they number as many hundreds, and the sound of
the hammer and saw is constantly heard, and dainty villas, bungalows,
cottages, and rustic homes are springing up as if by magic.
_Then_ Lake Tahoe was comparatively hard to reach. _Now_,
the trains of the _Southern Pacific_ and the _Lake Tahoe
Railway and Transportation Company_ deposit one on the very edge of
the Lake easier and with less personal exertion than is required to
go to and from any large metropolitan hotel in one city to a similar
hotel in another city.
It is almost inevitable that in such a book as this there should be
some repetition. Just as one sees the same peaks and lakes, shore-line
and trees from different portions of the Lake--though, of course, at
slightly or widely differing angles--so in writing, the attention of
the reader naturally is called again and again to the same scenes. But
this book is written not so much with an eye to its literary quality,
as to afford the visitor to Lake Tahoe--whether contemplative, actual,
or retrospective--a truthful and comprehensive account and description
of the Lake and its surroundings.
It will be observed that in many places I have capitalized the common
noun Lake. Whenever this appears it signifies Lake Tahoe--the chief of
all the lakes of the Sierras.
While it is very delightful to sit on the veranda or in the swinging
seats of the Tavern lawn, or at the choice nooks of all the resorts
from Tahoe City completely around the Lake, it is not possible to
write a book on Lake Tahoe there. One must get out and feel the
bigness of it all; climb its mountains, follow its trout streams;
ride or walk or push one's way through its leafy coverts; dwell in the
shade of its forests; row over its myriad of lakes; study its geology,
before he can know or write about Tahoe.
This is what I have done.
And this is what I desire to urge most earnestly upon my reader. Don't
lounge around the hotels all the time. Get all you want of that kind
of recreation; then "go in" for the more strenuous fun of wandering
and climbing. Go alone or in company, afoot or horseback, only go!
Thus will Tahoe increase the number of its devoted visitants and my
object in writing these pages be accomplished.
[Illustration: Signature]
George Wharton James
TAHOE TAVERN, June 1914.
[Illustration: PANORAMA FROM SOUTH END FALLEN LEAF LAKE.
Captions along top edge of illustration: Angora Peak--Glen
Alpine--Mt. Tallac--Rubicon Peaks--Fallen Leaf Lake]
[Illustration: PANORAMA FROM SOUTH END FALLEN LEAF LAKE.
Captions along top edge of illustration: Mt. Tallac--Rubicon
Peaks--Fallen Leaf Lake--Lake Tahoe]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
Introduction
I Why "the Lake of the Sky"?
II Frémont and the Discovery of Lake Tahoe
III The Indians of Lake Tahoe
IV Indian Legends of the Tahoe Region
V The Various Names of Lake Tahoe
VI John Le Conte's Physical Studies of Lake Tahoe
VII How Lake Tahoe Was Formed
VIII The Glacial History of Lake Tahoe
IX The Lesser Lakes of the Tahoe Region and How They Were Formed
X Donner Lake and Its Tragic History
XI Lake Tahoe and the Truckee River
XII By Rail to Lake Tahoe
XIII The Wishbone Automobile Route to and Around Lake Tahoe
XIV Tahoe Tavern
XV Trail Trips in the Tahoe Region
To Watson's Peak and Lake
To Squaw Valley, Granite Chief Peak, Five Lakes
and Deer Park Springs
To Ellis Peak
XVI Camping Out Trips in the Tahoe Region
To Hell Hole and the Rubicon River
XVII Historic Tahoe Towns
XVIII By Steamer Around Lake Tahoe
XIX Deer Park Springs
XX Rubicon Springs
XXI Emerald Bay and Camp
XXII Al-Tahoe
XXIII Glen Alpine Springs
XXIV Fallen Leaf Lake and Its Resorts
XXV Lakeside Park
XXVI Glenbrook and Marlette Lake
XXVII Carnelian Bay and Tahoe Country Club
XXVIII Fishing in the Lakes of the Tahoe Region
XXIX Hunting at Lake Tahoe
XXX The Flowers of the Tahoe Region
XXXI The Chaparral of the Tahoe Region
XXXII How to Distinguish the Trees of the Tahoe Region
XXXIII The Birds and Animals of the Tahoe Region
XXXIV The Squaw Valley Mining Excitement
XXXV The Frémont Howitzer and Lake Tahoe
XXXVI The Mount Rose Observatory
XXXVII Lake Tahoe in Winter _Written by Dr. J.E. Church, Jr.,
University of Nevada_.
XXXVIII Lake Tahoe as a Summer Residence
XXXIX The Tahoe National Forest
XL Public Use of the Waters of Lake Tahoe
APPENDIX
A Mark Twain at Lake Tahoe
B Mark Twain and the Forest Rangers
C Thomas Starr King at Lake Tahoe
D Joseph LeConte at Lake Tahoe
E John Vance Cheney at Lake Tahoe
F The Resorts of Lake Tahoe
[Illustration: TAHOE TAVERN, LAKE TAHOE, CALIF.]
[Illustration: STEAMER TAHOE OFF CAVE ROCK, NEVADA SIDE, LAKE TAHOE]
THE LAKE OF THE SKY
LAKE TAHOE
CHAPTER I
WHY "THE LAKE OF THE SKY"?
Lake Tahoe is the largest lake at its altitude--twenty-three miles
long by thirteen broad, 6225 feet above the level of the sea--with but
one exception in the world. Then, too, it closely resembles the sky
in its pure and perfect color. One often experiences, on looking
down upon it from one of its many surrounding mountains, a feeling of
surprise, as if the sky and earth had somehow been reversed and he was
looking down upon the sky instead of the earth.
And, further, Lake Tahoe so exquisitely mirrors the purity of the sky;
its general atmosphere is so perfect, that one feels it is peculiarly
akin to the sky.
Mark Twain walked to Lake Tahoe in the early sixties, from Carson
City, carrying a couple of blankets and an ax. He suggests that his
readers will find it advantageous to go on horseback. It was a hot
summer day, not calculated to make one of his temperament susceptible
to fine scenic impressions, yet this is what he says:
We plodded on, two or three hours longer, and at last the Lake
burst upon us--a noble sheet of blue water lifted six thousand
three hundred feet above the level of the sea, and walled in by
a rim of snow-clad mountain peaks that towered aloft full three
thousand feet higher still. It was a vast oval, and one would
have to use up eighty or a hundred good miles in traveling around
it. As it lay there with the shadows of the mountains brilliantly
photographed upon its still surface I thought it must surely be
the fairest picture the whole earth affords!
And there you have it! Articulate or inarticulate, something like this
is what every one thinks when he first sees Tahoe, and the oftener
he sees it, and the more he knows it the more grand and glorious it
becomes. It is immaterial that there are lakes perched upon higher
mountain shelves, and that one or two of them, at equal or superior
altitudes, are larger in size. Tahoe ranks in the forefront both for
altitude and size, and in beauty and picturesqueness, majesty and
sublimity, there is no mountain body of water on this earth that is
its equal.
Why such superlatives in which world-travelers generally--in fact,
invariably--agree? There must be some reason for it. Nay, there are
many. To thousands the chief charm of Lake Tahoe is in the exquisite,
rare, and astonishing colors of its waters. They are an endless source
of delight to all who see them, no matter how insensible they may be,
ordinarily, to the effect of color. There is no shade of blue or
green that cannot here be found and the absolutely clear and pellucid
quality of the water enhances the beauty and perfection of the tone.
One minister of San Francisco thus speaks of the coloring:
When the day is calm there is a ring around the Lake extending
from a hundred yards to a mile from the shore which is the most
brilliant green; within this ring there is another zone of the
deepest blue, and this gives place to royal purple in the
distance; and the color of the Lake changes from day to day and
from hour to hour. It is never twice the same--sometimes the blue
is lapis lazuli, then it is jade, then it is purple, and when the
breeze gently ruffles the surface it is silvery-gray. The Lake
has as many moods as an April day or a lovely woman. But its
normal appearance is that of a floor of lapis lazuli set with a
ring of emerald.
The depth of the water, varying as it does from a few feet to nearly
or over 2000 feet, together with the peculiarly variable bottom of the
Lake, have much to do with these color effects. The lake bottom on a
clear wind-quiet day can be clearly seen except in the lowest depths.
Here and there are patches of fairly level area, covered either with
rocky bowlders, moss-covered rocks, or vari-colored sands. Then,
suddenly, the eye falls upon a ledge, on the yonder side of which the
water suddenly becomes deep blue. That ledge may denote a submarine
precipice, a hundred, five hundred, a thousand or more feet deep, and
the changes caused by such sudden and awful depths are beyond verbal
description.
Many of the softer color-effects are produced by the light colored
sands that are washed down into the shallower waters by the mountain
streams. These vary considerably, from almost white and cream, to
deep yellow, brown and red. Then the mosses that grow on the massive
bowlders, rounded, square and irregular, of every conceivable size,
that are strewn over the lake bottom, together with the equally varied
rocks of the shore-line, some of them towering hundreds of feet above
the water--these have their share in the general enchantment and
revelry of color.
Emerald Bay and Meek's Bay are justly world-famed for their
triumphs of color glories, for here there seem to be those peculiar
combinations of varied objects, and depths, from the shallowest to the
deepest, with the variations of colored sands and rocks on the bottom,
as well as queer-shaped and colored bowlders lying on the vari-colored
sands, that are not found elsewhere. The waving of the water gives a
mottled effect surpassing the most delicate and richly-shaded marbles
and onyxes. Watered-silks of the most perfect manufacture are but
childish and puerile attempts at reproduction, and finest Turkish
shawls, Bokhara rugs or Arab sheiks' dearest-prized Prayer Carpets are
but glimmering suggestions of what the Master Artist himself has here
produced.
There are not the glowing colors of sunrises and sunsets; but they are
equally sublime, awe-inspiring and enchanting. There are Alpine-glows,
and peach-blooms and opalescent fires, gleams and subtle suggestions
that thrill moment by moment, and disappear as soon as seen, only to
be followed by equally beautiful, enchanting and surprising effects,
and with it all, is a mobility, a fluidity, a rippling, flowing,
waving, tossing series of effects that belong only to enchanted
water--water kissed into glory by the sun and moon, lured into softest
beauty by the glamour of the stars, and etheralized by the quiet and
subtle charms of the Milky Way, and of the Suns, Comets and Meteors
that the eye of man has never gazed upon.
There is one especially color-blessed spot. It is in Grecian Bay,
between Rubicon Point and Emerald Bay. Here the shore formation is
wild and irregular, with deep holes, majestic, grand and rugged rocks
and some trees and shrubbery. Near the center of this is a deep hole,
into which one of the mountain streams runs over a light-colored sandy
bottom where the water is quite shallow. Around are vari-colored trees
and shrubs, and these objects and conditions all combine to produce
a mystic revelation of color gradations and harmonies, from emerald
green and jade to the deepest amethystine or ultra-marine. When the
wind slightly stirs the surface and these dancing ripples catch the
sunbeams, one by one, in changeful and irregular measure, the eyes are
dazzled with iridescences and living color-changes covering hundreds
of acres, thousands of them, as exquisite, glorious and dazzling
as revealed in the most perfect peacock's tail-feathers, or
humming-bird's throat. Over such spots one sits in his boat
spell-bound, color-entranced, and the ears of his soul listen to color
music as thrilling, as enchanting as melodies by Foster and Balfe,
minuets by Mozart and Haydn, arias by Handel, nocturnes and serenades
by Chopin and Schumann, overtures by Rossini, massive choruses
and chorals by Handel, Haydn and Mendelssohn, fugues by Bach, and
concertos by Beethoven.
The blue alone is enough to impress it forever upon the observant
mind. Its rich, deep, perfect splendor is a constant surprise. One
steps from his hotel, not thinking of the Lake--the blue of it rises
through the trees, over the rocks, _everywhere_, with startling
vividness. Surely never before was so large and wonderful a lake of
inky blue, sapphire blue, ultra-marine, amethystine richness spread
out for man's enjoyment. And while the summer months show this in all
its smooth placidity and quietude, there seems to be a deeper blue,
a richer shade take possession of the waves in the fall, or when its
smoothness is rudely dispelled by the storms of winter and spring.
So much for the color!
Yet there are those who are devoted to Lake Tahoe who seldom speak
of the coloring of its waters. Perhaps they are fascinated by its
fishing. This has become as world-famed as its colors. Thousands,
hundreds of thousands, of the most gamey and delicately-flavored trout
are caught here annually, both by experts and amateurs. The Federal
and State governments, and private individuals yearly stock the main
Lake and the hundred and one smaller lakes of the region with the
finest species of trout obtainable, and the results fully justify the
labor and expense.
To the mountain-lover the Tahoe region is an earthly paradise. One
summer I climbed over twenty peaks, each over nine thousand feet
high, and all gave me glimpses of Tahoe. Some of them went up close to
11,000 feet.
Are you an admirer of Alpine, nay, _High Sierran_, trees? You
will find all the well-known, and several rare and entirely new
species in this region. This field alone could well occupy a student,
or a mere amateur tree-lover a whole summer in rambling, climbing,
collecting and studying.
And as for geology--the Grand Canyon of Arizona has afforded me
nature reading material for nearly three decades and I am delighted
by reading it yet. Still I am free to confess the uplift of these
high-sweeping Sierras, upon whose lofty summits
The high-born, beautiful snow comes down,
Silent and soft as the terrible feet
Of Time on the mosses of ruins;
the great glacial _cirques_, with their stupendous precipices
from which the vast ice-sheets started, which gouged, smoothed,
planed and grooved millions of acres of solid granite into lake-beds,
polished domes and canyon walls and carried along millions of tons of
rock debris to make scores of lateral and terminal moraines; together
with the evidences of uplift, subsidence and volcanic outpouring of
diorite and other molten rocks, afford one as vast and enjoyable a
field for contemplation as any ordinary man can find in the Grand
Canyon.
But why compare them? There is no need to do so. Each is supreme in
its own right; different yet compelling, unlike yet equally engaging.
Then there are the ineffable climate of summer, the sunrises, the
sunsets, the Indians, the flowers, the sweet-singing birds, the
rowing, in winter the snow-shoeing, the camping-out, and, alas! I must
say it--the hunting.
Why man will hunt save for food is beyond me. I deem it that every
living thing has as much right to its life as I have to mine, but I
find I am in a large minority among a certain class that finds at Lake
Tahoe its hunting Mecca. Deer abound, and grouse and quail are quite
common, and in the summer of 1913 I knew of four bears being shot.
Is it necessary to present further claims for Lake Tahoe? Every new
hour finds a new charm, every new day calls for the louder praise,
every added visit only fastens the chains of allurement deeper. For
instance, this is the day of athletic maids, as well as men. We find
them everywhere. Very well! Lake Tahoe is the physical culturist's
heaven.
In any one of its score of camps he may sleep out of doors, on the
porch, out under the pines, by the side of the Lake or in his tent
or cottage with open doors and windows. At sunrise, or later, in his
bathing suit, or when away from too close neighbors, clothed, as
dear old Walt Whitman puts it, "in the natural and religious idea of
nakedness," the cold waters of the Lake invite him to a healthful and
invigorating plunge, with a stimulating and vivifying swim. A swift
rub down with a crash towel, a rapid donning of rude walking togs and
off, instanter, for a mile climb up one of the trails, a scramble over
a rocky way to some hidden Sierran lake, some sheltered tree nook,
some elevated outlook point, and, after feasting the eyes on the
glories of incomparable and soul-elevating scenes, he returns to camp,
eats a hearty breakfast, with a clear conscience, a vigorous appetite
aided by hunger sauce, guided by the normal instincts of taste, all of
which have been toned up by the morning's exercise--what wonder that
such an one radiates Life and Vim, Energy and Health, Joy and Content.
Do you know what the lure must be when a busy man, an active man,
an alert man, a man saturated with the nervous spirit of American
commercial life, sits down in one of the seats overlooking the Lake,
or spreads out his full length upon the grass, or on the beds of
Sierran moss, which make a deliciously restful cushion, and stays
there! He does nothing; doesn't even look consciously at the blue
waters of the Lake, on the ineffable blue of the sky, or the rich
green of the trees or the glory of the flowers--he simply sits or
sprawls or lies and, though the influence is different, the effect is
the same as that expressed in the old hymn:
My soul would ever stay,
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing itself away,
To everlasting bliss.
There's the idea! Calm, rest, peace, bliss. Those are what you get
at Lake Tahoe. And with them come renewed health, increased vigor,
strengthened courage, new power to go forth and seize the problems
of life, with a surer grasp, a more certain touch, a more clearly and
definitely assured end.
There are some peculiarities of Lake Tahoe that should be noted,
although they are of a very different character from the foolish and
sensational statements that used to be made in the early days of its
history among white men. A serious advertising folder years ago sagely
informed the traveling public as follows: "A strange phenomenon in
connection with the Truckee River is the fact that the Lake from which
it flows (Tahoe) has no inlet, so far as any one knows, and the lake
into which it flows (Pyramid Lake, Nevada), has no outlet."
[Illustration: MT. TALLAC IN STORM. LAKE TAHOE, CAL.]
[Illustration: THE PICTURESQUE TRUCKER RIVER, NEAR LAKE TAHOE]
How utterly absurd this is. Lake Tahoe has upward of a hundred feeders,
among which may be named Glenbrook, the Upper Truckee, Fallen Leaf
Creek, Eagle Creek, Meek's Creek, General Creek, McKinney Creek, Madden
Creek, Blackwood Creek, and Ward Creek, all of these being constant
streams, pouring many thousands of inches of water daily into the Lake
even at the lowest flow, and in the snow-melting and rainy seasons
sending down their floods in great abundance.
To many it is a singular fact that Lake Tahoe never freezes over
in winter. This is owing to its great depth, possibly aided by the
ruffling and consequent disturbance of its surface by the strong
northeasterly winter winds. The vast body of water, with such
tremendous depth, maintains too high a temperature to be affected
by surface reductions in temperature. Experiments show that the
temperature in summer on the surface is 68 degrees Fahr. At 100 feet
55 degrees; at 300 feet 46 degrees; at 1506 feet 39 degrees.
Twenty years ago the thermometer at Lake Tahoe registered 18 degrees
F. _below zero_, and in 1910 it was 10 degrees F. below. Both
these years Emerald Bay froze over. Perhaps the reason for this is
found in the fact that the entrance to the bay is very shallow, and
that this meager depth is subject to change in surface temperature,
becoming warmer in summer and colder in winter. This narrow ridge once
solidly frozen, the warmth of the larger body of water would have no
effect upon the now-confined smaller body of Emerald Bay. Once a firm
hold taken by the ice, it would slowly spread its fingers and aid in
the reduction of the temperature beyond, first producing slush-ice,
and then the more solid crystal ice, until the whole surface would be
frozen solid.
An explanation of the non-freezing of the main Lake has been offered
by several local "authorities" as owing to the presence of a number of
hot springs either in the bed of the Lake or near enough to its shores
materially to affect its temperature. But I know of few or no "facts"
to justify such an explanation.
When I first visited Lake Tahoe over thirty years ago I was seriously
and solemnly informed by several (who evidently believed their own
assertions) that, owing to the great elevation of the Lake, the
density of the water, etc., etc., it was impossible for any one to
swim in Lake Tahoe. I was assured that several who had tried had
had narrow escapes from drowning. While the utter absurdity of the
statements was self-evident I decided I would give myself a practical
demonstration. To be perfectly safe I purchased a clothes-line, then,
hiring a row-boat, went as far away from shore as was desirable,
undressed, tied one end of the rope around the seat, the other around
my body, and--jumped in. I did not sink. Far from it. I was never more
stimulated to swim in my life. My ten or fifteen feet dive took me
into colder water than I had ever experienced before and I felt as
if suddenly, and at one fell swoop, I were flayed alive. Gasping for
breath I made for the boat, climbed in, and in the delicious glow that
came with the reaction decided that it was quite as important to
feel of the temperature of lake water before you leaped, as it was
to render yourself safe from sinking by anchoring yourself to a
clothesline.
But I would not have my reader assume from the recital of this
experience that Lake Tahoe is always too cold for swimming. Such is
not the case. Indeed in June, July, August and September the swimming
is delightful to those who enjoy "the cool, silver shock of the plunge
in a pool's living water," that Browning's _Saul_ so vividly
pictures for us. Hundreds of people--men, women and children--in
these months indulge in the daily luxury, especially in the coves and
beaches where the water is not too deep, and the sun's ardent rays woo
them into comfortable warmth.
After a warm day's tramp or ride over the trails, too, there is
nothing more delicious than a plunge into one of the lakes. A short,
crisp swim, a vigorous rub down, and a resumption of the walk or ride
and one feels _fit_ enough to conquer a world.
It can be imagined, too, what a lively scene the Lake presents in the
height of the season, when, from the scores of hotels, resorts, camps,
private residences, fishermen's camps, etc.; fishing-boats, row-boats,
launches, motor-boats, and yachts ply to and fro in every direction,
unconsciously vying with each other to attract the eye of the
onlooker. The pure blue of the Lake, with its emerald ring and varying
shades of color, added to by the iridescent gleam that possesses the
surface when it is slightly rippled by a gentle breeze, contrasting
with the active, vivid, moving boats of differing sizes, splashed with
every conceivable color by the hats and costumes of the occupants--all
these conspire to demand the eye, to enchain the attention, to
harmlessly hypnotize, as it were, those who sit on the shore and look.
And when is added to this the spontaneous shouts and shrieks of
delight that the feminine "fishermen" give when they are successful
and make a catch, the half-frenzied and altogether delighted
announcements thereof, the whole-hearted or the half-jealous,
half-envious return-congratulations, while now and then the large
steamer, _Tahoe_, or an elegant private yacht, as the Tevis's
_Consuelo_, crosses the scene, one may partially but never fully
conceive the joy and radiant happiness, the satisfaction and content
that Lake Tahoe inspires and produces.
Lake Tahoe covers about 190 square miles, and its watershed is about
500 square miles. The boundary line between Nevada and California
strikes the Lake on the northern border at the 120th meridian, and
a point at that spot is called the State Line Point. The latitude
parallel of this northern entrance is 39° 15". The boundary line goes
due south until about 38° 58" and then strikes off at an oblique angle
to the southeast, making the southern line close to Lakeside Park, a
few miles east of the 120th meridian.