Since reaching Summit the smoke of a forest fire had been showing ahead of us, and on resuming the journey the smoke grew steadily thicker and finally so dense that photography was impossible, fortunately not before two views of tree lined roadway, the first blocked by a mountainside, the second framing a sugar-loaf peak, had been obtained. These pictures were taken quite close together, not more that a quarter of a mile apart, and illustrate the continual and rapid change of scenery, the grandeur and beauty of which left us almost speechless, so much so that all known adjectives being exhausted we were compelled to express our appreciation by "Isn't it…" leaving it to the imagination to supply what speech was unable to express.

Passing North Bend and Snoqualmie Falls without stopping, but promising ourselves to visit the latter on our return trip when we hoped the smoke and the Sunday crowd would not be so much in evidence, we came to Falls City. Here a very irate person who had nearly had an accident, due to a badly put on tire, commandeered us to drive him to the garage and we left him in the middle of a heated dispute with the mechanic who had recently fixed his tire. As he had been in a great hurry to get a patient to the hospital, which hospital at the time he spoke to us was nearer than the garage, it may be supposed that his sense of injury was deeper that his sympathy. We might have saved some mileage by going on via Redmond from this place, without touching Seattle, but not learning of this cut-off until too late we took the road through Preston and Issaquah.

After leaving Preston, we overran a turn marked "To Issaquah". The road was clear for the moment and, though not very wide, had a high bank on the left-hand side apparently rising from the roadbed. So B. swung Maudie to the left and then backed up to make the turn, believing it quite safe to back until stopped by the bank. Concealed by grass and low scrub was a narrow ditch, in which Maudie promptly sat down, folded her hands and refused to move. The picture she made there with only her front feet on the road and her hind end in the ditch partially hidden by scrub and grass, should have been recorded and doubtless would have been had we been left long in solitude. There was luckily a great deal of traffic and before many minutes quite a crowd of motorists was enjoying our predicament. Real trouble, however, receives speedy assistance although minor difficulties are passed by without even a question, and a gentleman and his daughter, driving a Hudson six, at once offered to pull Maudie out of the ditch if a rope could be procured. This was soon forthcoming and the lady, who certainly could handle her car, backed round and hooked on, the rest of the spectators - there were by this time enough to have picked Maudie up bodily and carried her - standing by to push. Maudie was evidently not pleased, but surrendering to the greater force climbed out like a cow from a mud hole with as good a grace as she was able to assume, nothing the worse for her adventure. So, thanks to our rescuers - the Kid had quite lost his heart to the lady - we proceeded on our way and were not long in reaching Issaquah. A detour here gave us a little trouble, but once we found the right road a drive of some 11 miles brought us to Renton and paved road leading into Seattle. Maudie was in a vile temper and behaving with the utmost vulgarity, and as the traffic grew thicker became so willful and headstrong that B. could no longer control her. We decided therefore to return to a hospital bearing the sign 'S.O.S' which we had just passed and have her attended to, being quite convinced that a fairly simple operation would restore her to health and good temper. We had a little difficulty in persuading the practitioner, it being Sunday evening, but he finally agreed and with B. assisting got to work. During the wait L. and W. went off to purchase supplies and try and get a badly needed shave. They succeeded in finding a barber who, for the regular charge, provided hot water and towels, and allowed them to shave themselves. The operation - not the one performed with razors, though that was sufficiently serious - occupied about three hours, and during this time the smoke haze cleared enough to afford away to the South East a fine view of Mt. Rainier, 14556 ft. in height, the setting sun lighting his snow-capped peak. We afterwards discovered that this mountain was not much short of 100 miles distant, so his size must have been tremendous and the clearness with which we saw him in all his glory was really remarkable.

With great relief and high hopes, the operation over, we once more went ahead but, in attempting to follow directions, we took a wrong turn and, following a side street with the idea of regaining the main thoroughfare, narrowly escaped coming to grief. We had no sooner turned into this side street than we saw that the two blocks we had to traverse were extremely steep downhill - almost precipitous. The nervous strain on Maudie, so soon after the operation, proved too much for her and she suffered a relapse but, by good luck, we managed to cut into the cross traffic at the bottom without hitting, or being hit, by anyone. This street, we learned later, is not usually traveled by automobiles and for once the Kid did not suggest 'more gas'. The traffic being very thick and the city speed limit of 20 miles being usually exceeded by about ten, our avoidance of disaster at this point was the more fortunate and the rest of us considered that we had cause to be thankful for B's firm direction of the Headstrong Maudie. Unfortunately, the moment was not suitable for offering the libation - also the sacrificial essence was lacking, moreover it would not have withstood the crossing of the dry belt behind the Cascades.

Passing through Seattle, we saw a number of vessels built during the war for the French, but by them rejected on account of faulty construction, and which had been tied up in harbour ever since - a very gratifying example of detected graft. These the Kid proudly pointed out as the "United States Mercantile Marine", an unconsciously humorous reflection on American shipbuilding. By the time we reached the outskirts of the city we began to encounter an almost endless procession returning from their Sunday run up and down the Pacific Highway connecting Seattle and Vancouver. For mile after mile, nearly blinded by the lights we drove, by feel and guess, over an 18 ft. paved roadway while the procession, moving at a rate of not less than 30 miles per hour, car following car at an average distance of 10 to 15 ft., filed endlessly past. After this and observation of the reckless driving in the city one is not surprised to learn that car fatalities on the States roads annually exceed the American army casualties in the late war. Add to this the roar of incessantly passing cars varied by the whining scream of vacuum cup tires with over all the stench of burnt gas and hot oil, and it will be easily understood that this section of the road was not agreeable.

Fourteen miles out we stopped at a wayside refreshment stand in a temporary lull of the traffic, as Maudie was showing signs of fever. On examination it was found that the wound caused by the last operation had not been properly stitched up and there had been a great loss of vital fluid. We learned that a fresh supply might be obtained one mile further on and that there was a public camping ground close by, so B. and L. walked into town and, returning with sufficient fluid to remove all danger for a time, we drove on to the campsite where the outfit was unloaded and B. drove Maudie on to the surgery in the town, returning on foot while others made camp. Fortunately, it was quite dark and the troubled experiences of our day's drive of 132 miles had tiered us sufficiently to prevent us being too critical, but rather to our anxiety the Kid refused his beans. The names of town and campsite are Bothell.