The grade up to Blewett's Pass from the west, or strictly speaking south, is not as steady as the reverse side and broken in places with short stretches of level or downhill, but increases in steepness as it nears the top. Although nowhere really steep, a good deal of it has to be taken 'in low' and the day being now quite hot, Maudie evinced signs of mountain fever, so, at a sharp turn very near the top of the pass, we stopped to allow her to rest. From this point we had a splendid view of the mountain, peak and valley. From the promontory on which we stood the hill fell away precipitously from the very edge of the road to a deep valley, the spruce and fir showing violet in the shadow of its depth. To the right, a higher ridge, almost bare of trees where some snow-slide had swept down, showed yellow in the sunlight. Directly in front, but at some distance, a mass of tumbled hill, the trees thinning out as they neared the top, and bare rock of many shades from slate and blue-green to reddish-brown or yellow showing in between the scattered and stunted growth. To our left and behind the road winding down with twist and turn, now hidden with the trees and again appearing where some small opening allowed a glimpse of turn or corner. In the strict sense of the word, Blewett's is not a pass at all, as the road literally climbs up and over the hills, while a pass suggests a way between. We were now nearly at the top, at least 4000 ft. above sea-level, and the road has always on one side or the other a very steep drop below it, as it twists in a continual series of 'S' turns down and round the side of the hill. So that some idea of the steady interest and change of scenery can be imagined; add to this the glorious colouring, brilliant sunlight and a few fleecy clouds and it is no wonder that we, poor dwellers on the bald prairie without decent hill or tree as far as the eye can reach, were at a loss for words to express our appreciation. Immediately after restarting we came to a place where the road was being widened by blasting out the side of the hill and passing a spot where shot was ready to be fired, Maudie deliberately trod on a sharp stone to the detriment of her sock, thereby making another stop necessary, but we kept on until the next corner had been turned. The road-gang were at dinner, so repairs were completed and we were once more on our way before the men returned to work or the shot was fired.

An easy run down the pass of about 12 miles brought us to a stream crossing the road and here we stopped for lunch at about 2 p.m., then continuing on downhill we came to a place where the road was still under construction and had a little difficulty persuading Maudie to negotiate the loose, rough foundation. This section was the same as the one where we had to assist other outfits on the outward journey, but then we were on the old trail since blocked by the new grade. Close to this place we passed a huge, bare rock-face, beautifully veined and coloured, rising from the trees at its foot like some enormous pyramid, impervious alike to summer sun or winter storm. We soon after reached the entrance to the pass proper and the run from here to Wenatchee was without incident other than the dust which we had to take for some time from a car which we overtook, but which would not give us room to pass and, when nearing the town, more trouble with Maudie's boots. By this time we were beyond making any comment and repairs were executed in dead silence, in fact it was not considered wise to even mention socks or shoes to B. and the repair-kit, tools and pump were produced automatically without being requisitioned.

Supplies were again purchased in town and then, crossing the Columbia River - which we decided should by all rights be the natural geographic boundary between Canada and the States - we began the long uninteresting run to Spokane. From here on it is perhaps better to draw a veil over the balance of the day's drive, the trial and tribulations suffered being more like a nightmare that anything else. Suffice it to say that two stops were necessary before climbing out of the Columbia valley. Another provided an opportunity to watch the light dying out over the Cascades from the vicinity of Waterville where, by the way, L. bought some excellent doughnuts. The old lady from whom they were purchased is probably still wondering if she was not defrauded by not receiving the 10-cent piece allowed for that purpose over and above the actual cost price. Some time after dark tea was hurriedly made in a smudge-yard about six miles further on, while attention was being given to Maudie's requirements, then opportunity given to stretch our legs and fill pipes near the second coulee and midnight again found us held up on the Eastern outskirts of Coulee City and finally, in desperation, we stopped by the roadside that place and Hartline at about 1 a.m., having made 199 mile, a very creditable performance when the amount of trouble experienced is taken into consideration. This place cannot be classed as a camp, as no fires were made or meals taken. L. did indeed rustle some firewood from a distance, in the shape of pickets surplus, as he judged in the darkness, to the fence they were originally intended to support, but on his return found W. and the Kid in bed and probably asleep, B. too cold and cranky to care for anything but bed and Maudie, with a satisfied smirk on her face, halting gracefully on one foot - and another 20 hour day was brought to and end.