Transcription:
2 in April, and struck out at once into the country I followed the Diabolo foothills along the San Jose valley to Gilroy
- thence over the Diabolo Mountains to Valley of San Joaquin by the Pacheco pass, thence down the valley opposite the mouth
of the Merced river, thence across the San Joaquin, up into the Sierra Nevadas to the mammoth trees of Mariposa, the glorious
Yo-Semite - thence down the Merced to this place. The goodness of the weather as I journey- ed towards Pacheco was beyond
all praise description fragrant, mellow, bright, the sky was perfectly delicious, sweet enough for the breath of angels, every
draught of it gave a separate distinct piece of pleasure I do not believe that Adam Eve ever tasted better in their balmiest
nook. The last of the coast range foot hills were in near view all the way to Gilroy; their union with the valley is by curves
and slopes of inimitable beauty, they were robed with the greatest grass richest light I ever beheld, colored shaded with
myriads of flowers of every hue, chiefly of purple golden yellow, hundreds of crystal rills joined song with the larks, filling
all the valley with music like a sea, making it Eden from end to end - The scenery too all the Nature in the pass is fairly
enchanting - strange beautiful mountain ferns, low in the dark canyons, high upon the rocky sunlit peaks, banks of blooming
shrubs, sprinklings, gatherings of garment flowers, precious pure as ever enjoyed the sweets of a mountain home and deleted
Oh what streams are there beaming, glancing, each with music of its own