Table of Distances As Shown Over Arizona Highways

NOVEMBER, 1929 ARIZONA HIGHWAYS Page Seventeen Travel at Your Own Risk

By JAMES R. GRIFFITH, Professor of Structural Engineering, Oregon State Agricultural College, in "Highway Magazine."

My first experience at cross-country motoring came last summer on a trip from Illinois to the Pacific Coast and back. The first time I encountered the sign

ROAD UNDER CONSTRUCTION TRAVEL AT YOUR OWN RISK

I came to a full stop and continued on my way with misgivings only because I saw no other way out of it. By the time I had completed the 8,500-mile trip, those signs had ceased to be a novelty. I approached them with a philosophical attitude and considered that many of the highways not under construction should carry the last half of the same sign.

Practically all of my motoring experience prior to this time had been on hard surfaced roads. My first experience on bad roads was of a different kind. After experiencing a hair-raising night and the edge of a tornado at Manhattan, Kansas, I left for points southwest in a none too easy frame of mind. I had heard of Kansas roads after a rain, particularly in the vicinity of Dodge City. My difficulties began long before Dodge City came in sight. The road had recently been paved but several new fills had been left to settle before being paved. Nothing but mud and water was in sight for stretches of several hundred feet at a time, and there was no way around it. I drove up to the side of the road to put on chains and to see what other cars would do. The natives would approach the mud under full speed, hit the road in about the center, and trust to luck to go through. They all came through, but their motior reminded me of a duck heading for water. After that one experience I followed the procedure of the natives and always came through, but with what a sensation of helplessness!

Detours were few on that trip. There were no places to detour. I became quite expert at oozing the car through a construction gang of mules and slip scrapes. I always expected some mule to resent the car and take a kick at us, but none did. The only injuries to the car from animals came from the bears in Yellowstone Park. They would try to climb inside.

Many of the states have a policy of providing detours almost as good as the main highway, but in New Mexico detours meant wandering across the desert. One detour east of Gallup was full of holes fully three feet deep. The car had to be eased into these holes and out again. Several times the top of the car was the only thing that kept us inside. It certainly needed, but lacked, a sign:California had very good detours, but there we had our first experience with one-way traffic. Desiring to keep to the cool coast as much as possible, I head-ed north from San Francisco, not by the main traveled inland route, but by the Redwood Highway. Between Eureka and Crescent City we were stopped by a watchman. In a stretch of highway in the heart of the majectic redwood trees, stood a sign:

DRIVE AT YOUR OWN RISK | TRAFFIC MOVES NORTH AT 11:30 |

It was just 11:05 and ours was the first car in line. We had lunch, some wonderful spring water, and visited with the other cars lining up. By 11:30 we had a sizable parade behind us. On the whole, it was a delightful wait. Soon we saw the south-bound procession head-ed by a pilot car. When all had passed, the pilot gave instructions to follow closely, and headed north. The last car in line carried a red flag draped over the radiator, to be removed at the other end, indicating to the workmen that they could proceed. Up and down, in and around holes and bumps we went, but there were plenty of teams and tractors on hand to pull any one out.

California had one nasty habit of dumping a surplus of fresh oil over the entire road surface without stopping traffic. The oil flew in all directions. I carried twenty pounds of it back to Illinois on the under side of my fenders, not mentioning all that was distributed around the car body and baggage. I presume they figure on the traffic re-moving the surplus with the right amount of oil left in place.

Oregon oiled with one-way traffic. One side of the road was oiled while a pilot car led traffic along the unoiled portion. Crushed stone covered the freshly oiled portion and was rolled. The pilot car then took traffic at slow speed over the freshly oiled portion while the remainder of the road was being oiled. Their method is efficient, considers traf-fic, and is highly commendable.

After bumping over Montana roads through the national forest reservations for several days I had fully concluded that here was an excellent laboratory for studying rhythmic corrugations. At least the effect on traffic could be studied. It was amusing to watch different drivers try to discover a way to make the corrugations less obnoxious. Some barely moved along the road, while others traveled at a fast speed trying to hit just the tops of the bumps. I really wondered if our car would get through with a nut in place. The road was so rough that I at one time traveled for a considerable distance with a flat tire without knowing it. The inner tube was in shreds. Just out of Bozeman a highway guard stopped us and wanted to know why we did not observe the detour sign a quarter of a mile back. Back I went looking for the sign. It was on the left hand side of the road, propped against the gutter, hidden from view by passing cars. I was curious to see what a Montana detour was like. I could hardly imagine it being worse than the main highway, so I proceeded with caution. It proved to be the most delightful ride we had in the state-a narrow, back country road leading through a beautiful valley and the road surface as smooth as I could ask for anywhere.

Entering Yellowstone Park at Gardiner we encountered some very good roads till we came to a construction gang widening a one-way road. The high, fresh cut on one side had many boulders of precarious stability. One large boulder rolled in front of us suddenly. The front axle rolled over but the crankcase pan refused. Fortunately I was traveling quite slowly. The boulder was removed only after the car was jacked up. The crankcase pan still carries the dent.

Leaving Yellowstone Park by way of Cody I approached the dirt roads of(Continued on page 18)