The international photographer (Jan-Dec 1931)

September, 1931 The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER Nine V tJ_ -..1* Le/£— Wif/i Hughes Lake in background editor is shoivn on left fighting to keep eyes open in spite of fierce rays of low descending sun as Major Treatt demonstrates how it is done by distant release. Note in major's right hand spool of cotton which editor has panhandled from neighboring housewife. Right — View of Joshuas in Mojave Desert, trees in background suggesting troops moving in open formation strument would have been questioned, not too loudly, of course. Twenty That Looks Five As to the distance between the station and two buttes off to the east the grim-faced but altogether kindly station man said the twins, in spite of their apparent nearness, were a full twenty miles away. "I know," he declared, "because often I have ridden a horse over there and back the same day. And that, in this kind of weather, is a day's work for any man. Yes, or horse, either," he added in response to a suggestion. Back at Mojave there were more huge glasses of iced tea and the bottles were refilled with cold water. The major was absorbed in visiting the several old English steel engravings that adorned the walls of the railroad restaurant, a hostelry that in the days before the laying of the rails long ago had served as a hotel for those who traveled by stage coach; when the dance floor was the present waiting room and the bar room what is now the women's room. The placid features of the woman on the other side of the counter who looked so much more like the custodian of a Back Bay library than a waitress in a desert railroad town restaurant lighted up with interest. Beware of Reporters "There was a man in here a few weeks ago," she said, "who spent a lot of time looking at those pictures and asking questions, and until I received a magazine in the mail I never knew he was a newspaper man." "You have to be on your guard," replied her listener. "You never can trust those birds." Unwittingly she did, nevertheless, smiling quaintly as she told how a customer when a fellow-guest had inquired where he supposed Fred Harvey got his waitresses had suggested possibly in Kansas. "I don't think so," responded the inquisitive one. "I believe they are convicts on parole." And from that Madonna-like face topped by graying black hair came what sounded much like a chuckle. The clock was pointing to 2 when we headed south. It was early to go home, so it was decided to make a detour to Hughes Lake, to the both merely a name. Nevertheless very quickly it was discovered it was more than that; it was a place to remember. Instead of turning to the left at Death Curve at Palmdale the machine was headed to the right. In short order we were running through a valley over a hard dirt road, cool by comparison with the heat of the concrete. The highway wound and it rolled, with something to see on both sides. On the left was a landscape so different from the usual desert July background the writer was led to observe "It is non-Californian." Looking through gorge in Red Rock Canyon "Taking the words out of my mouth," remarked the major. "I was about to say it reminded me of England." It was New England the driver was thinking of, a spot of terrain up to that time he had not in summer met up with in the neighborhood of Los Angeles. Real Oasis After a run of twenty odd miles we came to Hughes Lake, a small body of water, but surrounded by grass of a height and color found only where water is close at hand. It was a real oasis after many miles in the desert. Just why these pools should be dignified with the designation of lake may mystify the stranger, but certainly they did look good. For those who bring bathing suits dressing rooms are available, as the lake is privately owned. There are accommodations for picnic parties. . On the way back a mistake was made when it was determined to take the short cut to Saugus by way of Bouquet Canyon. The road was narrow and hard and rough — it is now under reconstruction. The roadbed is not of the hardened resilient loam noted between Palmdale and Lake Hughes. It is the antithesis. Given a good highway Bouquet Canyon is going to prove a favorite with motorists. Very likely it is for this reason the present atrocious condition has been permitted to exist — because of the fear in Mint Canyon of lessening traffic among short distance drivers. There was an enjoyable run after reaching Saugus. The visitor was very much interested in the beautiful castle-like home of Bill Hart on its Newhall hilltop. The trip ended in the cool of the late afternoon with the log registering 280 miles — a day to be remembered b" this writer as one of manysided entertainment. And as the end of a pretty near perfect day was celebrated, Mister Volstead was among those absent. So also were the cold water, the iced tea and the pop.