“A second divide, more abrupt than the former, placed us in sight of Simpson’s Park and such a park! a circlet of tawny stubble, embosomed in sage-grown hills, the ‘Hiré’ or ‘Look-out,’ and others, without other tree but the deformed cedars. The bottom is notorious for cold; it freezes even in June and July; and our night was, as may be imagined, none of the pleasantest. . . .
“Simpson’s Park lies 195 miles from Carson City, where we might consider the journey at an end; yet the cold of night did not allow us to set out before 10 A.M. Our route lay across the park, which was dotted with wheat-grass and broom-like reeds rising from a ground saupoudré like salt. Presently we began to ascend Simpson’s Pass, a long kanyon whose sloping sides and benches were dotted with the green bunch-grass. At the divide we found the ‘Sage Springs,’ whose position is too elevated for the infiltration of salt: they are consequently sweet and wholesome.”