September is a great month for a day hike. I shared my hike to Mount Pilchuck’s historical, restored fire lookout in a story in Sunday’s Seattle Times.
The mountain also has some historical significance for me. I’m old enough to remember seeing the lights from the old ski area at the top of the mountain while driving down I-5 in the early 70s.
This was a story that was decades in the making. As a young boy, I remember riding in the car over Stevens Pass and my dad pointing out, “you see those collapsed snowsheds over there? An avalanche of snow wiped out a passenger train, and many people lost their lives.”
So when Seattle Times Features Editor Stefanie Loh pitched a story idea to me about “hiking for history buffs” I knew exactly where I wanted to go – the “Iron Goat Trail” that follows the ill-fated Great Northern Railway route built in the late 1800s. I never made it to the actual spot where the 1910 “Wellington Avalanche” took out an awaiting passenger train named the “Spokane Express.” But I was in the vicinity, imagining what life was like when trains rumbled across the side of Windy Mountain on their way to the West.
For the second “history hike,” I chose to travel to the ghost town of Monte Cristo. In its heyday, in the late 1890s, this old mining town pumped out millions of dollars of silver ore.
The story was published August 1 on the cover of the Mix section of the Sunday Times.
Many thanks to my hiking companions: Jeff Whidden, who accompanied this old goat to the Iron Goat Trail; and Bill Cheney, my partner on the trail to Monte Cristo. Together, we experienced the full Monte. As much as I enjoyed these walks through history, it was the conversations along the trail I treasured most.
I would be remiss if I didn’t include a link to the story in The Times. If you hit the paywall, and are unable to subscribe (which I highly recommend), here’s the story below with additional photos The Times didn’t have room for or deemed unworthy.https://www.seattletimes.com/life/outdoors/history-in-the-hills-2-classic-pacific-northwest-hikes-for-history-buffs/
By Rick Lund
Special to The Seattle Times
There’s history in them thar hills.
Hiking in the Pacific Northwest, it’s easy to focus on the majestic waterfalls, rugged peaks, deep valleys and Alpine meadows and lakes. What can be easily overlooked are hidden relics of the past.
Here, we take a step back in time and imagine what life was like in the Cascades more than a century ago, and marvel at the herculean efforts that were required to cut through mountains of granite, whether it was for a rail route to the West or a way to unearth gold and silver.
For old times sake, here’s two classic hikes for history buffs:
Iron Goat Trail
Talk about a leisurely stroll through history. There’s so much to like about this trail, it’s hard to know where to begin.
But let’s start with this: It’s easy. This is a great trail for hikers of all ages, from kids to retired folks. Yes, even an old goat can navigate the Iron Goat.
The grade is gentle because it follows the old Great Northern railroad grade that was built over the Cascades in the late 1890s. The temptation is to put yourself in overdrive and cruise this wide, gravel trail at a fast clip. But that would be a serious mistake.
Take your time reading the interpretive signs along the 6-mile loop that tell of the history of a rail route that’s been abandoned for nearly 100 years. The signs along the trail with numbers are the miles to St. Paul, Minnesota, where the railroad originated. You pass old tunnels and snowsheds in various stages of collapse. Once engineering marvels, they have been reduced to ghosts of the past as they slowly succumb to the forest.
The place reeks of history. You can smell it in the air. Peering into a tunnel I could almost imagine the whistle of an oncoming train rumbling along the railroad grade that is now engulfed by ferns, trees and boulders. Then I actually hear a train whistle, only to realize it’s coming from Highway 2 below as a train enters the current tunnel near Scenic. It’s an eerie feeling.
We started our hike at the Martin Creek trailhead just east of Skykomish, choosing to do the loop counter-clockwise beginning with the lower trail. Fairly early on, the trail passes the famed “twin tunnels.” Sandwiched between the two concrete behemoths is what’s left of a wooden show shed made of large timbers, some of which were up to 30 feet long. Remnants of the old timber snowsheds are plentiful along the loop, most of them totally flattened over time by avalanches and blowdowns.
At one point you’re hit by a continual blast of cold air coming from a wall of rock. The kiosk nearby describes this as an “adit,” a short tunnel that was used to gain access to the center of one of the twin tunnels during construction. Once the tunnel was in use, the adit served as a ventilation shaft. On this warm day, the cold air was refreshing. I could have spent hours sitting here during our heat wave in late June.
One can’t help but note the dates “1914” stamped into the concrete of the tunnel portals. These concrete tunnels were not a part of the original track, which at the time of its construction was considered the model transcontinental railroad route in America.
Of course, this well-intentioned route to reach the enormous quantities of timber, minerals and agricultural lands west of the Cascades in the Pacific Northwest — when there was neither road nor railroad access — had a short lifespan. The old rail route was no match for winter weather in the Cascades. Trains were constantly delayed by sliding snow in the winter, known today as “Cascade Concrete.” In the summer, falling boulders onto the track also caused delays.
And then on March 1, 1910, the unthinkable happened. As two trains were waiting out a late-winter storm on the tracks at Wellington, a wall of snow 14 feet high swept down Windy Mountain and slammed into the trains, hurtling them 150 feet down into the Tye River gorge.
The “Wellington Avalanche” claimed 96 passengers and crew, one of the deadliest rail disasters in U.S. history. By 1929 trains were diverted to the newly-built 7.8-mile tunnel at a lower elevation under Stevens Pass between Scenic and Berne that is still in use today.
The majority of the massive concrete tunnels and concrete-sided snow sheds were built after the 1910 avalanche to avert a similar tragedy. These “combination snow sheds” were built of concrete on the mountain side of the track and covered by a timber roof. The most impressive concrete-enforced snowshed can be seen on the east end of the lower loop, stretching for more than one-third of a mile. The amount of concrete used for the project, likely hauled by steam donkey in that era, is mind boggling.
Just before the 3-mile mark, a paved turn to the right leads to Scenic and an alternative trailhead by the red caboose. It should be noted that by starting at Scenic at Highway 2 and doing the 6-mile loop clockwise, the elevation gains along the railroad grade are more gradual, and you lose 700 feet of elevation on the crossover trail back to your vehicle.
We pressed on ahead, climbing the Windy Point crossover trail to the upper trail, which requires a climb of 700 feet to reach the upper switchback of the old railway. A left turn at this intersection takes you back to the Martin Creek trailhead. By turning right, it’s 3 miles to the Wellington trailhead and by the 1910 avalanche site, adding about 6 miles to your round trip.
We took the signs for Wellington, stopping for lunch a quarter of a mile down the trail at the Windy Pt. overlook. But after scrambling around a couple tree blowdowns on the trail, we came upon a section of the trail taken out by an avalanche that was too expansive to get around. Disappointed, we turned around and headed back to the Martin Creek trailhead.
The upper trail isn’t as wide and well-maintained as the lower trail. But it’s still beautiful. A short side trail up a set of stairs takes you to the “Spillway Spur” and where an old reservoir was. It’s worth taking, though the trail is rough.
I’m told remants of the old Martin Creek horseshoe tunnel and trestle can be seen by leaving the designated trail. That will have to wait for another day.
About the Iron Goat Trail
Distance: 6 miles round trip (the loop between Martin Creek and Scenic)
Elevation gain: 700 feet. Highest point: 2,800 feet.
Did you know? The Iron Goat Trail is named after the goat in the logo of the now-defunct Great Northern Railway.
GETTING THERE
Martin Creek trailhead: Take Highway 2 toward Stevens Pass to Milepost 55. Turn left onto the paved Old Cascade Highway. At the junction with Forest Road 6710, take a left on the gravel road. In 1.4 miles, you’re at the trailhead.
Wellington trailhead: Take Highway 2 to Tye Road, also known as the Old Cascade Highway, which is just west of the Stevens Pass Ski Area. Follow the rough but passable pavement for 3.5 miles. Turn right into the parking lot.
Monte Cristo
There really was gold and silver in these hills back in the day. Joe Pearsall and Frank Peabody discovered the rich vein of precious metals in the summer of 1889, the same year Washington became a state.
Between then and 1907, the town of Monte Cristo was teeming with activity. Mines above the town pumped out millions of dollars in minerals. This was not a poor prospector’s game, but rather was backed by big corporations with deep pockets. A railroad was built between Monte Cristo and Everett to carry the processed silver ore to a smelter. The mining boom lured thousands of men to this isolated mining town, which is about four miles from today’s Mountain Loop Highway in eastern Snohomish County.
All that’s left 114 years later are traces of what this town was.
Rusted-out bed frames, mining tools and pieces of railroad track and railway cars and other relics are randomly strewn around, as if they’re props for a play. Street signs are posted where the town’s busy streets used to run – which is hard to imagine, because while the swaths are wide enough, the ground is hardly level. Only portions of the foundations of the town’s original buildings remain. Other weather-worn, ancient-looking, wood buildings in various stages of collapse at first glance appear to be original structures — until you realize they were actually built after this boom town went bust.
Having said that, if you like history and beautiful scenery, this hike is for you.
The trailhead is at Barlow Pass on the Mountain Loop Highway 30 miles east of Granite Falls, and is popular with hikers and bikers. There’s several parking spots by the trailhead and a parking lot across the highway. If you’re hiking on the weekend, get there early.
Like the Iron Goat Trail, this 8-mile round trip to the ghost town of Monte Cristo is easy. The trail follows a route taken by miners more than a century ago and, more recently, a gravel road that has been closed for several years. The trail for the most part sticks to the road, except for a large section where it is diverted around a portion of the road that was washed out by flooding of the south fork of the beautiful Sauk River.
A nice, pedestrian bridge over the Sauk marks the entrance to Monte Cristo. Remnants of an old railway turntable are off to the right. A group of boys pushes one end of the rusty girder, swinging it in circular fashion. Interpretive signs tell of the town’s history. Private cabins built in the 1950s ring the grassy area, which not only includes remnants of a power house and water tower, but modern picnic tables for lunch.
Head farther up the trail to get the full Monte. Soon you’ll pass the foundation of what was once the Monte Cristo Lodge, the last bastion of tourism at the old mining town.
While the financial crisis in the U.S. in 1907, better known as “The Panic of 1907,” signaled the end of most of the mining at Monte Cristo, the town for years afterward was a resort destination. Tourists could board a train in Everett and travel to Monte Cristo for a picnic, or even stay at the Royal Hotel, which would eventually become the Monte Cristo Lodge. The railroad was scrapped in 1933, leaving tourists to travel by car, which they could still do up until 1980. But when there was flooding in December of that year, and the county decided not to make bridge or road repairs, it proved to be the death knell for the lodge. It promptly closed, and burned to the ground in 1983 under suspicious circumstances.
Another foot bridge heads toward the “downtown district” of once was the heart of this old mining town. We’re stopped by a woman wearing a cap that read “The Mayor of Monte Cristo.” She offered us a tootsie pop — which we declined — but we took her up on her offer to let us tour a cabin she owns that was built in 1926 from the ruins of the old town. She wears the cap because she says the cabin was once owned by her hero, the self-annointed, unofficial mayor of Monte Cristo, Garda Fogg, who began backpacking in the Cascades in the early 1900s.
Located near the top of (the route formerly known as ) “Dumas Street” is the remains of the famed “Concentrator,” where tons of ore arrived by tramway from hillside mines and were processed by coal-powered steam machinery. In its heyday, a typical week’s shipment to the American Smelting and Refining Company in Everett in the summer of 1896 was more than 1,000 tons, worth $920,000 in 2016 dollars.
While those days are long gone, the history in these hills will never fade away. You just have to look for it.
Rick Lund is a former assistant sports editor with The Seattle Times
About Monte Cristo
Distance: 8 miles round trip. Elevation gain: 700 feet. Highest point: 2,800 feet.
Did you know? The initial gold and silver strike at Monte Cristo was backed by New York financiers with ties to John D. Rockefeller.
GETTING THERE
Barlow Pass trailhead: From Granite Falls, follow the Mountain Loop Highway (530) east for 30 miles.
I have a deep affinity for college basketball and football venues. It’s no secret to Vicki, our daughters (trust me, they have childhood memories of trips to college campuses to prove it), or anyone who knows me very well. For me, it’s as if the place the game is played is as interesting as the game itself.
So imagine my excitement when I had the opportunity to visit the holy grail of all college basketball venues: Historic Hinkle Fieldhouse on the campus of Butler University on the north outskirts of Indianapolis. We had flown to Indy the night before, and were on our way to Valparaiso on Memorial Day weekend to meet our two-week-old grandson, Aksel, celebrate daughter Greta’s 34th birthday, and her 2-year-old daughter Ida’s birthday the following week.
“How about we visit Butler University on our way to Valparaiso?” I asked Vicki, before our trip. These questions are usually met with a rolling-of-the-eyes look. But because she was already familiar with the Butler gym –the two of us in March had watched several NCAA Tournament games played at Indianapolis-area arenas, including Hinkle – she was game.
I called the athletics department at Butler and asked if we could get a peek at the fieldhouse. I explained I was a recently retired Seattle Times journalist, and that it was a dream of mine to visit this most hallowed hardwood in basketball-crazed Indiana. An athletics representative named Kelsey said “sure, I’ll give you a tour.”
Kelsey and a security guard named Martin met us at the front entrance to the brick building, which is marked by a statue of the arena’s namesake, Tony Hinkle, a longtime coach and athletic director at Butler. We walked through the narrow concourse that surrounds the arena, gazing at the historic photos and trophies along the way. Then Martin unlocked the door that led us to the fieldhouse floor.
There she was, in all her glory, as I had imagined it. The arching steel roof trusses, and the windows at each of the end of the fieldhouse that prompted former Butler star guard Shelvin Mack to say there’s nothing like a Saturday afternoon game at Butler “with the sun coming in and everyone singing the Butler fight song.”
Hinkle Fieldhouse, which opened in 1927, is a gem. I could smell history in the air.
For more than 40 years, Hinkle was the stage for Indiana’s high-school basketball state tournament. In 1954, in a game that would define basketball in Indiana, tiny Milan High school (enrollment 161) beat Muncie Central for the state championship, which proved to be the inspiration for the iconic 1986 movie “Hoosiers.” In that era, all schools big and small competed in the same tournament. To put this game in perspective, this would be the state-of-Washington equivalent of La Conner High School beating Seattle’s Garfield High for the state title.
As I walked onto the floor of the old barn, which reminded me of the University of Washington’s original Hec Edmundson Pavilion built in the same era, I also imagined what this place felt like during Butler’s banner 2009-2010 season. That was the year the Bulldogs sprang onto the national stage under coach Brad Stevens, who would leave Butler a couple years later to become the head coach of the Boston Celtics and was just promoted to the team’s GM position. Mack and teammate Gordon Hayward led the little school from Indianapolis all the way to the national championship game against Duke in nearby Lucas Oil Stadium. Hayward missed a half-court shot at the buzzer that would have given Butler its first title.
Thanks to its Final Four run, Butler’s days of toiling in obscurity are in the rear-view mirror. The small, private university with an enrollment of just over 5,000 is big time now. The Bulldogs compete in the basketball-strong Big East Conference against the likes Georgetown, Xavier, Connecticut, Marquette, DePaul, Providence, Creighton and Villanova, which Martin the security guard said is Butler’s biggest rival.
But after visiting this most sacred cathedral of basketball, I can say this about Hinkle Fieldhouse: It has no rival.
I certainly don’t consider myself an expert on backpacking equipment. But I’ve hiked enough, and accummulated enough gear over the years to know what’s needed. I used an anecdote from a group hike with Jeff Whidden and other friends in the lead of the story. He/she will remain nameless. Would never want to embarrass him/her.
Here is the full version of my story that was published May 21 in The Seattle Times. The optional items were trimmed in the story that ran in print.
By Rick Lund
Special to The Seattle Times
A few years ago, as we gathered at a meeting place for a group hike, one participant arrived with an army-style duffle bag that was supposed to serve as a backpack.
After looks of astonishment from everyone present, the leader of the group raced home and retrieved a spare backpack for the inexperienced hiker, most certainly saving that person from three days of hiking hell.
That’s a far-flung example of backpacking unpreparedness. But one can never assume first-time backpackers know what to bring on an overnight trek in the mountains.
Planning for a backpack trip should be similar to packing for a vacation trip or an even a simple trip to the grocery store. Make a list. Check it twice.
It’s also important to travel light. The weight of all the items adds up quickly in your backpack. What you think you need beforehand – multiple sets of clothing and non-essential food – might not seem like such a good idea in hindsight when you’re struggling up a steep trail in the heat of the day with an overloaded pack.
With that in mind, here’s a list of backpacking essentials, as well as some optional items, to bring on your trip:
ESSENTIALS
Backpack: Most are made of nylon with an internal frame made of steel. Sizes can range from 35-110 liters of gear capacity, and can weigh by themselves between 3-5 pounds.
Comfortable hiking boots or trail running shoes: Hiking boots will offer better ankle support, which is important on the trail.
Lightweight tent: Most backpacking tents are shaped like a dome and rely on crossing poles and guy lines to create a rigid frame. Two-person tents usually weigh between 2.5 and 5 pounds. One with a rainfly is recommended.
Down sleeping bag and compression stuff sack: Even in the middle of the summer, you might be surprised how cold it gets at night at higher elevations. It’s not uncommon to wake up to frost on the ground. Most backpacking sleeping bags weigh from 1.5 to 3 pounds.
Insulated sleeping pad: Your back will thank you for it. Trying to sleep on the hard ground, and quite possibly on a stray rock or two, is no fun. Air insulated sleeping pads don’t take up much space (many fold into a small stuff sack) and require a minimal amount of huffing and puffing to inflate.
Lightweight cooking stove and fuel: Don’t ever assume you can build a fire for cooking. Many wilderness areas prohibit campfires during hiking season. Most backpacking stoves are small, fold up easily and typically screw onto threaded tops of self-sealing, liquid fuel canisters.
Lighter to fire up the stove: A Bic lighter will do, or matches, as long as they’re protected from moisture.
Water bottles: You’d be surprised how easily you can become dehydrated along the trail, especially when it’s hot. You’ll know it when your leg muscles begin to cramp. Make sure your water bottles together hold a minimum of 2 liters of water for the trail. Keep them handy so they’re easily accessible for frequent water breaks. Also, know ahead of time where the water sources are along the trail for filtering.
Lightweight cooking pot: A pot holding one or two quarts is ideal for boiling water for a small hiking party at the campsite.
Food: Freeze-dried food has come a long way over the years. It’s light, doesn’t take up much room and requires just adding water. “Mountain House” and “Backpacker’s Pantry” are two of the more popular brands, and can be purchased at most outdoor outlets. For something more higher end, “PackitGourmet” can be ordered online. Beyond freeze-dried food, items such as bagels, mixed nuts, dried fruit, beef jerky, granola bars and granola cereal and instant oatmeal don’t take up much room, and can also be good snacks for rest breaks along the trail. Hot-chocolate mix and powdered juice mix add a little variety to water.
Water filtration device: For drinking water, it’s essential to have some sort of water filtration system to remove bacteria and giardia from the water you obtain along the trail. A pump system, a “squeeze bag” setup or a gravity filter method are among the most popular ways to move water through a microfilter. Bacteria can also be removed with iodine pills.
Collapsible water bladder or bag: For filtered water storage at your campsite. You’ll go through a lot of water for cooking, drinking and washing dishes. A bladder that holds about 6 liters of water is a good capacity.
Trekking poles: Not only are they good for balance along the trail, but they provide essential balance support when you’re walking across a fallen log or boulder-hopping a stream.
Weather-appropriate clothing: Think of the old Scandinavian mantra: “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” Make sure you have quick-drying nylon long pants, a lightweight raincoat or poncho, a stocking cap and fleece gloves for cold nights (for high-elevation hikes), a light wool or fleece sweater, a synthetic long-sleeved shirt, and hiking shorts if you’re expecting hot weather. An extra pair of socks, underwear and a fleece or wool pants for the night are also recommended.
Insect repellant: Mosquitoes and deer flies are plentiful in the mountains, and can make your life miserable. Insect repellant with a minimum 40 percent of DEET (if you’re comfortable with that) helps ward off the pesky flies. If you’re really bothered by biting bugs, a mosquito head net with an insect shield is recommended.
Sunblock and sunglasses: The sun can be intense in the mountains. It doesn’t take much to get a sunburn, especially if you’re walking on snow.
First-aid kit: Always a good idea, even if it’s a minor cut from falling along the trail.
A small flashlight or headlamp: If for whatever reason you must hike at night, or to navigate your campsite after dark, this is another essential item.
A map and compass: Most U.S. Forest Service Ranger stations have hiking maps for their region. Topographical “Green Trail” maps can also be purchased at many outdoor retail outlets. For phone-based navigation, “Maps.Me” and “Gaia GPS” are useful apps. But you’ll want to download a map of the area you’re traveling to prior to your trip since there’s a good chance you won’t have cell service on the trail.
50 feet of rope or utility cord: You’ll want to hang your food at night in a tree in a stuff sack or plastic bag to keep the bears and other critters from eating your provisions. Storing food at night in your tent is an open invitation to them to come and visit you.
A plastic hand shovel and bio-degradable toilet paper: Select a site at least 200 feet from a water source whenever possible. Bury waste in a hole three- to six-inches deep and cover with soil. Use backcountry toilets whenever possible. Where toilets are not available and digging is not possible, such as sub-alpine areas, snow, rock or glaciers, pack out waste.
Permit: A federal Northwest Forest Pass is required to park at most trailheads on Forest Service trails, a backcountry permit is required on many national park trails, and a Discover Pass at some lower-elevation trails, particularly at state parks. You don’t want to return to your vehicle to find a ticket on your windshield.
OPTIONAL
Camera: One with a telephoto lens that’ll get you closer than what your smartphone can offer.
Teva-style sandals: Always feels good to take off the dusty, sweaty hiking boots and slip into something more comfortable at the campsite.
Lightweight rain pants: If you’re expecting rainy weather.
Swimsuit: Nothing like taking a dip in a stream or alpine lake (if you can stand the cold temperature!) in the afternoon to wash off the dirt and grime from the trail.
Insulated vest or light jacket: If you get cold easily.
Duct tape: It can come in handy. Some hikers store it by wrapping a small roll around a trekking pole.
Lightweight camp chair: There are no picnic tables at mountain-trail campsites. You’re lucky to find a log to sit on. If you’re looking for a little more comfort and willing to pack an extra 2 pounds or so, a compact, a collapsible chair will fold into a fairly small bag to place in your backpack.
Lastly, you should always let someone know when you’re going and when you plan to be back. And don’t assume you can make a call on your cell phone if you’re lost, stranded or running behind schedule. Cell service is virtually non-existent, or at best spotty, in the mountains. It’s also a good idea to document your start date, expected return date and the number of people in your hiking party at the “sign-in” sheets, which are posted at many trailheads.
Rick Lund is a former Times assistant sports editor
When I was a young boy, our family would occasionally make our way up Chuckanaut Drive after church to have Sunday dinner at the Oyster Bar.
The Oyster Bar back then wasn’t anything like today version, which is gourmet and pricey, a restaurant you’d go to celebrate a special occasion, like your wedding anniversary.
The “original” Oyster Bar was more like Ivar’s Salmon House light. It had more of a casual dining feel. Your modestly-priced dinner — oysters, breaded prawns or fish and chips were the usual main fare – arrived on a plain, dinner plate, not the fancy china delivered to your table today. It always came with a crab cocktail appetizer, which I still remember today as very tasty.
But what was really memorable were the words prominently printed on the menu:
“The oysters you eat today, slept last night in Samish Bay.”
Little did I know then a trailhead just across the road from the restaurant led to a rocky vista that looked down on Samish Bay and the surrounding Salish Sea … before it was called the Salish Sea. The final destination on the trail is appropriately called Oyster Dome.
I hiked that trail for the very first time last week. Don’t know why it took me so long. It’s one of the low-elevation, spring hikes I’ve recommended for a story that will be published soon in The Seattle Times.
The shallow, firm-bottomed waters of Samish Bay are ideal for growing oysters. No surprise the northern shores of the bay are home to a shellfish farm, and a longtime oyster-specialty restaurant just up the hill on scenic Chuckanut Drive in its early days touted this memorable slogan:
“The oysters you eat today, slept last night in Samish Bay.”
The pearl of this oyster haven looms high overhead. It’s Oyster Dome, a rocky promontory on the western slope of Blanchard Mountain and the pride of the Chuckanut Mountain range.
And when it comes to day hikes, unlike the oysters below, don’t sleep on this one. The views of the Salish Sea from 2,025-foot Oyster Dome are jaw dropping.
To the left is the Skagit River flats, Samish Island, Guemes Island, Anacortes, and Mount Erie near Deception Pass. To the right is the south end of Lummi Island, and straight ahead, the San Juan Islands. Orcas Island is particularly conspicuous among the islands, thanks in part to Mount Constitution, which pokes just 373 feet higher than Oyster Dome.
Framing all this way in the background are the snowcapped Olympic Mountains.
It’s best to begin the hike at the Samish Outlook parking area on Blanchard Mountain. From the trailhead, you’ll start on a section of the Pacific Northwest Trail, descending slightly for 0.4 of a mile before the junction with the Samish Bay connector and trail to Chuckanut Drive.
At this point, give yourself a high five. Not only have you saved time and nearly 1,000 feet of elevation gain by not starting on Chuckanut Drive, the alternative trailhead, your vehicle also isn’t precariously parked on the shoulder of the busy road.
The rest of the 2.5-mile ascent to Oyster Dome is fairly gentle. At about the 2-mile mark you’ll come to a junction for the trail to nearby Lily and Lizard lakes, a camping option for the overnight backpacker.
A final scramble up the hill lands you upon Oyster Dome. Take a break, have lunch, watch an occasional bald eagle fly by, and take in the breathtaking views.
The loop has closed. All three of our daughters are now married, and their dad couldn’t be happier, more grateful.
Our beloved middle daughter, Sonja, was the last to tie the knot. She and JB Foreman exchanged vows April 3 on the dock at College Club, a boathouse and headquarters for a rowing club on the shores of Seattle’s Lake Union.
The bride and groom arrived at the wedding venue in a boat – Sonja’s longtime dream on her wedding day — and left in a boat. Now Sonja and her sisters are all in the same boat.
Sandwiched between Good Friday and Easter, I guess you could say this was “Good Saturday.” This day was good in every way.
We all knew the day Sonja got married would be cause for considerable celebration. Her sisters Krista and Greta were both married the summer of 2009. Sonja took her time. We all wondered “when is Sonja going to meet ‘The One?’” Even Sonja wondered from time to time.
“If you would have told me in 2009 that I wouldn’t get married for another 12 years I would have been really depressed,” she told Vicki and I in January, shortly after her and JB were engaged.
It wasn’t like boys weren’t interested in her. I’m a little biased here, but anyone who knows her will agree with this assessment: She’s gorgeous, smart and a kind, caring person.
She dated several guys. But none checked all the boxes, including that her future husband be a man of faith.
“She was picky,” said JB, not trying to sound smug, but agreeing with my “gorgeous, smart and strong faith” description when the two of us met in early January so he could ask me for her hand.
As a father who helped raise three girls – all of whom I adore — I am glad she was choosy. She could easily have settled. But she didn’t.
JB, like my other two sons-in-law, is a man of integrity. He is a man of deep faith, will be an excellent provider and shares Sonja’s adventurous spirit and zest for life.
The nautical theme for the wedding was right up his alley, or in his case, boat slip. He’s a licensed boat captain, a yacht broker and the owner of an invention company. He wore “boat shoes” and a “boat rope belt” with his suit at the ceremony.
Sonja had always told her friends that when she met “The One,” she would fall fast. That would be the case with JB. The two were introduced to each other by JB’s sister, Katie, a classmate of Sonja’s at Seattle Pacific University. But it took awhile for the romance to begin.
Sonja had confided in Krista she had a crush on JB, but didn’t quite know how to start the relationship. Sonja made the first move, and the two began dating in May of last year. Within seven months they were engaged.
Unfortunately, not all extended family members and friends of Sonja and JB were able to attend this much-anticipated wedding. COVID-19 restrictions kept the number of attendees to 50.
But friends and family were able to watch the ceremony, which was streamed live on Zoom. Earlier-in-the-week forecasts for rain, thankfully, never materialized. Under cloudy skies, but comfortable 63-degree temperatures, and with waves lapping up to the dock, Sonja and JB’s dreams came true.
A Good Saturday, indeed.
These are heady times for Oregon State fans. The Beavers, picked in preseason to finish last in the Pac-12, won their first-ever conference tournament on Saturday night, thereby earning a rare appearance in the NCAA Tournament this week against Tennessee.
Forgive them if they’re acting like they haven’t been there before. They actually have. It’s just been awhile since OSU has been relevant. I’m dating myself here, but I remember a time when an Oregon State team in the NCAA Tournament was a familiar rite of spring. Unless you followed the old Pac-10 in the late 1970s and 1980s, it’s almost hard to imagine today the school from Corvallis was a national power. But it was real.
Coached by the masterful Ralph Miller, “The Orange Express,” as they were called then, rolled through the Pac-10 for a chunk of the 1980s virtually unchecked. And that included dominating UCLA, which wasn’t that far removed from the dynasty teams in the 1970s under legendary coach John Wooden.
OSU won the conference title easily four of five seasons between 1980 and 1984, never losing more than three league games. The Beavers went to the postseason 10 of the last 11 seasons under Miller. The 1981-82 team went all the way to the NCAA Elite Eight before falling to Patrick Ewing and the Georgetown Hoyas.
The 1980-81 team, which finished 17-1 in the Pac-10 and 26-2 overall, was particularly menacing, and one of the better college basketball teams I’ve ever seen. The Beavers were ranked No. 1 in the nation eight weeks that season, defeated UCLA twice, mauled rival Oregon three times by a combined 54 points and beat St. John’s in New York City.
The Beavers didn’t just beat teams. They destroyed them.
I witnessed one of those beatdowns on a rainy February evening in Corvallis in ’81 as a fledgling sportswriter for The News-Review in Roseburg, Oregon. I didn’t cover a lot of Beaver games in those days. After all, it was more than a two-hour drive to Corvallis. But this one caught my attention. The opponent was Washington, a school I had followed closely growing up in the Skagit Valley. Adding further interest to the game was Marv Harshman’s Huskies, that hated team from the north, had taken the unbeaten and No. 1-ranked Beavers to overtime in Seattle one month earlier, before succumbing 97-91.
It was my first visit to venerable Gill Coliseum, and one I will never forget. It seemed every one of the 10,059 fans in the building that night were on their feet when the mighty Beavers confidently took the floor as the pep band, swaying back and forth, blared the school’s fight song, “Hail to Old OSU.” I still get goosebumps just thinking about it.
The details are a little hazy 40 years later, but I recall the Beavers jumped on UW early with a smothering defense. Steve Johnson, OSU’s 6-10 All-American center, also had a monster game backing down UW’s Kenny Lyles and Dan Caldwell for easy buckets. Johnson would set an NCAA record that season for field-goal percentage (.746% that stood until 2017)
I’m sure there were a lot of “Holy jumpin’ up and down Martha” exclamations on the radio that night, OSU play-by-play man Darrell Aune’s signature call when the Beavs did something great. The Beavers dismantled the Huskies that night, 89-63. And it wasn’t even that close.
After the game, in a scene that in retrospect seems unfathomable, the nattily-dressed Miller sat cross-legged in a chair and fielded questions while puffing on a tiparillo cigar. You would never see a coach today smoking during a press conference. But Miller was a well-known chain smoker, who puffed often during practice, in his office, and on the team bus. His smoking habit would catch up with him at the end. He passed away in 2001 at the age of 82 from congestive heart failure and complications from emphysema.
Believe me, I’m not blowing smoke when I tell you the 1980-81 team would blow away the current Beaver outfit that’s headed for the Big Dance. They sliced and diced opponents with precision passing, an art that was perfected in practice when Miller insisted the team use a deflated basketball that couldn’t be bounced. Miller never would have tolerated today’s game of one-on-one dribbling.
The Beavers had all the pieces for a Final Four run. While Johnson hailed from San Bernardino, California, most of the talented nucleus was home-grown: Sharp-shooting, all-Pac-10 guards Mark Radford (Grant High of Portland) and Ray Blume (Parkrose of Portland) and forwards Rob Holbrook (Parkrose), Jeff Stoutt (Lake Oswego) and Charlie Sitton, a promising freshman out of McMinnville. Reserve guard Lester Conner, out of Oakland, California, was a premier defender, and would become an All-American the following season.
The season, however, would end with a thud in the second round of the NCAA Tournament. The Beavers were upset by No. 8 seed Kansas State on a last-second shot by future NBA star Rolando Blackman. The buzzer-beating basket would be immortalized the following week on the cover of Sports Illustrated.
The Beavers would go on to have many more successful seasons under Miller. He would recruit and coach many more great players, including A.C. Green, another local product out of Benson Tech in Portland who would later play many seasons in the NBA. And of course, perhaps his greatest player, future Seattle SuperSonic legend Gary Payton.
Once Miller retired in 1989, handing over the reins to longtime assistant Jimmy Anderson, the Beavers never came close to the success they enjoyed under the crusty old coach from Chanute, Kansas. Miller definitely left his mark. He was a two-time national coach of the year (1981 and 1982), and in 1988, just before his final season, was elected into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. The Beavers play today on what is known as “Ralph Miller Court.”
While Miller wouldn’t always approve of the shot selection these modern-day Beavers are taking, I’m sure he’s proud of the job current coach Wayne Tinkle has done.
Looking down on all this, he’s probably smiling – and, of course, smoking.
Ralph Miller’s record in his 19 seasons at Oregon State
| Season | W-L (Conf.) | Place | W-L (Overall) | Postseason |
| 1970-71 | 4-10 | 6th | 12-14 | |
| 1971-72 | 9-5 | 3rd | 18-10 | |
| 1972-73 | 6-8 | 5th | 15-11 | |
| 1973-74 | 6-8 | 5th | 13-13 | |
| 1974-75 | 10-4 | 2nd | 19-12 | NCAA, 2nd round |
| 1975-76 | 10-4 | 2nd | 18-9* | |
| 1976-77 | 8-6 | 3rd | 16-13 | |
| 1977-78 | 9-5 | 2nd | 16-11 | |
| 1978-79 | 11-7 | 3rd | 18-10 | NIT, 1st round |
| 1979-80 | 16-2 | 1st | 26-4 | NCAA, 2nd round |
| 1980-81 | 17-1 | 1st | 26-2 | NCAA, 2nd round |
| 1981-82 | 16-2 | 1st | 25-5 | NCAA, Elite Eight |
| 1982-83 | 12-6 | 3rd | 20-11 | NIT, quarterfinals |
| 1983-84 | 15-3 | 1st | 22-7 | NCAA, 1st round |
| 1984-85 | 12-6 | 2nd | 22-9 | NCAA, 1st round |
| 1985-86 | 8-10 | 5th | 12-15 | |
| 1986-87 | 10-8 | 3rd | 19-11 | NIT, 2nd round |
| 1987-88 | 12-6 | 2nd | 20-11 | NCAA, 1st round |
| 1988-89 | 13-5 | 3rd | 22-8 | NCAA, 1st round |
| Total | 205-114 | 342-198 |
With apologies to soccer star David Beckham, no one could bend it like Bob Bender.
He had it all. Good looks. Infectious personality. Energetic recruiter. A son of a successful high-school basketball coach. A standout player at Indiana and Duke, two of college basketball’s blueblood programs. A coaching disciple of legendary Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski.
Arriving at the University of Washington in 1993 as its 17th basketball coach, Bender had his work cut out for him. The program he inherited from Lynn Nance was in disarray.
But Bender had big plans. He had every intention of building the Huskies into “the Duke of the West.”
When his Husky team advanced to the Sweet 16 in 1998, coming within a buzzer-beater putback by UConn’s “Rip” Hamilton from moving to the Elite Eight, UW was looking a lot like Coach K’s teams from Durham, North Carolina. Bender’s star was soaring as high as Microsoft stock. Texas and other suitors lined up to lure him away. But four years later he was out the door, caught in the spin cycle of a “what-have-you-have-done-for-me-lately” culture that is not only indicative of our society today, but is especially true of college and professional sports.
I caught up with Bender in early January to talk about the current woes of UW’s basketball program. He expressed empathy for the “down cycle” Mike Hopkins is currently going through, recognizing how difficult it is to sustain a winning program in today’s era of one-and-done players and the increasingly popular transfer portal. He cited North Carolina and Kentucky’s recent struggles as examples that even the best college programs go through tough times. He certainly experienced a dropoff at Washington. It would cost him dearly.
After taking the Huskies to back-to-back NCAA Tournament berths, Bender’s last three teams never came close to reaching the postseason. But help was on the way. He had secured Brandon Roy and Nate Robinson in his final recruiting class. He never got to coach them. Instead, the two future NBA stars would become the springboard for the program’s early turnaround under his successor, Lorenzo Romar. This must have been hard for Bender to watch.
According to a well-placed source, after Bender’s last game – a 86-64 loss to Oregon in the first round of the 2002 Pac-10 Tournament in which UW had jumped out to an early lead, Bender thought he was done. His wife, Alice, was seen outside the locker room crying. But when the team returned to Seattle, UW Athletic Director Barbara Hedges led Bender to believe he would be back. He held end-of-season meetings with his players with that in mind.
Ten days after the season, according to this source, Hedges reversed course and fired Bender.
For years, Bender never spoke to reporters about his ouster at UW, though I’m told they tried. He would only talk about how he enjoyed his new life as an NBA assistant coach, which he did for 15 years until his retirement two years ago. Perhaps his talking about his exit would be interpreted as sour grapes.
For whatever reason – perhaps time has at least partially healed some wounds – he graciously talked to me. After making several calls to cell phones that were either disconnected or wrong numbers, on my final attempt I reached a number that belonged to Alice. She handed the phone to Bob. He talked, at first reluctantly, then opened up as we went along.
We didn’t address his firing specifically, but he said his final team, which finished 5-13 in conference play and 11-18 overall, “fought hard, but we just didn’t get the job done.”
At the end of Bender’s tenure at UW, he didn’t have much to fight with.
When Ray Giacoletti left in 1997 to take the head coaching job at North Dakota State, Bender not only lost his trusted, top assistant coach, but also his best recruiter. Giacoletti was largely responsible for landing Todd MacCulloch, a raw, 7-foot center from Winnipeg, Manitoba, who would become an All-American, lead the nation in field-goal percentage for three seasons and finish as one of the top scorers in school history.
And he had help. The UW coaching staff spanned the globe for the other starters on the 1998 Sweet 16 team, arguably one of the most talented groups in school history:
Patrick Femmerling, a 7-foot-1 rim protector (Dusseldorf, Germany); shooting guards Deon Luton (Del City, Oklahoma) and Donald Watts (Lake Washington High, Kirkland), son of former Sonic great Slick Watts; and point guard Jan Wooten (Elizabeth, New Jersey). Bench depth included freshman forward Thalo Green (Salem, Oregon) and point guard Dan Dickau (Prairie High, Vancouver, Washington), who would later become an All-American player at Gonzaga. That team very easily could have featured Watts and future NBA star Jason Terry in the same backcourt. Both were UW verbal commits in the same class. But in a signing day surprise, Terry, who starred at Seattle’s Franklin High School, cast his lot with Lute Olson and Arizona.
Two seasons later, the bulk of that group that lost to UConn at the buzzer in the Sweet 16 had graduated, and the talent drain was underway.
Dickau transferred to Gonzaga, an alarming trend that would later see promising point guard Senque Carey leave for New Mexico and guard Erroll Knight for Gonzaga. Bender’s final three teams were, for the most part, not very athletic and undersized –unless you count 6-11, 300-pound center David Dixon, who arrived from a Texas junior college overweight and out of shape. Dixon could not play for very long stretches at a time. When he was out of the game, he was often seen on the sidelines riding an exercise bike.
Bender thought he was poised for a turnaround with Robinson and Roy on board for the 2002-2003 season. But three consecutive losing seasons at most Power Five schools today will get you fired, and that was even true back then. Looking back on it years later, Bender says he left the program in much better shape than when he arrived.
“We rebuilt the program and left a foundation for Lorenzo, and now going forward,” he told me. “It should always be in a position to have success.”
Of course we know now fans and athletic directors have a short memory when it comes to success. The Husky basketball program, just two years removed from an NCAA Tournament berth, is struggling mightily in Hopkins’ fourth season there, his team on track to one of the worst win-loss records in school history. Now fans are calling for Hopkins’ head.
| Winningest UW coaches | Wins | Years |
|---|---|---|
| 1. Clarence “Hec” Edmundson | 488 | 1921-1947 |
| 2. Lorenzo Romar | 298 | 2003-2017 |
| 3. Marv Harshman | 246 | 1972-1985 |
| 4. Tippy Dye | 156 | 1951-1959 |
| 5. Bob Bender | 116 | 1994-2002 |
The UW’s Sweet 16 run is just one of many fond memories Bender had at Washington. He and Alice started their family in Seattle, made good friends there. They spent a month last summer at Sun Valley Resort in Idaho, reconnecting with some of those friends they hadn’t seen since they left the Emerald City nearly two decades ago.
Time has moved on. People have moved on. Bender said the only person he’d recognize in the UW athletic department now would be current AD Jen Cohen, who was just beginning her climb up the ranks back then. “She was awesome,” he said.
People I talked to inside and outside the UW also liked Bender. It remains a mystery to me how this shooting star in the college basketball coaching ranks fell prematurely to earth, never to coach a college game again.
In my wide-ranging interview with him, he talked about his recollection of his first team at UW, the gut-wrenching, Sweet 16 loss to UConn, and his time in the NBA, among other topics, in my story for The Seattle Times in January. Here’s the link:
| Bender at UW | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Year | W-L (Conf.) | W-L (overall) | Pct. | Postseason |
| 1994 | 3-15 | 5-22 | .185 | |
| 1995 | 6-12 | 10-17 | .370 | |
| 1996 | 9-9 | 16-12 | .571 | NIT* |
| 1997 | 10-8 | 17-11 | .607 | NIT |
| 1998 | 11-7 | 20-10 | .667 | NCAA |
| 1999 | 10-8 | 17-12 | .586 | NCAA |
| 2000 | 5-13 | 10-20 | .333 | |
| 2001 | 4-14 | 10-20 | .333 | |
| 2002 | 5-13 | 11-18 | .379 | |
| Total | 63-99 | 116-142 | .450 |
It was supposed to be a story about backpacking in the era of COVID-19. At least that’s how I originally pitched it to an editor at The Seattle Times in the summer of 2020. There was only one problem: No official at the Wenatchee Ranger Station, which oversees the trail to Spider Meadow, wanted to talk to me.
And that was a bit unusual, because PR folks at the U.S. Forest Service have always been cooperative when I’ve asked follow-up questions for backpacking stories. But as I would surmise later, it wasn’t that they didn’t want to talk about backpacking safety in the mountains during the pandemic. Rather, it was they didn’t want to talk about Spider Meadow — already a widely-popular trail — and my story that would run online and in the printed Sunday Seattle Times in mid-August was about to make the situation worse.
So I pivoted to another angle, which was really the reason I planned this hike in the first place: The opportunity to hike with my longtime friend and hiking partner Bob Swenson, my son-in-law, Peter Richardson, and his 8-year-old son, Isaac, in what would be his backpacking debut. Peter’s friend, Karl Olson, and his 8-year-old daughter, Juniper, joined us for the three-day trek.
The trip would be an overnight (make that two) success. Any fears that Isaac or Juniper weren’t tough enough to carry a backpack up a steepening trail were quickly erased on the first day. We had perfect weather all three days, interesting conversations along the trail (one of my favorite aspects of backpacking) and a great time.
My first of three trips to Meadow Spider was in 2007 with my youngest daughter, Greta. So our recent trek there represented a passing-of-the-next-generation-torch to my grandson, Isaac, who I am very confident will become a backpacking enthusiast. It was an experience I’ll certainly never forget. And I don’t think Isaac will either. I hope for him it was the first of many backpacking adventures.
| Spider Meadow numbers | ||
|---|---|---|
| Miles from trailhead | Elevation | |
| Phelps Creek trailhead | 3,500 feet | |
| Spider Meadow | 4.5 | 4,900 feet |
| Spider Gap | 7.5 | 7,400 feet |
| Source: Wenatchee Ranger station |
Here’s a link to my story that ran in The Seattle Times on August 16.
Going the distance: Here’s a link to a story I did on long-haul hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail in 2018.
https://www.seattletimes.com/life/travel/a-day-with-long-haul-hikers-on-the-pacific-crest-trail/
All aboard! This train is summit-bound: A story I did in 2014 on a hike up Railroad Grade on Mount Baker’s south side.
Sentimental Journey: A story I did back in 2009 on a “send off” hike I did with my daughter before she got married.
https://www.seattletimes.com/life/outdoors/dad-gives-daughter-sentimental-send-off-on-hiking-date/
The Inside Scoop 