Twin Falls

We took the opportunity of the Labor Day holiday to do a family hike in the Cascades along I-90. We purposely selected this hike so as to avoid long drives each way such as would be necessary to go to Mt Rainier and back. This has its pros and cons.

Trail heads are pretty simple affairs – a parking lot at the end of a road with basic toilets and water. Since the hike is not too far from the Seattle/Bellevue urban area, a lot of people had the same idea that we did. The lot filled up quickly. In addition, we learned that part of the trail had washed out; so we chose the trail head at the other end instead. The hike climbs up out of the parking area fairly steeply.

It then joins, or uses, a rails-to-trails hiking/biking trail that formerly was the roadbed for a railroad headed for Snoqualmie Pass where I-90 also crosses the Cascades.

As a former railroad, the trail maintains very reasonable slopes over very long distances so that even in the ‘up’ direction the walking and cycling are pretty easy. As is true in many northwest hikes, the trail switches back and forth.

And as is also common, popular trails are secured, reinforced, and fitted with stairs when the climbing gets beyond a certain level of difficulty and the area is popular enough to draw crowds.

This makes it possible to take smaller children along and not be too worried about their falling down a slope or wandering away.

It’s the Northwest – there are large trees, though not as large as the Grove of the Patriarchs. One of the realities of living in this part of the world is that a lot of it was logged off by the original settlers, so that what we look at today is actually older second growth. Of course in some areas where the terrain was too challenging, a few older, larger trees were left; and these are now mixed in with the second growth. It’s all a bit of a mish-mash and not really the forest primeval.

Finally, through the undergrowth, we detected the bridge that crosses over the stream between the two falls.

It was, of course, a perfect place to stop and take in the view

Since this is a modest sized stream, the water gets ‘squeezed’ between the rocks, as in this view looking upstream at the first falls.

Beyond the bridge, we hiked a bit farther to a view point from which we could see the second, lower falls and its distinctive ‘bridal veil’ pattern.

Then we scouted out a clearing for a key part of the hike: lunch

And because we don’t get everyone together all that often, a family picture.

Great way to celebrate Labor Day !

Paradise

It’s not often that you get to go to Paradise – and come back; but here in the Northwest we can do that, and recently did. Our Paradise is of the temporal variety, complete with a comfortable lodge, good food, and beautiful scenery. That’s because it’s part of the Mount Rainier National Park. Here’s a ‘map’ of the location.

We visited in early September, the last month of the year that the lodge is open. After that, the lodge closes for the winter. You approach from the west and south, winding your way up along the valleys on the south flanks and coming first to Longmire, a site low enough in elevation that the hotel there can stay open all year. (lower left in photo above) I don’t know the history of the hotel itself but suspect that it may have been a private venture later incorporated into the park.

Like many of the natural wonders of this country, Mt Rainier became a magnetic attraction during the heyday of early motor touring. By the pre-depression 1920’s the quality and quantity of roads and the ownership of cars had all increased to the point that a ‘trip to Mt Rainier’ (particularly if there was a place to stay) became possible for a lot of the residents of Puget Sound. Once they arrived at Longmire, it was more efficient to take groups up higher in buses rather than try to manage a lot of individual vehicles.

And of course, with all those gasoline-powered vehicles, you had to provide gasoline, and undoubtedly a certain amount of repairs.

Naturally, National Park Timber Style conveyed a proper sense of the rugged environment; but realistically, in an area that can get a lot of snow, it also made sense to heavily structure everything to resist all that weight.

Befitting it’s importance, the park administration building includes some local stone along with its log facade. I think I might have raised the building a bit more up off the ground myself.

One popular NW artifact, seen at many parks throughout the region, is the slice of giant tree – usually Douglas Fir – propped up and displayed to show the rings and thereby the age. This one has been well annotated so we can relate its age to events we are more aware of. Of course, it would have been more impressive to leave more of them standing so we could truly relate to them, but that’s another whole story.

Here’s the center of the tree with its estimated birthdate of 1293.

And here’s its last year, 1963 – when it was 670 years old

From Longmire we started up the demandingly sloped road, switching back and forth through the ravines towards Paradise. Occasionally there would be a turnout with a chance for a view.

Here’s one of the Paradise River, showing its very dry summer trickle.

And, towards the other side of the road, a look at Christine Falls under the bridge built to span the ravine rather than try to find a way around it.

Arrival at the Lodge site itself comes as a bit of a shock. In the photo below it’s the building in the center distance, with an annex wing off to the right.

The buildings have been placed seemingly at random along the perimeter of a large, asphalt, undifferentiated parking lot. I understand that the lot needs to be simple so that they can plow a certain amount of it in the winter for people who come up for snow sports, snow-shoeing, inner-tubing and other fun when things are buried.

Things weren’t much different in the early days in which the parking essentially abutted the front of the lodge.

I purposefully took a visually edited view of the site to convey the character it could have more of if it tamed the automobile a bit more – looking from the front door of the lodge back towards the hiking guides building.

Once you step inside, you’re transported back to a different era, though not as completely as I had expected from experience with lodges elsewhere, such as at Crater Lake. The main hall has a grand space open to the peak of the roof, lit with decorative lanterns that give off a lush glow.

One very nice aspect for us was that our room was on the same level as the balconies that ringed the tall space. It made for interesting viewing; and seating in the bay windows along the long sides added some cozy spaces without spoiling the drama.

At each end, fireplaces anchor the space and provide smaller scale reading areas (almost always occupied) – though most of the heat went up the chimney.

It was hard to tell if the lamps were copies of originals or created in their spirit, but they had a forthright arts and crafts style and provided very appropriate lighting.

The large dining room anchored another wing and provided the base for rooms up under the roof. This was an ok but not great space. It could have used some of the lamps from the main hall to bring the scale down and warm up the space.

A couple auxiliary spaces rounded out the main floor – a nothing special coffee shop and a pretty commercialized gift shop. Felt like a different, non-lodge building.

 Upstairs, all the rooms have been tucked into the roof space, between the trusses.

Each one had its own dormer window; but they were a bit on the snug side. We definitely felt as if we could be in touch with the old timber structure !

On our second day the cloud cover still hung low over us; but we decided to take at least a short hike and experience that moodiness on the mountain. We started by checking things out at the visitor center.

This relatively new version of National Park vernacular architecture provides services to those who are at Paradise to hike but are not necessarily staying there. It includes this fairly grand gathering space and information counter plus a small nature museum about the area, a cafeteria, gift shop, rest rooms and other informative displays. They suggested that, given the cloudiness, a short hike to Myrtle Falls would work well. The trail started right outside the center. Near the lodge the trails are actually paved with asphalt. Farther up they’re a mix of sand and gravel, and then eventually, dirt.

Initially it seems as if you could easily lose your way in the mist;

but in fact there’s a lot of structure to the area near the lodge. And even up higher the trails have had so much use that they’re well marked and maintained.

The movement of the clouds around you makes for a wonderfully dynamic atmosphere (though I wouldn’t care to be there in a storm)

We found Edith Creek

And the place where it flows over Myrtle Falls

I never did discover who Edith and Myrtle were; and the local guides kept mum.

On the way back the clouds had lifted enough that we could just make out parts of the nearby Tatoosh range and the lodge buildings tucked behind the trees.

Given that in all this time, while standing on Mt Rainier, we hadn’t actually seen Mt Rainier, we decided to cut our visit a bit short and drive counter-clockwise around the mountain back to Seattle. This would take us through Stevens Canyon and give us a chance to stop at the Grove of the Patriarchs.

Leaving Paradise we rejoined the highway at Inspiration Point and were treated to a spectacular view down through the Paradise River valley, leading to the larger Nisqually River.

Since the park surrounds the basin all the way to the Nisqually entrance, the view is undisturbed by any man-made changes, though in fact there is a section of the Wonderland trail (that encircles Mt Rainier) hidden in those trees.

A few miles later the highway enters and cuts along the sides of Stevens Canyon, a five-mile long valley that defines part of the southern boundary of the park.

At the very southernmost point of the park, the road climbs up over Backbone ridge and descends into the Ohanapecosh river valley and the Grove of the Patriarchs. Patriarchs implies that you will see the fathers of all trees; but in some ways grove is more the operative word. Not that there aren’t large trees. It’s just that this not the redwood forests of California but more a small floodplain along a creek where a collection of northwest native species have been left alone. The park has been good about explaining the different species as you enter the short trail.

The trail follows the creek a short distance to a quite bouncy suspension bridge leading across to the grove. Jane thought it was a fun ride.

Since it’s a natural area, trees are left to decompose when they fall. Up close some of the sculptural burl formations are impressive.

And of course, every healthy forest provides a few nurse logs to help young seedlings take advantage of the decomposition process.

In this case there was an example conveniently near the explanation.

Finally, the big trees – hard to photograph when they go up 200-300 feet but you get the idea. The boardwalk, by the way, has been a necessary intrusion. It’s a popular visitor site and the traffic is hard on the soil and roots.

Not sure I’d want one of these in my back yard; but it’s fun to visit

A dramatic finish to our visit to Mt Rainier, though since you’ve made it this far, here’s someone else’s view of the big guy, just let you know he’s still there.

That’s the Emmons Glacier on the left-hand side, feeding down into the White River where we did our previous hike. The glaciers have retreated, since I moved here in 1980, to the point that from some vantages the mountain looks more gray than white.

White River Campground

During late summer we traveled to the east side of Mt Rainier and hiked a bit along a trail that starts near the White River Campground and then works its way gradually up along the White River towards the Emmons Glacier from which it comes. Mt Rainier, our iconic Northwest stratovolcano, National Park landmark, rises to some 14,411 feet; and on a clear day can easily be seen from 100 miles distant. It’s hard to convey in words, so I’m including a photo of a model to give the overall picture.

This particular view looks at the mountain from the south. The White River flows east and then north, in the upper right portion of the photo. Mt Rainier, as the highest point in the Cascade Range, is ringed with valleys, waterfalls, subalpine meadows, old-growth forest and more than 25 glaciers. The volcano is often shrouded in clouds that dump enormous amounts of rain and snow on the peak every year and hide it from the crowds that head to the park on weekends. I mention this because, as luck would have it, we picked one of those shrouded days for this hike.

We entered the park from the east side, along the road leading to the Sunrise visitor center at 6,000 feet, but we turned off along the White River and drove a short distance to the campground where we could park. A lot of the hike followed a trail that appeared to in itself follow an earlier road, perhaps used for logging prior to the area being set aside as a National Park.

Here, Jane, Jane’s daughter Ellen and Ellen’s friend Brandon take a break near the beginning of the hike.

In popular NW hiking areas the foot traffic degrades and damages the landscape, so the park system upgrades some of the elements to handle the impacts

Small streams like this one charge downhill, even in dry summers such as the one we’ve had this year. Having people trying to negotiate their way across them would be both dangerous and damaging.

In some other areas, what look like streams are actually the remnants of avalanche boulder rivers that at some time in the past bulldozed their way down the face of the mountain and took everything with them. The plants and trees come back of course; but they also get repeatedly hit by subsequent avalanches of snow and ice. It’s a beautiful landscape in its own terms; but you don’t want to be there when the avalanche is happening.

Where there has been time and good conditions, the trees and shrubs start their competition for light and end up crowding out the trail.

Along the way there are some interesting pieces of evidence of all this activity. Here’s a granite boulder, sliced or cleft to show its iron content.

And a downed tree, left to decompose, except for the slice cut out to keep the trail navigable.

Here’s a dramatic example of mother nature holding on under extreme conditions where the granite boulders have had their soil cover washed away.

And of course in various pockets and small meadows, a variety of wildflowers. We were there in late August, so the prime blooming season had come and gone; but there was still color and contrast to enjoy.

It rained on us enough that we decided not to keep going all the way to the foot of the glacier that feeds White River; but we got far enough to see the dramatic evidence of glacial collapse and flooding. A few years ago, this little valley was considerably higher in elevation and smaller. A flood from the Emmons Glacier ploughed it out and scoured away a lot of the trees and rocks.

This seemed like a good enough climax for a rainy hike.