Editorial Correspondence
The Walla Walla Statesman
Olympia, November 3, 1869

Dear Statesman; Continuing my letter of the 1st, I may state that we left Portland on Monday morning, in company with Judge Dennison of the Supreme Court; Mr. Woodward, superintendent of Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express; John Wilson, the great circus manager and several other gentlemen, all bound for Olympia. The steamer Rescue brought us to Monticello about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, where we took passage by Davis' stage line for Olympia.

When we left Monticello the roads were dusty, but we had scarcely got into the mountains when the rain began to descend, and for seven long hours we were exposed in an open wagon, on a most miserable road, to the peltings of a pitiless storm. To say that we were wet through does not express the idea we were literally drowned, and a more forlorn looking set of men I have never seen. 

We arrived at Pumphrey's Station about 10 o'clock at night, and there before a rousing fire we dried our dripping garments, and in a brief space of time were summoned to a smoking hot supper, which after our long and perilous ride, was enjoyed with a relish. Coats, boots, stockings, etc., being suitably arranged before the fire to dry, we retired to our beds, to be called at 3 o'clock in the morning, to resume our journey. 

Thanks to the kind attention of friend Pumphrey we had a nice clean bed, in a well furnished room opening out from the fire, and thus comfortably, fixed, we rested well, and rose at 3 o’clock, greatly refreshed. At that hour all the passengers were in readiness, and a few minutes later we were seated in an open coach, with the rain pouring down, and in almost pitch darkness, we resumed our journey.

The road for miles was little better than a lake, and with small but tough little horses, we made our way at little better than a snail’s pace. The hours that elapsed before daylight were interminable, and we thought at times morning never would come. Slowly jogging along, the water pouring down, just as day was about to break, we came to an unusually fine “water privilege" in the road, and in it the stage upset spilling out passengers and baggage in wild confusion. 

The writer was the “heavy character” in this little drama, and in consequence of his weight was the last to get out of the wreck. Judge Dennison. being light and active, was first on his feet, and at once came to the assistance of your humble servant, fishing me out of the water and assisting me in regaining a firm footing. With the turn over of the stage the horses stood perfectly still, and thus we escaped what otherwise might have proved a serious accident. 

In a few minutes the coach was righted, and dripping wet we resumed our cheerless journey. After journeying fourteen miles, the greater part through a dense forest, we came to MacDonald's Station, and there halted for breakfast. We had been five hours in making this fourteen miles, and during the whole time the rain never ceased to come down as though the windows of heaven had been opened.

After a hasty and not by any means palatable breakfast, we were again on the road, with twenty miles to make before reaching Tullis' Station, the next stopping place, and the point at which passengers take dinner. Our drive now for miles was through a dense forest, broken occasionally by little patches of prairie land. These prairies are all taken up, but being, covered with fern, we can scarcely understand how the occupants manage to live. 

Such patches of land would set a Walla Walla farmer crazy. In passing the Chehalis we noticed some tolerable good land, but taken as a whole this part of the Territory is anything but inviting to the agriculturist. A poor soil, and long, dreary, wet winters, the cattle are stunted, and two and three-year olds are small beside Walla Walla yearlings. The farmers of our valley who occasionally grumble, should visit the Sound, and take our word for it they will go back more than satisfied with their lot in life.

Resuming the thread of our narrative, we reached Tullis' Station, on the Shookum Chuck, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, having been for none six hours exposed to a constant dipping rain. There we had dinner, and for the balance of the trip, twenty seven miles, we had a covered coach, and with relays of horses made good time, reaching Olympia about 7pm, having made the distance from Monticello, 70 miles in eighteen hours traveling time.

This road, take its entire length is the worst in the world, and under all circumstances, it is a wonder how the stages get through in such good time, and with comparatively few accidents, It is due the drivers to say that they are very careful and if passengers fail to make the trip comfortably, it is not the fault of the proprietors of employees of the stage line.