Pedal and Path: Across the Continent Awheel and AfootThayer, George B. (George Burton)
History
Pedal and Path: Across the Continent Awheel and Afoot
Thayer, George B. (George Burton)
Bicycle touring; United States -- Description and travel
of them I rode down without mishap.
The next day after I left the valley, just before dark, while riding
over a smooth, level strip of road, the felloe on the little wheel
broke. The butt end of an eight-penny nail was sticking through the
tire just at the point of fracture, but whether that was the cause
of the breakage or not I cannot say. But this I did know, the machine
was apparently useless,--forty-five miles from any railroad, and how
many miles from a blacksmith's shop I had not an idea. But with the
use of a piece of hoop iron and some wire that I brought all the way
from Indiana, where the old rubber tire had made the only previous
trouble with the machine, I bound up the felloe and it carried me
thirty miles, till the next noon, when a blacksmith riveted a piece
on, and made the wheel strong again.
The one hundred and sixty-two miles from the Yosemite back to
Sacramento were made in three days. On the way I dropped the machine
and ran a quarter of a mile across a wheat field to see a header
and thresher at work. It was drawn by eighteen mules, working six
abreast, and cut a swarth nearly if not quite ten feet wide. The tops
of the wheat as they fell were carried up on a cloth roller into the
threshing part of the machine which worked as the machine was drawn
along. Four or five men rode upon the machine, doing various work,
but the result of the whole was, the wheat was cut, threshed, run into
bags, and the bags tied up and thrown off, as the whole establishment
went along on two immense wheels. Any farmer can judge of the great
number of acres of wheat such a machine will harvest in a day.
Irrigation is carried on quite extensively here, but the source of a
great part of the water supply is ordinary or bored wells. Some farms
have twenty-five or thirty wells, and at each well is a wind-mill. The
wind blows almost invariably from the west, every afternoon, and
the number of revolving wind-mills seen over the level plains of the
Sacramento Valley is astonishing. They are as thick as the chimneys
in a city, and when they are all in motion, hundreds of them in all
directions, the sight is quite novel to an Easterner. An ordinary
good supply of water is had at a depth of less than twenty feet,
but let the well be carried down fifty or sixty feet and a source
of water is found that is inexhaustible, the size of the bore or the
quantity pumped up not having the slightest effect upon the clearness
or the supply of the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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