Barlow Point

 The paved portion of the Mountain Loop Highway runs east out of Granite Falls, following the course of the South Fork of the Stillaguamish River until it reaches Barlow Pass. There, at the summit of Barlow Pass, the pavement ends and the road descends to the drain of the Sauk River flowing north.

Peak rising east as seen from the top of Barlow Point

At the summit there is a trail to Barlow Point that advertised great panoramic views of both the Stillaguamish and Sauk watersheds far below. I thought I'd give it whirl since it was only 1.2 miles and the map showed a straight dotted line from trailhead to the vista point.

This trail was not flat, but it was climb over rocks and tree roots from the get go and it seemed much further than the 1.2 mile one way trip; I had to wonder if the distance was measures as the crow flies and did not account for the numerous switchbacks needed to gain the elevation to the top of the ridge. It was all uphill, one foot in front of the other. It took this old man 1 1/4 hours to climb the 1 1/4 miles. It was kind of beating, but once I started, I wanted to finish and not be defeated by the mountain's contours rising above me. It was 4 PM when I started, I knew I had about 5 hours of daylight left, but...  This climb was tougher than I expected.

The trail was heavily forested all the way.

Hike up, my heavy legs estimated 118 switchback traversed before I got to the top, and I though maybe I'd gained 1200 feet in elevation. I counted the switchbacks on the way down - there are only 39. And checking the map at the trailhead, the elevation gain was 800 feet.

Made it to the top of Barlow Point.
Stillaguamish River watershed behind me to the west.

Shadowed peaks to the west at 5:30 PM

Cheery colors await me on the rocky top of Barlow Point.

My ascent was hard on the lungs. My descent was hard on the knees. Happy to have made it to the top of Barlow Point and happy to have made the solo trek back down the side of the mountain.

I pointed my 4Runner downhill toward Granite Falls and pulled into the Thai House Restaurant, ordered Kee Mao, a chicken dish with pad Thai noodles, basil, ginger and peppers plus a pot of hot jasmine tea. A good day.

Big 4 Mountain Ice Cave

Big 4 Mountain on Mountain Loop Highway
Outside Granite Falls

 My glorious plan for the warming months of May and into June here in Washington, was to get out with my 4WD machine and explore the sights and hikes in my backyard. I'd made my first foray in May up to Darrington to scout the Mountain Loop Highway, a 55 mile partially paved car trail that links the Cascade Mountain towns of Darrington and Granite Falls with plenty of hikes into the mountains, around lakes and beside rivers and streams. I'd finished my trip to Darrington, but the MLH had yet to be opened for the season - opening estimated for around Memorial Day.

I return home to The Pilchuck from my north-end scouting trip only to have by transmission destroyed when the drain plug inexplicably rattled out, leaking all of the essential tranny fluid and stopping my forward progress. Twenty-three days later after being in solitary confinement with no transport, my 4Runner was returned with a rebuilt transmission. Eager to make up for lost time, I drove to Granite Falls on the south end of the Loop to head back into the Cascades to explore.

At the top of my list was the Big 4 Ice Cave. Big 4 Mountain, so named because its eastern face has a set of fractures that form the numeral 4 when seen in the spring and summer as the white snow-filled fracture contrasts with the dark rock. At the base of Big 4 Mountain is a talus field and large avalanche shoot that accumulates a delta shaped mound of snow. In the summer and fall, one of the numerous waterfalls which feeds into the top of the snow pile at the base of the avalanche shoot, hollows out an ice cave opening the water flows through the pile of ice at the base of the mountain.

An element of danger awaits at the end of the trail

At least five people have been killed this century by collapsing ice or rockfalls at the end of the trail. I believe most hikers disregard the danger and approach the base of Big 4 Mountain. I understand the allure, but I stayed on the trail at a safe distance as advised.

The trail from the picnic area is 1.1 miles (one way) to the ice cave. It is an easy hike, with modest elevation gain and expansive boardwalks that cross the marsh created by generations of beaver in the beautiful alpine valley. 

A large-leaf plant grows in the marsh. 
US Forest Service build boardwalks
make the marshland passable.

From the parking area one can see a handful of tiny, lacy ribbons of water cascading over the steep face of the mountain. I was eager to get a closer look, telling myself, I should not tempt fate and get too close to the danger zone at the base of the mountain where tumbling rocks or ice can smash one's head in an instance. 

The view and the end of the trail did not disappoint.

It was too early in the season for significant ice cave to have been hollowed out at the base of the accumulated avalanche snow and ice delta. But if you look close, you can see a small ice cave beginning to form at the leading edge. The cave will be enlarged through summer and fall by the action of the flowing water feeding into the snow from above.

You Ain't Goin' Nowhere

 

Clouds so swift

The rain won't lift

My gate won't close

My gears all froze

You Ain't goin' nowhere.

I've been sentenced to 18 days in solitary confinement. 

I'm a condemned man, I took the rap, served my time despite my innocence. Life isn't always fair.

It seems like half an eternity ago, but it was May 18th, the 45th anniversary of Mount St. Helens eruption...

Give me a mountain that blows

and truck that goes,

Oh no, You ain't goin' nowhere.

...I was motoring into Stanwood when I came to that hill that I always climb - no matter how steep, should've bought a jeep, before I get to town. And she just whined and didn't have the power to scoot on up. Something was not right.

Ooh, wee, Ride me high...

You ain't goin' nowhere.

I pulled over, the 'check engine' light flashed on, I knew I was in trouble. 

Ooh, wee,

You ain't goin' nowhere.

I got a lift back to my place, leaving the 4Runner on a Stanwood side street. I got back to town Monday morning and had her towed to a shop with a good reputation. I left my name and number at the counter with the ignition key. They said they were backed up with work and they would have a look as soon as they could. What could I do? I ain't goin' nowhere any how.

A couple of days later I hear from the shop; "Your transmission drain plug is missing. All of your tranny fluid drained out, you don't have the use of all your gears - it's unsafe to drive. Your transmission is damaged, we just don't know how bad."

I'm told that they don't rebuild transmissions, but they could take it out and look at it. Then they could order a rebuilt transmission and get it back to me by June 6 and it would cost me a little north of $9 grand. They recommend that I have JT's Transmission take a look at it.

I call the local Toyota dealership. They quote me labor and parts for a bit more than $5,000 - but they can not give me a date as to when they could get those parts in. Maybe a week, maybe a month - who knows? 

I call JT. He tells me around $5500 for a rebuild and he can have it done before the end of May. I get the 4Runner towed a second time, delivered to JT's shop.

***

It's now June 3, 2025. Things have not gone so swift, the clouds won't lift, I haven't gone anywhere. I haven't been off of my place for 18 days. I'm in solitary confinement. Fortunately I went to Costco the day before my drain plug rattled out and fried my transmission. I'm well enough stocked for food. But no face-to-face company. No contact with the locals. 

I kill time during this house arrest, by landscaping. I cut fallen alders for firewood, I trim the long, tall grass springing up around me covering my field, I tend my flower bed and realize I'm just raising fodder for the multitude of slugs. 

Then I realize that May 24th is Bob Dylan's birthday. I listen to Dylan. I relate to his tune, 'You Ain't Goin' Nowhere'.

I'll need to get my 4Runner back before June 18th when...

Ooh wee, that's the day my bride's gonna come,

Ooh wee, are we going to fly

Down into the easy chair!

If I got my transmission with all it gears, I'll drive down to the Seattle airport to pick up my bride. Ooh wee, ride me high!

Then on June 22nd, Grant, Kaileen and her parents will a come for a visit. I'm excited to show them around these parts.

Buy me some gears that grind

Hopin' for waterfalls and beaches to find

Ooh wee, Ride me High!

Now we're goin' somewhere!

North Fork Sauk Falls - Cascade Mountain Loop Highway

The Mountain Loop Highway takes me 16 miles south of Darrington where I come to a fork in the road. As Yogi Berra supposedly advised: If you come to a fork in the road - take it. And that I did. Veering left, I followed the sign pointing toward North Fork Sauk.

After 1.1 miles, rounding a bend in the dirt/mud road, I came to a non-descript wide spot with a post and a place where a sign was once attached, painted in US Forest Service brown. Navigating by instinct, I believed that this was the place where I had intended to be. Backing into the assumed parking place, I hopped out from behind the wheel, listened to the violent roar of water somewhere downhill, grabbed my rucksack and found a small trail into the brush. Obviously, a little-known, out-of-the-way kind of site that appeals to me.

A few steps into the misty, dripping woods, I could see signs of an established trail. I was confident I had found the last point of interest for my day's exploration. North Fork Sauk Falls must be down the trail from here.

The trail's descent was rather steep. The path was overgrown, yet easy to follow. The descent to the falls was maybe only a third of a mile, but I had to watch my footing on rotted wooden steps that were slickened by the ever-wet forest slime.

Emerald pool at the base of North Fork Sauk Falls

 

The violent, continuous roar of the falls was deafening. A dense cloud of mist rose thick from the base of the falls, wafting into my nostrils and covering all the ferns and foliage surrounding my viewing platform carved from the cliffside. I was most impressed by the multi-sensory experience of this location's sound and fury and feel of the cold spray of dews and damps embracing my flesh.

The bedrock outcrops across from the falls were worn smooth, rounded and sensual, while rocks next to the torrent were angular. An interesting juxtaposition of textures than caught my entranced eye as I again marveled at the fierce nature of this powerful spectacle.

***

I could go no further on the Mountain Loop Highway at this time of the season. I headed back to Darrington and linked back to State Highway 530 that would return me to Arlington, and then to my home gate.   

Too Early for the Mountain Loop Highway

 I was back with my trusty steed [4Runner] at the Boulder River Trailhead a little past noon. The sky was cool and gray, but no rain. I took that as a good omen and decided to make a day of it and drive into Darrington and catch the Mountain Loop Highway, a mostly unpaved  55 mile road that connects with Granite Falls.

I stopped by the Darrington Ranger Station to inquire about getting a Forest Pass, a $5 day pass that permits the holder to access trails and amenities in the Mount Baker - Snoqualmie National Forest Recreation Area. 

The good news: My Life Time Senior Citizen Dept. of Interior National Park Pass doubled as a Forest Pass. Just hang the plastic insert that holds my NP Pass from my rear view mirror and jump off into the wilderness and explore the Mountain Loop Highway. No additional pass needed. I'm paid up in full!

The bad news: The Mountain Loop Highway is not yet open for the season. The route is closed along the highest elevation at Barlow Pass in the middle of the loop. The contractor showed up on Monday and is clearing the fallen timber from the road and grading it for summer traffic. It should be opened around Memorial Day.

I asked Ranger Erika, "How far can I get right now and what is there for me to see along the way?" She suggested that I could check out the confluence of the Sauk and White Chuck Rivers at the parking area there and then she recommended that I continue on up to view the North Fork Sauk Falls. She said that it should be flowing a good clip right now, a spectacular and surprising sight. Ranger Erika then added that when she has out-of-town visitors, she takes them to see the North Sauk Falls.

I put my SUV in 4-wheel drive and headed out of Darrington - which didn't take long and then ran out of pavement. I stopped at the kayak boat launch at the Sauk and White Chuck River confluence and briefly looked around.

White Chuck River flows from the left into the channel of the Sauk River

Sand bar on the Sauk River provides easy access for those who wish to 
run Class 2 & 3 rapids between and over the streambed boulders of the Sauk River.

Back in 4WD mode and up the mountain on the unpaved Mountain Loop Highway - 'highway' actually is a misnomer, more like a mildly potholed car trail through heavy woods. Adventurous and doable for the average vehicle even without 4WD and high-clearance.

I pulled over at the White Chuck Mountain Overlook, and as is so often the case in the Pacific Northwest; "...now, if you could see through those clouds, you would be treated to see..."

Such was the case as I looked at a raft of clouds snagged by the peaks of the mountains across the valley, one of those cloud-shrouded peaks would have been White Chuck Mountain. I had hopes that my viewing experience of the North Sauk Falls would be more impressive than this intermediary stop.

White Chuck Mountain Overlook. 
I got a nice view of some tree and a low, gray sky obscuring the majestic mountain peaks.

***

It was mid-afternoon and I had not packed a lunch. But I had a plan; at the end of my day of exploration in the rugged Cascades, I'd be back to Darrington for a Swiss mushroom cheeseburger, fries and a big black raspberry milkshake at the quaint, roadside attraction; Darrington's own Burger Barn. 

Darrington's own Burger Barn with a large option of milk shake flavors and a host of burger combos.

Yum! 

And so it was, an early dinner, or a late lunch at 4:30 before heading back down the mountain to my estate on The Pilchuck.

Forked Falls on Boulder River Hike

Forked waterfall plunges into Boulder River

The weather forecast claimed that the rain would hold off until mid-afternoon on Thursday, May 15th. Time enough, I figured to do a little exploration in my own back yard.

I swung the gate closed and rolled up the road toward the mountain town of Darrington. I covered the 24.5 miles that brought me to the turn off to the Boulder River Trailhead in 30 minutes, arriving at 10 AM. I had high expectations that I could visit a mesmerizing, unnamed forked waterfall rushing over the rockface rising for a hundred feet or more above the Boulder River.

Boulder River Trailhead. I was the first one on the trail this morning.

After a 3.6 mile drive up a decent (at least the first two-thirds of the way) dirt road, I parked as the only vehicle at the trailhead this morning. I tossed my rucksack on my back, stuffed with a camera, raingear and several bottles of water and was off for a scenic mountain adventure. I could hear the roar of Boulder River in the distance and far down the mountain as I closed the SUV door. The trail peters out in about 8 miles, but the point of interest, a majestic, split waterfall was only a 30-40 minute hike with moderate elevation gain.

The beginning of the trail is a wide and level grade, having once been a narrow gauge railroad built to extract timber in the early 20th Century.

The trail is lined with a wall of fern as one ducks under fallen timber that lays above the trail on the steep mountain slope into which the trail is cut. I am amazed that I find myself now living in a place that is so eye-slammingly green. Moss is thick and spongy and grows on rocks, trees and on those that do not move quickly down the trail. As I round the mountain, the roar of Boulder River far down-slope gets louder and I get a few glimpses of the rapids from on high. 

Large fir trees cling to boulders on the steep slope above the river

The wide, level trail reaches the Wilderness Boundary where no logging was permitted within, and the easy railroad grade trail now yields to a narrower path hewn into the old growth wilderness with a moderate, rocky ascent into the woods above Boulder River.

I was expecting my boots to be kicking across a terrain of dark andesite or dacite igneous intrusives, but I puzzled that underneath all of this moss and tenacious tree roots were slopes not of igneous rocks, but of metasedimentary rocks in hues of grays, greens and blacks and a few dun patches to boot. 

A boulder-strewn channel carves the narrow river ravine at the base of the northwest face of 125 foot cliff with a gorgeous double waterfall in view between the tall timber. A fast-flowing stream rushes over the precipice, cascading through two vertical channels lined with vibrant green moss.

Boulder River fed by an unnamed forked waterfall

Forked falls framed by a moss covered forked tree.

There was about a 40 - 50 foot scramble off the trail to clamber down to the river's gravel bank. The descent was steep, utilizing strategic jutting stone steps and a few horizontal logs as footholds. 

The scramble off the main trail,
descending to the Boulder River at the 
base of the forked falls 

It was worth it. 

I could have lingered and enjoyed the cacophonous serenade of kinetic waters colliding as I sat alone in the cool, misty mountain air for much longer. I climbed back up to the main trail for a peek at what might be ahead on this trail. 

I ventured further up the trail beyond the waterfall to see if another spectacular sight might behind around the bend and in view between the trees. Trapsing across a fallen log fitted with handrails spanning a deep ravine, I covered perhaps another mile, took a few photos of some of the wildflowers growing the the mountainside.

But I had a few other hikes and sights planned up the road. So, I turned around on the Boulder River Trail and set the toes of my boots pointing toward the Mountain Loop Highway, a mostly unpaved car path through some deep woods and mountain passes the connects the Cascade Mountain towns of Darrington with Granite Falls. 

 

 

Hiking in 'The American Alps' - North Cascades National Park

 My life, it's a life filled with crazy duality.

From January through most of April; I was a Texan. I lived with a girl in Texas, I cooked for her, I did major home maintenance for her place in Texas, I planted a pecan tree in our Texas front yard.

Come April, I'm back on the road heading to the Northwest to re-adopt my wildman of the Pacific Northwest woods persona. 

I'm now back in my house on 50 acres of tall cedar, fir and alder with plenty of thorny blackberries covering the land. Back on The Pilchuck I still have some interior home furnishings to upgrade and there is always some landscaping to do.

Come June of this year, I'm excited to host our first guests on this yet-to-be grand estate. Son Grant, his wife Kaileen and her parents will join Sue and me on The Pilchuck and the end of June. I've listed for our future guests a full itinerary of Pacific Northwest options; hiking on volcanoes, exploring the Cascade Range, sailing on the Washington State ferries out to the San Juan Islands, dining on oysters in a restaurant suspended form a cliff over Samish Bay, trouncing through wild iris and rose bushes in the tidelands to a secluded beach. Some of these itinerary items I've already done; others I know about, but have not experienced first hand.

It is a fine day Tuesday, May 5th. Quite warm for Western Washington standards. I stow my machete and spraying rig for controlling the thorny berry canes and declare that today is a day for me to leave the home chores and to scout North Cascades National Park. I will want to see what I can recommend for my guest later this summer.

Entrance to North Cascades NP, "The American Alps"

It is about 90 miles from my gate up into the section of the Cascade Range designated as a National Park, a park that has relatively few visitors and is mostly unknown to the American public. A little on-line research gives me some options for a couple of day hikes and a list of shorter hikes, pleasant walks almost, that are available around Newhalem. I decide to start with a 2.2 mile hike along Thunder Creek to a bridge that spans the glacier-fed waters and allows hikers to go another 2.5 mile further to Fourth-of-July Pass for a spectacular view of the jagged, snow-capped peaks within the park.

Thunder Creek Trail (to the bridge) ~4.5 mile roundtrip:

Trailhead for Thunder Creek

Thunder Creek trail is about as level of a mountain hike as one could ever expect. It took me about 45 minutes to hike the 2.2 miles to the bridge. The trail is cut along a steep slope on the banks of Thunder Creek, which has an aquamarine hue that I find to be an exceptionally beautiful color of water. This color is due to 'glacial flour', very fine sediment from glacially ground rock that imparts this mesmerizing color when carried in the stream's flow.

Thunder Creek from the bridge at 2.2 miles

Thunder Creek Trail did not offer spectacular vistas (unless one continued another 2.5 miles to Fourth-of-July pass), but it was a typical Pacific NW experience to walk beneath large evergreens, under fallen logs covered in thick carpets of green, spongy moss and a few stops to marvel at the salt-and-pepper [dacite] igneous rock slides that cross the trail and underpin this magnificent terrain. It was a well-shaded, easy hike that gives a great feel for being in the forest primeval, with a variety of interesting plants and flowers along the way.

Firs, ferns and fallen timber on Thunder Creek Trail

An outcrop of dacite igneous intrusive that was 
split asunder by an ancient Sasquatch family and used for shelter by these
mythical apes of the Pacific NW forests

The bridge over the aquamarine waters of Thunder Creek

A very large spruce cut down at the Thunder Creek Bridge approach

My lunch spot next to the rushing, clear waters of Thunder Creek

It took me about 45 minutes to get to my destination, Thunder Creek Bridge, 2 1/4 miles up the trail. I stopped for lunch and enjoyed watching an American Dipper, a robin-sized bird that flies and dives into the rapids, stays submerged and then bobs up to fly away.

There were animal tracks in the sand bar at the river's edge; I think they might be coyote.

Hi! I'm a fun guy.

I considered hiking on to the pass with a clear alpine view of rugged, snowy peaks another 2.5 further up. But I calculated that if I did that extension of this hike, I would finish at the end of the day, and I wanted to explore a couple more short hikes further down the mountain in Newhalem area. 

Hi! I'm a fungi.

    

Along the trail there were interesting historical indications of early 20th Century logging in the old growth forest all about. These trees are so tall that loggers had to cut notches in the base of the tree to insert springboard planks on which to stand as they cut the trees down with two-man saws. These planks gave the lumberjacks a surface on which to stand above the thicker base of the tree. 

The notched on the side of one of the trees just so happened to look like a wise ol' face in in the forest. Makes me think of the Ents on Tolkein's Lord of the Rings.

My wife, a native of these part, has long enjoined me to be on the lookout for a special floral delight, the trillium. Finally, I do believe I found Sue's trillium along the Thunder Creek Trail.

Gorge Creek Overlook

Leaving Thunder Creek, I headed back down the mountain and stopped a viewing spot to look 150 feet beneath my feet at Gorge Creek as I stood on the highway bridge walkway made of a thin steel grid that one can look straight through. I am not particularly afraid of heights - but I have to admit, I felt a tinge queasy imagining the long drop to the rocks below this gridded walkway platform on which my feet were planted. Still, Gorge Creek, a spectacular cataract. 

Gorge Creek cataract from high on the bridge

Gorge Creek flows into Gorge Lake.
Gorge Lake is formed behind the first of three hydroelectric dams.

The Skagit River flows through North Cascades NP, though maps show that the river valley is not part of park land, it is dedicated to three hydroelectric dams on the river that were built from 1924 through 1962 to provide electricity to light the City of Seattle.

A recent forest fire burned through the area, the dead trees are evident on the steep ridges in the Gorge Creek and Newhalem areas.

There is a short loop trail at the Gorge Creek viewing pullout that lets one walk to get a peek at Gorge Lake behind the first hydroelectric dam. One could descent the trail and get to the dam and I believe their are tours available at the Gorge Dam.

Gorge Lake

Newhalem Short Trails

Newhalem is a village that houses the workers who operate the hydroelectric generators for Seattle City Lights Corporation. Newhalem has a store, the Gorge Inn, and a visitors center and few short trails in the area.

            Trail of Cedars: 1 mile Interpretive Trail

Pedestrian suspension bridge over the Skagit River

The Trail of Cedars begins by crossing a pedestrian suspension bridge over the Skagit River and leads to a easy and level loop trail that has many informative signs placed by the University of Washington Forestry School to educate those along the trail as to what types of trees are before them and why they are growing there as well as other interesting phenomena and conditions to be noted by the observant hiker.

'See-Through Tree'
A living tree hollowed out by fire

There is a spot on the trail named 'the children's castle', where some children in 1922 were playing with candles inside a group of large, hollow trees, when their candles ignited the tree's chimney-like interior and caught the crowns on fire. The local fire company's ladder and hoses could not reach the flames at the tops of the trees, so the firemen had to cut the trees down to keep the flames from spreading, and extinguish the fire once the burning trees were laying within reach on the forest floor.

Ladder Creek: Rock Garden & Pothole Falls Trail

 Behind the power house on the Skagit River, is a small tributary, Ladder Creek.

Gorge Dam Power House on the Skagit River

Another pedestrian suspension bridge crosses the Skagit River and provides access to view the potholes at Ladder Creek Falls. A series of winding steps that ascend the hill on which once stood a fabulous rock garden built to awe the visiting public with the wonder and promise of an industrial American future now  available with the harnessing of the river to generate electricity. Not only did the Gorge Dam light the streets of Seattle, but to showcase the marvelous possibilities of an electrified 20th Century, a rock garden was built that had electrically heated planter beds that grew exotic tropical specimens such as banana trees right here in the Cascade Mountains of Washington. The trail through the exotic plants was illuminated by the marvel of electric lights, shining 'in all the colors of the rainbow' as phonographic music played through hidden electric speakers. Visitors delighted to strolled under the beautiful light show while accompanied by music throughout the garden, long before Rock 'n roll theatrics were ever staged.

The Ladder Creek Rock Garden, though not much by today's standards, was once a glorious monument to the optimism and the benevolent industrial might of America.

Bridge to the Rock Garden

Potholes at Ladder Creek Falls

The Rock Garden still exists, though the man-made wishing pools and are dry and the exotic tropical plants are long gone, replaced by native and well adjusted species. Seattle City Lights Co. has restored the evening light show along the trail to Ladder Creek Falls with LED colored lights from dusk to midnight - if anyone wanted to hang around that late in Newhalem.

Certainly not the most stunning of gardens, but an interesting little walk in what was 100 years ago a truly magical sight to see, as Americans innovated and banished the darkness with electric lights, available at the mere flick of a switch. We forget how essential and beneficial electricity is to our lives.

Wooden bridge through the Rock Garden

Rock Garden in May Flower Blooms