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