SAW SAN FRANCISCO SWALLOWED AT GULP - Oakland Tribune - 14 Jul 1907, Sun - Page 36

SAW SAN FRANCISCO SWALLOWED AT GULP Sun, Jul 14, 1907 – Page 36 · Oakland Tribune (Oakland, Alameda, California, United States of America) · Newspapers.com

SAW SAN FRANCISCO SWALLOWED AT GULP 

Mountaineer Is Witness to Phenomena of Greater Disturbance Than Has Been Recorded by Man

BY THE MAN AFOOT

I have always gathered from stories with morals and ethical lecturer that bad habits grow upon the victim while good habits must be assiduously cultivated. In this walking habit I have discovered an exception. Taking it for granted that pedestrianism is a good habit it seems to have all the vitality and tenacity of a bad one.


There are plenty of street cars now in San Francisco but still I find myself "afoot." In fact, the point of view of "the man afoot" soon becomes the only satisfactory one to the man himself. I am not setting up a claim to a unique or original position. There are a great many other men afoot. There might be more if the police did not interfere with the pursuits of those who follow pedestrianism as a profession.

The other morning the habit took an early hold upon me and I found myself on the way to the top of the ridge of hills that look down upon Oakland and the bay. Thousands of people, doubtless, have climbed that ridge to have a look at the other side, therefore I cannot add anything to the explorations of California. Like the man who discovered all the world in his own door yard, however, I found many interesting things.

The fact that the road led by the cabin of Joaquin Miller was sufficient to explain that it was well traveled. Just now the pilgrim to the shrines of the poet will not find the old man of the Sierras at home. Instead the stile that leads from the road into the tangled garden is blocked with this sign:

PLEASE! PLEASE! DO NOT TRESPASS. THERE'S NOTHING TO SEE IN HERE, EX- CEPT WHAT'S DOWN YONDER.

It is worth a jaunt of several miles to see how original and impressive a "trespass" sign can be made when a poet takes hold of it. I saw many other signs on the way that threatened arrest, but none that arrested the attention as this one. It even occurred to me that the poet might have a commercial value and that every big park should have one regularly employed for the protection of its scenery. All editors, I am sure would advocate the plan from motives of self-protection if nothing else.

From the gateway I took a look "down yonder." Every citizen of Oakland ought to take that survey once in awhile. It would add to the inspiration and anticipation of one of the most magnificent harbor cities of the world. You can stand there and see greater things in the future than a real estate agent. It is possible to learn something more about what is "down yonder" by coming far enough away to get a perspective.

HISTORICAL TREE STUMPS 

Some distance above Joaquin Miller's place a trail leads off from the road and winds upward through a shady canyon to Redwood Peak. In all I had ever learned of California, I had never heard that giant redwoods once looked down upon Oakland from directly above it, as it were. It may not be a matter of information to others and yet I venture to note it for the benefit of any who may have been ignorant as myself. Trees thirty or forty feet in diameter stood within view of the city hall tower, Mr. Classen, the owner of the peak, asserts.

Even now the resident of Oakland may get up at sunrise and with no swifter conveyance than is provided by his own legs, take breakfast under the shades of the redwoods. It's a better breakfast than can be secured anywhere else that I know of in these parts. I refer to the impression it makes at the time.

WORTH OF HISTORY 

History in order to be worth writing is supposed to be very old or very new. The earthquake and fire is neither and should be omitted from present discussion. However I doubt if anyone has heard a more interesting account of the event than is given by the old, man at the top of the mountain, who has seen the city growing under him for the past fifty years.

He saw all the phenomena of a greater disturbance than has occurred within the recorded memory of man. He saw a volcano formed in the ocean and the city of San Francisco swallowed at a gulp. For three days he looked into the gloating crater.

The Classen cabin is hidden from below by trees and rocks, but there is a nearby point to which the owner goes to look down at civilization. It was from this place, on April 18, that he witnessed what he had every reason to believe was a volcanic eruption. He had felt the early shock and when he come out to the observation point was just in time to see the beginning or the great fire.

HISTORY MAKING EVENTS. 

"For three days and nights," he says, "I stayed there and watched that black cloud that rolled up and that wicked red-by-night. Every hour I grew sadder, thinking that everything but the mountain was being consumed."

It is only the dweller on the mountain tops, I imagine, who has sufficient repose of spirit to watch such a scene for three days with neither alarm nor curiosity.

I don't want to become tiresome over this walking fad. Suffice it to say, therefore, that as a result of the morning jaunt one more testimonial may be added to those of travelers who have found no greater variety or beauty of environment anywhere than may be enjoyed in a short walk, about Oakland.