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Updated: May 2, 2025
"It doesn't seem as if anybody could ever have dug for gold in that horrid ditch," exclaimed Kyzie. "You'd better believe they did, though," said the young guide. "They used to get it out in nuggets, cart-loads of it." He was not quite sure of the nuggets, but liked the sound of the word. "Yes, cart-loads of it. I tell you 'twas the richest mine in the whole Cuyamaca Mountains."
They had alighted from the cars at a way-station, and were walking along the platform toward the tallyho coach which was waiting for them. Lucy was firmly impressed with the idea that they were starting for the gold mines. The truth was, they were on their way to an old mining-town high up in the Cuyamaca Mountains, called Castle Cliff; but there had been no gold there for a great many years. Mr.
Leaving Julian, we whirled along over splendid roads through a rolling country, given over to fruit farming, stock raising and pasturage. We next reached Cuyamaca and visited the dam of that name, which impounds the winter rains for the San Diego Flume Company. The country around the lake showed a deficiency of rainfall. The lake was far from full. We took our lunch at the clubhouse near the dam.
Even the names add to the fascination, the Cuyamaca Mountains meaning the hills of the brave one; Sierra Madre, the mother mountains; even Tia Juana is euphonious, if you don't stop to translate it into the plebeian "Aunt Jane," and no names could be as lovely as the places themselves. So much beauty rather goes to one's head.
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