point, and for
what reasons, we were prevented from the complete execution
of this plan, after having made considerable progress upon it,
and how we were forced by desert plains and mountain ranges,
and deep snows, far to the south and near to the Pacific
Ocean, and along the western base of the Sierra Nevada; where,
indeed, a new and ample field of exploration opened itself
before us."

From these quotations it is evident that Fremont had no idea of
entering California at this time. He was simply driven to it by
circumstances over which he had no control.

Leaving the Dalles, Fremont followed up the Des Chutes River to its
headwaters in southeastern Oregon, thence he crossed over the divide
to the waters of the Klamath, which he followed southward to what is
known as Klamath Marsh. This he called "Klamath Lake."

Now started the hunt for Mary's Lake and the San Buenaventura River.
The party came down through southeastern Oregon into Nevada, where
they camped on the night of December 26, in Coleman Valley, on what
is called Twelve-Mile Creek, and about eleven miles from the present
California line. It may be noted here that at that time the parallel
between Nevada and California on the south and Oregon on the north,
was the southern boundary of the territory of the United States.
Fremont was, therefore, about to cross into Mexican territory.

He then progressed southward through what are now Washoe, Humboldt,
Churchill and Lyon counties, and over the California line into Mono
County, back again into Douglas, and thence over the mountains south
of Lake Tahoe, but did not find Mary's Lake, nor the places upon which
he relied to recruit his animals and give rest to his party. He did,
however, find Pyramid Lake. This being the body of water into which
the Truckee River flows, and the Truckee being the only outlet to Lake
Tahoe, it is well that this portion of the account be given in full.
Fremont and Carson were on ahead. The day was January 10, 1843.
Fremont writes:

Leaving a signal for the party to encamp, we continued our way
up the hollow, intending to see what lay beyond the mountain.
The hollow was several miles long, forming a good pass (some
maps designate this pass as Fremont Pass, others as San Emidio
Canyon), the snow deepened to about a foot as we neared the
summit. Beyond, a defile between the mountains descended
rapidly about two thousand feet; an