The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 18, 1897, Page 28

ide tne bicyel 1 ou are town as a cycling center. B:fore starting into the country look | well to the condition of ase this article may furaish gestions, provided you are * or ambitious to become " does not ride for | easure—he chases records. His chief n life is to cover a certain number of n a little less than s given number minutes. Like a will o’ the wisp the | record flits before him, and to grasp it, | that every nut is tight, that the tires are of tie proper firmness, that sufficient oil has been applied, and above all have the chain well lubricatéd. With these essen- tials attended to there's little danger of annoying delays. Making repairs by the roadside is simple, theoretically, but in practice is not conducive ‘to serenity of temper. And don't forget'your shoes. For tour- | ing they should come high enough to just cover the ankle-joirt. - There is dust THE but for a brief | on of an b s the cou: 3 to be yeling world hanging t songsters? to note these od fellow, narage his wonla sts of wheel- tue even tho ho ride simply for en- yment would take less interest in the importance. be no rac and 1 do so princi- highest ilarating more or less time at 1 of leisurely spins ional trips to San degree moder: recreation. com throug Leandro or Haywards, in many months, a journey even so far as Travel ¢ monoton los of ten the bicy . y relegated to Now this is all wrong. The cycling se: son is here atead of time this year. t your wteel and prepare to read- ngs as to the la Come with me on which wiil Perhaps when you zbandone the beaten paths bec once atgractive and in nine ges of this badly paved, top-tilted | and perhaps, once | o | the fa: | to enjoy the varied beauties of Lake Cha- | tle whitewashed cottage, bot or the nearer by loveliness of Laundry Farm. It’s a warm day, but there’s sure to be some shade, s0 let us bave a look a: Lake | Chabot and the Castro Valley. The dam at Leke Chabot is only two miles from San Leandro as the crow flies, and he does fly here sometimes. Just at the basze of the little trianguiar town square, turn to the left into Estudillo avenue, a splendid street, straight as an arrow anc lined on either side with lofty locust trees, their branches almost inter- lacing. At the end of the avenue is a lit- RIDE ALONG LAKE CHABOT. to be kept out and maybe some bard| knocks to be averted. We will not go to the Cliff, nor through | the Presidio, nor to Ingleside. These are all old familiar places. Of the Mission road the least said the better—it is steep and neverin good condition. Although the bay road, whieh winds in long curves | arcund the shallow waters of the western shore, is ceriainly picturesque it is also rather rough and is guarded by the for- midable five-wile hill. If you are a strong rider and feel that duty calls you to San Jose or any of the intermediate towns take tie bay road. If you don’t want to get *‘that tired feeling” at the beginning of your trip take the train to Milbrae. From this point the road is excellent, but instead of continu- ing on to the Garden City turn abruptly to the left at Burlingame, cross the raii- road track and with a swerve to the right | reach Mateo beach. Here you may pluck wild flowers on the shore or plunge into the placid waves that ripple over the gravelly bottom. The water is never very cold and there are no dangerous cnrrents. breasting the | tide a while take a rub down, and you will wonder why the wheel runs o ligntly on | the return trip. From San Mateo or Belmont there are | several roadsleading into the hills, ana | even beyond 1o the settlements along the | ocean. But these, with the exception of the run to the Crystal Sprines reservoir, | which is well worth a visit, are hard climbs | to make and will scarcely compensate for | the outlay of time and muscle. No need to mors than mention the rcad | to Haywardsor the raging course ove nous San Lorenzo triangle. These | are traversed weekly by thousands of | wheelmen. Yet seldom do any turn aside | | The wateris up to the limit, and a foam- evidently the | abode of a farmer who 13 plowing near | | by, but on the ridge of the steep roof is | | the faded sign of a saloon. It has out- | lived its usefulness and is an incongruous | feature of the syivan scene. Proceeding about a quarter of a mile we reach the parting of the ways—a fork in ihe road that is quite misleading, for the most-traveled way is the one not to fol- !low. Take the branch on the right that runs up the steep side of & hill. it's only 100 yards to the top, butit's easier to walk. Here the soil is adobe and for a short dis- tance is badiy broken up, but later in the season it will be all right. The road is cut out of the side of a chain of hills. Below, to the lefi, is a narrow, deep valley, thickly wooded, but one looks over the tops of the highest trees. The sweet scent of willows comes on the air, and the gurg- ling of water over a pebbly bed is heard. A little further on the lake itself bursts into view. Blue and clear as the sky above it streiches away and away be- tween breaksin the hills, seen here and there through openings in the overhang- | ing foliage. Involuntarily one thinks of victures that he has seen of the lakes of Killarney. Directly opposite the eminence on which we stand is the great dam, covered with the greenest of grass. At its basea few head of cattle are feeding, and beyond | the white sail of a boat glints in the san. crested cataract pours. under a bridge of stone, and is guided through an open con- auit into the vale below. The cascade roars like a miniature Niagara, and is the only sound-that breaxs the stiliness of the spring day. The road winds for some distance above the shores of the lake, which is apparently of vast extent, though in reality it is less than six miles long. Ferns and flowers | grow on the bank to ths right, and the | id honeysuckle hangs in festoons here and there. On & rocky point sits a lone tisherman. He ovens a buiging bag and displays a fine mess of trout, carp, caifish aud a few | { minnows for small change. “Does the water company care?” “Well, maybe, but it's a long way from | the office,” is the philosophical reply. | | L BEACH ON THE NORTHERN SHORE OF RIC By a gradual descent the rozd reaches | the lowlands at the head of the fake, | which is left bel'nd and the Castro Val- | ley entered. Here are the homes of many small farmers and stockmen. In places | the wheeling is hard, but the roads will soon ge: broken down. Rushingdowna | sharp declivity between two farmhouses | ain on the San Leandro road, | this time at a bridge near Haywards, having made a detour ot about eight | mites. | If this ride seems & bit too long go up | into the canyon st Laundry Farm. A | little more than & mile from Fruitvale a crossroad leads to Mills College. Tt is smooth and well kept. Foliow it past the bridge at the entranee of the seminary, and if the grade is'too hard for you wai few yaras to the top of the incline. Then comes a gentle slope. If youkeep on the main drive you'll pass through a pretty piece of country, but will soon get into | the foothills and find it advisable to re- trace your way. But turn sharply to the | left and bold the wheel in check untit you reach the bed of the creek below Leona Heights. Guided by the stream, which at one place you must cross on a single plank, pass the rock-crushing plant, fed by an automatic railway, and enter the glen, a favorite resort of picnickers, but where one seldom sees a bicycle. Beyond this it is not pleasant to ride, though there are paths which may be pursued for some distance in various directions. But climb to the top of one of the many ridges and you may obtain a splendid view of Oak- land, Alameda, Berkeley, the bay, San Francisco and the Golden Gate. The trip isa short one and the recompense more than ample. " | Back of Oakland is the road into Jack Hays Canyon, starting from Temescal, | which is extremely picturesque, but rather too hilly for realenjoyment. The same may be said of the route into Moraga Val- | ley by way of the Fish ranch. Theam- | bitious road-rider, however, will do well | not to miss the scenic charms here to be | found. Should “you desire to visit Martinez | while on this side of the bay, take the | county road at Golden Gate station, and | you will find fairly good wheeling, bar ring occasional grades, where it is advisa | they may be seen from car windows, but | must get ciose to nature’s heartif you | would feel it beat. | | ruthless prozress in the gaise of a scenic | avalanche is stiil there, but does not mar | an nour you may reach Mill Valley and HARDSON’S BAY. | able to walk. | pected places. TURN IN THE ROAD NEAR THE Indeed, nothing promotes | pedestrianism like cycling in the Coast | Range. For a change of scene turn to the north. | The dense forests and rushing rivulets of Marin will be marvelous to many. Trus, | stereotyped views soon fail to please. You Take a day off, or go on Sunday—after | church, of course. Cross to Sausalito, | then steer toward Tamalpais, once beau- | tifal to behoid, now cruelly gashed by railway. The cross-like scar made by an | the mountain’s face as does the work of | man. i The road has many bends, but in half ride into the redwoods. Rest here a while, | see the old mill, the three wells and the | cascade, then take a path little favored by | cyclists. Leave tie village behind, sprint | through *Jagtown” and cross the narrow- gauge track near Alto station. Then on | across the marsh and in and out the in- | dentations along the shoreline made by | the northern arms of Richardsons Bay until Tiburon is reached, and a boat for the City may be taken. The road is not| bad, except in piaces, and only once or twice is it necessary to dismount on ac- count of the grade. But from uo other point can ome see Sausalito, Belvedere, Tiburon ana San Francisco in one picture, with Alcatraz and Angel islands appearing in unex- There are some shingly | beaches here, and occasionally one may | find a few youthful bathers careless of the conventionalities. ¢ Arriving at Tiburon, if there is time to spare, take the broad-gauge train through the tunnels to Green Brae, where are moored a rare collection of arks, none of which Noah would recognize. }rom this | place there is a good road to San Quentin, naturally starting on the down grade. FOOT OF MOUNT TAMALPAIS CAMP TAYLOR. After viewing the prison you may: legally embarrassed—continue the ride to BSan Rafael, Petalums, Fairfax, San Au- selmo or Rossstation. From San Apselmo begins the cycler's road to Camp Taylor, and up the Russian River or its picturesque tributaries, From Ross station you wiil find it worth while to fotlow the Lagunitas to Liberty. To gat into the depths of a redwood for- est yon must go to Camp Tayior or Caze- dero. The start is made from San An- selmo, but it is necessary to waik over White’s Hill, the road being too steep and crooked to ride in either direction. Once beyond this forbidding eminence you plunge into a real wilderness. Some of the trees are veritable giants. Two cyciists with their wheels may stand within the hotlow trunk of one old redwood that tow 'rs 200 feet overhead. Itis difficult to realize that this is only a two hours’ ride from home. The river now is ranning full and is crossed by many a rustic bridge. Dragon flies, glistening in tie sunshine, darg before your eves and song birds are every- where. Why waste your idle hours in the city?. Up, mount your wheel and find health and happiness here in the wild- wood. E. E. Curris. ANGEL ISLAND SOLDIER ATHLETES. States so'dier isa, r at work or at play, the oid Grecian spirit him like athletic smell of powder—dear | of every man of war. v the fieid days at the various e such a great s onders of the Nation y day in brawn and v body makes a healthy | contests in the army of thought and action is as tin the ¥ now as the y sion in drill e practice, and it is | derful what the manly boys in blue | accomplish in the way of leats of | strength and strategy when the approv- | 1¢ eyes of their superiors and the ladies | upon them. Over at Angel Island; where the Third | Artillery is stationes, they nave a mag- | ificent lot’ of soldiers, and the rivajry | among them, friendly and manly though { itis, has developed many fine athletes | who would shine on any field. A certain time for practice is set aside | ineach day, and all who are in good phy- | sical condition are expected to partici- | pate. The boys in blue take to it willingly | enough, for they look forward to genuine competitive days with pleasure and even eagerness. When the eventful morning— once a month—arrives, volunteers for “Field Day” are called for and the num- who spring forward to take part is erally in excess of those who can be comfortably used. One of these exciting events or series of events took place a few days ago, and the | ecords that were made in some of the s were remarkable. The board that exercised supervision over and judged the contests consisted of First Lieutenant C. W. Foster of Battery 1, First Lientenant Beunett of Battery D, and Second | ant E.P. O'Hern of Battery H, | officers of the Third Artillery. war contest was first on the mme, and it was a magnificent | le that erded only when the vun- | gaished were at their last cleat and hauled | over it. Teams from Batteries D and I pulled Pest two out of three, and the latter won h onte the victory. After arest the winners and , a team from Battery H pulled for the | final, and I was again victorious. Private Tom Morley, anchorman of Battery I, is | a fine physical specimen, with ample | nerve, and he sat as firm as the instru- | ment after which the positign is named. ‘The tug-of-war greatly interested the audience, composed of the officers and their families, other attaches of the post and a few visitors, but the next event, a' wall-scaling contesi, excitea them to a high piten of. enthusiasm. 1t was an ustration -of and practice for what the | solaier must encounter when assailing an enemy's position, and, the men went at it with a vim that savored of genuine com- vat. The walls were perfectly smooth board fences ten and fifteen feet high, and teams of five men each from tke different batteries competed. All were in heavy marching order, with | rifles and belts containing 100 rounds of | ball cartridges, and the manner in which | they overcame difficulties was very com- mendable. Company H’s team was the first to make an assault on the ten-foot wall, and it made a record of 441{ seconds, that was not equaled during the day. When it is considered that the contest included the firing of five shots each by the first two men atthe top and of as many by each of the others when all were on the opposite side, 1t will be seen that this is remarkable time. Battery D came next with a record of 1 min. 8 sec., and Battery I finished in 5614 seconds. The scaling of the fifteen-foot wall was more difficult, and the men had some nar- row escapes from faliing. To gain the top it was necessary for one man to monunt on the shoulders of another who stood close to the wall. Then a third clambered to his shoulders and a fourth on the shoulders of the third and fastened astrap to the top. Up this siender sup- port all swarmed to send a storm of lead and defiance at an imaginary enemy on the other side. | Battery H performed the difficult feat, in heavy marching order as' before, in 2 minutes 12 seconds, John H. Davis, the | last man, going over the obstruction like squrrel in spite of hus 186 pounds of bone and muscle. In orderto give the boysa little rest before more heavy events were called, the gentler exercite of tent pitch- ing was inaugurated. The way those white havens of rest were hustled out, raised on their sup- ports and pegged down was a caution, d they were reared into the air as if the zénii of Aladdin’s lamp were at work on them. The men of Battery H had their tent up and in shipshape order in 3 min- utes 837 seconds, Battery I being second and 30} seconds behind. This finished the forenoon’s contests and the lads sat down to their dinner with sharpened appetites. The first event in the afternoon, called at 1 o'ciock sharp, was a relay race of 1000 yards, which was won by the speedy spurters of Battery D, Battery I being second. The time of the winners, 1 min- ute 553 seconds, was very creditable. The men took up their portions of the run with remarkable celerity and with practice wiil lower this record consid- erably. In the litter-bearing race, used to give the men practice in skill d speed in bearing wounded comrades from the field of battle, Davis of Battery H was first and Davis of Battery I second. Lanford of Battey I won the mile race, Mountain of Battery H being second. The time was 5 minutes 30{ seconds. The 440-yard go-as-you-please race, heavy marching order, was won by Panlu of Battery I in 1 minute 23 seconds, Davis of Battery H second and Chatham and Dumbler of Battery I dead heat for third. The mile walk finished the day's exer- cises, Kelly of Battery H winning in 9 minutes 15 seconds, Rasmussen of Battery H second and Walton of Battery I third, Genial Colonel Bainbridge, commander of the Third, watched the games with a yet critical eye and teemed to take & pride in the prowess of his “boys | in bive.” J. P, R. Hambletonian’s Skeleton. It will be interesting news to horsemen that plans have been recently consum- mated for digging up the bones of :ihe trotting progenitor, Rysdyk's Hamble- tonian, and piacing the mounted skeleton of America’s most noted horse on exhibi- tion in the museum of Natural History in New York. The museum has an excellent collection of the equine species from the period of the five-toed horse, that is no larger than a fox, but there no specimen of the | modern horse. This shortcoming was | observed a few weeks ago by John H. Wallace, the historian of the trotting | horse, and he voiunteered to pay the bill for procuring the skeleton of a represen- | tative American trotting borse if the | museum authorities would give it a place in the collection. This they were glad | to do. Mr. Wallace at once thought of Ham- bletonian as the horse of all horses to be placed on view, and Look measures to ob- tain permission to exhume his skeleton. Hambletonian, as all horsemen aware, was the first really great trotting sire ever known, and his descendants comprise more than 96 per cent of all the fast trot- ters now on the turf. ‘When the old “Hero of Chester” died, in 1876, he was buried with honors on a high nill on the Wiliiam M. Rysdyk place, overlooking the litils village of Chester, Orange County, which he had made famous throughout the horse world. About ten years ago the trotting-horse breeders of the country raised a fund for placing a monument above Hamble- tonian’s grave, and a granite shaft now marks the resting-place of the renowned stallion. Mr. Wallace last week obtained consent to the proposed plan of digging up the skeleton of the old horse, ana the work will probably bs done within a few days. It is the intention of the museum authori- tles 10 place on exhibition at some future time the skeleion of a representative thor- oughbred racehorse, a draught-horse and a common cart-ho! in addition to that of the great trotter.—The Collector. - -———— Good English Hads. “‘Mamma, if I bad a hat before I had this one it's all right to say that's the hat Ihad had, isn’t it?” *‘Certainly, Johnny.” “And 1f that hat once had a hole in it and I haa it mended I could say it had a hole in it, couldn’s 1 “Yes, there would be nothing incorrect in that”’ “‘Then it'd be good Engiish to that the hat I had had bad had a hole in it, wouldn't it ?”” “Johnnv, you make my head ache,”— Chicago Daily Tribune, i "TWAS ONLY On, country, green and fair! O, apple Lrees waving there! How sweet thy cool retreat, How full of rest! Caroled Mr. Middlerib in a voice like a cracked accordion and with a beautiful disregard of air ar.d words as he thought of the new country home he had just pur. chased, “near two lines of streetcars and | not more than five minutes’ walk from the Town Hall.” “Now, my dear,” he said, speaking to Mrs. Middlerib, who was preparing to pack up, “we will be able to spend the rest of our days in peace and comfort. I'm glad Isold out the meusiy old store, even if I did get only balf what it was worth., I'm getting too oid for business; let the young fellows have a chance. No more getting out of bed at daylight to hurry down to the store so that the clerks can’t knock down half the morning re- ceipts for m2. I'm going to enjoy life, Iam.” It may be remarked that Middlerib had not been able to stand noise of any sort since he sold his clarionet. Then he went downtown to find an ex- pressmizn who would not charge more than §18 a load for transporting furniture across the bay. “On, this is great!” said Mr. Middlerib the afternoon they got comfortably ana cozily settled. ‘‘Captain Pookdeck, a re- tired sea captain, who lives next door, keeps a cow and will supply us with plenty of fresh sweet milk. Mr. Whack- em, in the next block, is an honest team- ster, they say, and can do any little haul- ing we may need from town. Dr. Pill- stuff, across the streei, has a splendid dog that he says keeps an eye on the en- tire neizhborhood and that we need have no fear of tramps or burglars. I think we shall lead & quiet and happy life here.” Early that evening Mr. Middlerib got a breathing spell, and sat outon his front porch and solemnly contemplated the bammer-bruises and tack-punctures and abrasions of stove-legs and pinches of ob- stinate stovepipes that adorned his fin- gers, and wondered if Providence would not kindly strike the house with light- ning and burn it up before he had to move again, if that time ever came. | and balmy, and the dreamy hum of insect A SUBURBAN INCIDENT. blotted out the pains and stings of his digits, and he fell into a trance of ecstatic content. The sun wes just sinking out of sight, throwing long bars of burnished gold athwart the horizon. The air was soit ife floated in to Mr. Middlerib as he sat and drank in the glory of the scene. So peaceful, so franght with every attri- bute of nature that he loved was it all that Middlerib wondered if he could stand so much happiness 365 days running. He waz justabout to break into a pean of praise for his good tortune when there was the sound as of a small but energetic | hurricane coming down the street. Min- | gled with the tramping of heavy animal feet came: *Wioa! who-oh-oh-0o! son of a thiei!” Whack! ‘“Head him off, Bill! Whoa A big gray mule, with 4 paintbrush tail, came tkirmishing down the road ahead of amob of boysand men, head and tail in tbe air, and doing his best to kick every animated object that came within range. | It was plain that one of Mr. Whackem's mules had got loose, and Middlerib's sur- se was proved correct when the honest teamster and his three sons appeared in hot pursuit. Middlerib groaned as the animal was cornered and his dream of rural bliss flea, ““Whoa! Don’t throw him! Whoa, you son of Balsam’s! Look out for his heels, Bill. Hee-haw, hee-haw. Hold on, Tom. Hurry up. Git down the rosd furder, Bill. Chorus—Whoa, whoa. Hee-haw, hee-baw. Dog-gone the diddledy dog- gone mule to thunder. Whoa!” The cavalcade passed on and Middlerib looked anxious and sad. “Sook-kee, Sook-kee, Sook-kee.” It sounded like the steam calliope of the circus, but it was only Captain Pookdeck calling his cow. “Sook-kee, Sook-kee, Suke, Suke! Come, Suke!’ he yelled, emphasizing his call by banging vigorously on the bottom ‘of a big tin milkpail with the leg of a| milking-stool. Mr. Middlerib buried his nervous fin- You biff! whoa! hack! Then the beauty of the suburban scene 1 gersin his hair and tried to pull the top of his head off. While the retired mariner was bawling for his cow the hurricane returned. 1t came in a whirlwind of dust, whoops, paint-brush tails, clods and sticks. From the center of disturbance shot forth bawls, brays, yells, and presently, just as Pookdeck’s cow emerged from an alley just in time to-join in the festivities, the discordant clangor of a cowbell. Pookdeck ran out into the street to try to head off the procession, while Middlerib sank on his knees and crammed his fingers into his ears. Just as Pookdeck had howled in his best storm-at-sea voice, *‘What'n thunder's chasin’ that keow ?”” Dr. Pilistuff’s dog— keeping an eye on the entire neighbor- hood—dasned across the street and tan- gled up the whole works right in front of Middlerib’s house. The complicated movements that fol- lowed placed the captain right in line, and he was promptiy tossed over the Middle« rib fence into a garden urn, where he lay howling like a dervish for whisxy and arnica. While Middlerib was acministering these to the suffering ex-mariner the cow and mule, hemmed in on one side by the ‘Whackem cohorts and on the other by the Pilistuff canine, bulged through the fence a yelling, braying, barking, vocifer- ous mass that ruined $116 worth of plants and upset the owner of the proverty, car- rying him and Captain Pookdeck out into the alley and trampling on every square inch of their anatomies before the convention adjourned. The Middierib place was advertised for sale the next day and Middi&ib says that while there are some pleasant features about country life, he feels that in justice to his heirs ne ought to stick to business as longas his neaith holds good. Joux P. REYNoLDSs. By gifferent nations every day in the week is set apart for public worship—San- day by the Christians, Monday by the Greeks, Tuesday by the Persians, Wednes- day by the Assyrians, Thursday by the Ezyptians, Friday by the Turks, and Sat- urday by the Jews. > The notes of the Bank of England cost exactly one balf penny each,