As we emerged from the mountains at cajon Pass, and drove down into it, we could scarcely refrain from shouting for joy.
Within the riven scarps of the cajon Pass it was hotter still.
I recorded this pocket mouse from the vicinity of cajon Pass west to Valyermo.
We proceeded over the foothills to cajon Pass, thence to Victor, out on the desert.
And then followed the long, winding climb up to the cajon Pass.
It was a glorious July morning such as only the cajon country knows, with the air sweet and clean.
Slim pressed on along the trail of the cattle, following it into the first of the cajon foothills.
Chuck spurred his cayuse into a full gallop, rocketing down out of the cajon foothills.
He has the biggest wheat-ranch in cajon; we've harvested miles and miles of wheat for him.