Just to make it clear—I was not there when the following events occurred. The facts are pretty true, at least as far as historical documents suggest. How it all came together, only the participants know for sure, but this is how it happened–in my mind.
It was mid-May and the narrow, steep route over the mountain pass was moist but clear of snow. A month before, Harry Burke had fought the drifts at this point. Two months before that, he had only been able to negotiate his way by following the ruts that oxen, stationed on top of the pass, created by pulling sleds through the snowpack.
It was a bright May day on the road between Shasta City and Yreka. The trip was advertised to take about 24 hours, with horse changes and rider-rests at several places between the two boomtowns. The route had been in operation since the late 1850s and now, nearly a decade later, was accepted as the best and safest way to pass through extreme northern California.
