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Updated: June 9, 2025
About two and a half miles out we come to Spooner's, once an active, bustling, roadside hotel, where in the lumbering and mining days teams lined the road four, six and eight deep. Now, nothing but a ramshackle old building remains to tell of its former greatness. Here we made a sharp turn to the left, leaving the main road and taking the special Marlette Lake road.
We took one lantern and instructed the guides to hang the other to the roof of the look-out house to serve as a beacon for us in case we got lost, and then the party started back up the precipice and Marlette and I made our run. We skipped over the hot floor and over the red crevices with brisk dispatch and reached the cold lava safe but with pretty warm feet.
The second and third pipes were laid by the late Captain J.B. Overton, who was Superintendent of the Company for over thirty-two years. Captain Overton also extended the flume lines, constructed the tunnel through the mountain ridge, built the Marlette Lake dam and made many other improvements and extensions.
The only cheerful objects were the glinting stars high overhead. By and by Marlette shouted "Stop!" I never stopped quicker in my life. I asked what the matter was. He said we were out of the path. He said we must not try to go on till we found it again, for we were surrounded with beds of rotten lava through which we could easily break and plunge down a thousand feet.
Marlette Lake lies several hundred feet above Lake Tahoe on the Nevada side, and half a century ago its waters were taken through flume, tunnel and pipe line across the dividing mountain range and out into the desert valley of the Carson River for sustaining the gold seekers of Virginia City.
I thought eight hundred would answer for me, and was about to say so when Marlette partly proved his statement by accidentally crushing through and disappearing to his arm-pits. He got out and we hunted for the path with the lantern. He said there was only one path and that it was but vaguely defined. We could not find it. The lava surface was all alike in the lantern light.
The only cheerful objects were the glinting stars high overhead. By and by Marlette shouted "Stop!" I never stopped quicker in my life. I asked what the matter was. He said we were out of the path. He said we must not try to go on till we found it again, for we were surrounded with beds of rotten lava through which we could easily break and plunge down a thousand feet.
The steamer now continues along the Nevada shore, past the scars caused by the breaking of the Marlette Lake flume, by Crystal Bay and the site of the old town of Incline, around State Line Point to Brockway. This resort has been long and favorably known for its famous hot mineral springs.
While promiscuous fishing is not allowed now in the famous Marlette Lake, eight miles away, the patrons of Glenbrook Inn can always secure permits, without any vexatious inquiries or delays, and there an abundance of gamey trout of various species are caught. The bathing facilities here are exceptionally good.
Mainly uphill the road continues through groves of cottonwood, by logged-over mountain slopes and sheep-inhabited meadows until the divide is reached. Here a very rapid down hill speedily brings us to the south edge of Marlette Lake.
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