Skagit-Sauk Reach Trail

Good morning, my friends. What a beautiful day of weather we had yesterday! It was the first really warm day of our trip. I packed both long and short-sleeved shirts, and plenty of sweatshirts. Yesterday was the first time I wore a short-sleeved shirt. We're expecting similar weather today.

So we settled on the Skagit-Sauk Reach Trail. It was listed as being five miles, but with almost no elevation gain. We ended up turning around when we reached a point where it was more overgrown than we liked. Some reviewers said there was poison ivy. We didn't see any, but it was still warning enough to discourage us from going any farther when we couldn't avoid having the plants brushing up against us.

We had a short drive to the little town of Rockport, Washington. We're seeing more fall color every day.

I regret not getting a better picture of this little structure as we sped by, but I wanted you to see the quilt block there. Maybe I'll get another chance at it.

Okay, and here we are. It's barely a wide spot in the road.

The trailhead was within the boundary of Henry Miller Steelhead County Park. After parking, I took a better look at this cabin.

Here's another angle.

This cabin was built (at a different location) by settler Tom Porter, who felled two large cedar trees and built this house with his friend, Bob Kerr. It was built with no nails or pegs. Instead a special notch called a double-dove tail secured the corners. It was insulated with moss, clay, and newspaper, and it was heated with a wood-fired cook-stove. He later married Mima Kerr and had six children with her. One of the children died here, as did Mima, who died giving birth to her seventh child. A flood in 1897 forced the family to take refuge in the loft when the river flowed through the lower level. The cabin was moved to this location in 1967.

To it's right was this "shovel-nosed canoe." With honor and thanksgiving, Salish craftsmen would fell and build these canoes. They used stone axes to shape the outer hull and narrow adz blades to shape the inside. Fire was also used to char away the wood.

It took us a while, but we walked pretty much the full length of the campground in search of the trailhead.

The first thing we noticed was this sign. I'd dearly love to see the mama bear and her cub, but it's probably just as well that we didn't.

We expected to walk alongside the Skagit River, which hosts the largest population of wintering bald eagles in the United States. They feed on the chum and coco salmon returning to the river to spawn. We didn't see any eagles, and a sign informed us they generally return at the end of October. It's also one of the most important rivers for spawning salmon, and it is the only large river system in Washing State that contains all five native salmon species: coho, chinook, sockeye, chum, and pink salmon.

We were often walking on a trail littered with the fallen leaves of big leaf maple trees.

Our shadow selves had to get down and roll around in the leaves.

There weren't a lot of blooming things along the trail, but we saw blackberries.

And snowberries.

At other times, we were walking on a wide trail of mown grass. 

And although we'd thought we would be walking beside the river, we'd walked more than a mile before we could even see it. This was the first clearing we came to.

We found a large patch of this stuff. My phone tells me it is equisetum hyemale, more commonly known as horsetail or scouring rush.

It extended far into the brush on both sides of the trail.

Here the trail was boardwalk, and we crossed over Regan Creek, which was dry at this time of year.

In other places, the trail was dirt.

I'm loving all the fall color, and having the sun shining through the leaves makes it especially pretty.

Here, we crossed another narrow bridge over a running stream.

When we came to another clearing in the trees, we could get another good look at the river.

As we stood there, a jet boat went by. Mike noted that the water would be too shallow for any kind of outboard motor.

Looking in the other direction, we saw more fishermen. We also saw about a half dozen on the trail.

In the picture below, you can see the confluence of the Sauk River and the Skagit River. The Skagit is the larger river running through the middle of the image. You can just see a sliver of the Sauk just above center.

We saw lots of this moss along the way.

Close-up it's delicate and pretty.

Here's a bat house. We have a bat house at home, and I'm always happy to see these hard-working bug catchers welcomed with a home provided just for them.

There were fields of this bloomed out tansy. This was the only grouping that was still in bloom.

Also, some buttercups.

And a woolly caterpillar. Good thing I wasn't riding my bike, huh?

This peak was to the side. I tried unsuccessfully to determine its name. Maybe it doesn't have a name.

On our way back, we pulled off at a roadside park where we could see the Sauk Mountain range with its glaciered peaks.

And that was our day. When we opened the door to the camper, we found Sadie soaking up the sun in her catio. Try to ignore the cat snot on the kitty door.

We're expecting another beautiful day of weather today. We're planning a couple of short hikes today, and possibly a visit to the small town of Concrete, Washington. It's a historical town that provided concrete in the building of the dams in the area, including the Grand Coulee Dam. We'll be seeing that down the road in a few days.

And since I didn't have time for slow-stitching yesterday, I want to get some in this morning. This seems like as good a place to stop as any. The sheep are awaiting the arrival of my needle.

North Cascades National Park

Good morning, my friends. Yesterday was spent exploring North Cascades National Park. As usual, I took too many pictures. You'll probably want to top off your coffee before we go on.

So why is this a national park? Well, it's mainly the advocacy of this man, Henry Jackson, a former senator. We found the story toward the end of our day. 

We're seeing more and more fall color on our excursions.

This is another one of those parks with several entrances, many miles apart. We happen to be at the North Cascades side of the park. The visitor center is just about 10 miles from where we're staying. We wanted to check in to learn about any hikes we might enjoy, to raid their gift shop of any refrigerator magnets or shot glasses we might like to add to our collection, and to learn about any wildfire or flooding closures. So..."Closed for the Winter"? Huh? We're barely into fall, right? They must mean they will be closed for the winter.

To reach the visitor center, we had to cross this one-lane bridge. There were traffic signals at both ends.

I'd read we could see burn scar leading up to the visitor center. Sure enough.

There was plenty of parking in the parking lot...always appreciated. Here's the visitor center.

Oooh, but zooming in...

Okay, so join with me now as I once again evoke Gilda Radner as Emily Letilla..."Never mind."

No worries. There was an information board outside, and I took pictures of the info on any hikes we might like to do. We drove up the road about five miles to the little town of Newhalem. Newhalem is a company town owned by Seattle City Light with residency limited to employees and contractors of the Skagit River Hydroelectric Project, or of local county, state or federal agencies. (I'll say more about that in a minute.) The name "Newhalem" has its roots in a local indigenous language as meaning 'Goat Snare'. The natives used to trap mountain goats in the area. In pre-colonial times, the site was inhabited by members of the Upper Skagits. 

We were there to do the Trail of the Cedars hike. We parked and headed for the trailhead. Along the way, I saw these pretty blooming things:

We'd driven past the trailhead the first time through town, which turned out to be a good thing. (I'll say more about that in a minute too.) I'm not sure how we missed it because the trailhead was marked with a big sign and a suspension bridge.

Is this tribute precious, or what?

We crossed the bridge over the Skagit River. (Pronounced SKA-jit.) The river is free-flowing from here to the Puget Sound.

It was once important in navigation and log drives. Salmon spawn in the tributaries downstream from here. They were never able to spawn farther upstream because of a natural barrier. (I'll say more about that in a minute too.) Looking in the other direction, it looked like this:

This sign was interesting, and we saw a lot of warning signs about the possibility of rapid increase in the water level.

This was a short loop trail, about a mile in length. Much of the information on the signs related to a fire in 1922 that burned on the east side of the river. Of course, trees are destroyed in a fire, but some resist the flames. New types of plants invade and re-establish. Over decades and centuries, a forest will re-establish itself similar to what it was before the fire. 

As an example...paper birch. It grows from seeds carried by the wind, and it takes over quickly after a forest fire. Young trees cannot survive in the shade, and so paper birch is eventually replaced by trees that can tolerate shade. Here's one:

Old-growth Douglas fir is able to withstand ground fires because of its thick, furrowed bark. On the other hand, the Western Redcedar is more susceptible to fire damage because of its relatively thin fibrous bark and shallow root system. Here's an example of a cedar that continues to survive despite being burned in its center.

Looking up, the tree is still alive.

I love its lacy foliage.

Here are the three tree stumps.

Behind, we could see the rotting remains of them.

Here, you can see all the way through the trunk of the tree below. Most mature Western Redcedar are rotten in the middle from a fungus that will rot the "heartwood." However, a toxic substance in the "sapwood" will resist the attack. It's nutrients are carried in the outer wood of the tree, and so it can survive without the heartwood. If the tree is girdled, however, it will die. In the image below, you can see the opening near the top of the center dark wedge.

Speaking of fungus...

This was about the size of a golf ball.

Okay, and I've already mentioned the area's penchant for flooding. If you happen to hear the roar of cascading floodwaters, this is what you should do. Go that way.

Just follow me, and we'll go up the hillside right here.

At the far end of the loop, we encountered the Newhalem Powerhouse. It was originally built in 1921 and supplied electricity to operate a sawmill at the construction camp for the Gorge Dam. (I'll say more about that in a minute.) It caught fire and burned in 1966. A break in an associated penstock pipe used to transport water from the dam to the powerhouse caused water to spray the surrounding trees, thus saving the forest. What we saw here was the new powerhouse that was put into operation in 1970.

Also...this: It's a "tailrace barrier" that prevents salmon from taking a wrong turn.

Water flowing from the powerhouse was diverted from Newhalem Creek, but then returned to the river. The entrance to Newhalem Creek is downstream of where we were standing. For spawning salmon the missed turn into Newhalem Creek would send them into the powerhouse. This barrier prevents that from happening.

A nearby sign posed the question, "Can't salmon jump that high?" As it turns out the water will be shallow here. In shallow water, a salmon's tail isn't completely under water, and so it can't gain the momentum it needs to jump the barrier. Also, water is flowing over the upper portion. The high speed of the flow ensures that salmon won't get into trouble here.

I wish I'd stood at a different angle for this next picture. It shows four Western Redcedars growing in a straight row, as if they'd been planted that way. As it turns out, they all got their start on the same nurse log.

We were nearing the end of the loop by then. We walked down to the river where the bridge was above us.

These pretty fall leaves were growing there.

Okay, now I promised you a few things "in a minute." Here's where we start on that. Because we'd taken a wrong turn earlier, we noticed the Gorge Powerhouse. It is a part of the Skagit Hydroproject to Seattle, and first began delivering power to Seattle in 1924. The rushing water underneath the powerhouse produced up to 170 megawatts of power, enough to light up almost 9,000 homes.

We're going to cross this narrow suspension bridge to the right. It was originally built in 1920 to allow construction workers access to the powerhouse site. It has been rebuilt twice, most recently in 1983.

We're going to cross over to see...

It's a narrow bridge, barely wide enough for two average size adults to pass one another.

From there, the river looked like this:

We're going to hike up to see the falls in a minute. We didn't see anything that resembled a "garden" here. Maybe we just weren't looking in the right place. But the gardens were the creation of James Delmage Ross. He was Seattle City Light's second superintendent and the son of a Scottish horticulturalist. He combined his love of plants with his interest in electricity. Starting in 1925, he created a garden surrounding the powerhouse for visitors' entertainment and enjoyment. 

Public tours were conducted beginning in 1922. Tours originated in Seattle and were three-day events. The gardens and Ladder Creek Falls became a highlight of the tours. This was the only thing we saw that in any way resembled a garden.

So, let's just head on up the dusty trail toward the falls, shall we? Follow me.

And, well, let's let Emily Letilla weigh in again: Never mind.

We're assuming the bridge here was closed because of that broken off snag blocking the path. We briefly considered climbing over the barrier, but the bridge looked a little rickety. We decided it wasn't our day to die.

No worries. We're going to climb some stairs up to see Fish Ladder Falls. We have a lot of steps ahead of us, but you guys are fit as fiddles. I have complete faith in you. Let's go.

Watch your step on those wet rocks. They can be slippery.

Huff. Puff. Huff. Puff. You can take a little breather here.

We're not there yet. C'mon...you can do it!

We're not there yet...just a little way farther.

And there it is! Look at you! You made it!

This was a huge waterfall that fell in various stages, lending to its name "Fish Ladder Falls." Below is a little video of it.

Okay, and so from there, we headed back down the stairs, back across the bridge to our car. Our next stop would be the Diablo Lake Overlook. We passed through a tunnel, and you know that always excites us.

Along our way, we passed by a sign directing us to the Gorge Overlook Trail. It would give us views of free-flowing cascades of water and the Gorge Dam. It was a short hike of just 400 yards. From one of the overlooks, we could see this:

And from here, we could see the Gorge Dam.

And what about the fish? There were more than 2.5 miles of rapids that begin behind the Gorge Powerhouse (seen above), making it hard for fish to swim upstream through the narrow and turbulent waters. Seattle City Light is doing extensive research to learn more about the best ways of protecting fish, including salmon, in the Skagit River. Their "Fish First Policy" requires they ensure that changing water levels don't hurt fish. Water flows are carefully managed year-round to help young salmon develop safely, even if it means less power is generated.

Okay, and back in the car, we passed through another tunnel on our way to the Diablo Lake Overlook.

Standing at the overlook, looking to the right, it looks like this:

Looking left, it looks like this:

Looking behind us, we could see several small glaciers in the mountains.

Heading back, we passed by Diablo Dam.

Also, we stopped on our way back to walk across a bridge that gave us a good view of the Gorge Waterfall. Looking down from the bridge, we could see some of the rapids.

The waterfall here was impressive.

Here's a short video:

Okay, well, if you've followed along this far, then you can call yourself a trooper. Our day took us about four hours from the time we left our RV to when we returned. We saw a lot of stuff, and only some of it was a part of our original plan. 

We're still mulling over what to do today. We'll do some more hiking, and I'll check back with you tomorrow on how what we end up doing. For now, Mike is making waffles. Breakfast is next. And after all that hiking, I'm hungry. How about you?