we would lose 1000 ft. of elevation pretty quickly, as we descended down to Thunder Creek, then, we would have to clamber up 3,000 ft to get to our final destination at Thunder Basin. About 4 miles in, just past Skagit Queen camp, as we begin our long trudge up, we pass one of the most peculiar things I’ve seen yet out in the middle of the wilderness…Huge, heavy, mining equipment abandoned long ago, on the side of the trail! Looked like an old steam engine or something, that must have weighed over a ton!!
We marveled at the ruggedness of the individuals that must have had to bring that in, as well as stay here and work. The trail in many places switched back and forth across the large 12” diameter steel pipe that ran straight up the side of the hill, until it too disappeared from sight…Not familiar with mining, I could not determine how the operation must have worked.
Finally, the forest started to give way to open sightings of the mountains that would surround our camp for the night, and they were spectacular! However, as the trees gave way, we encountered the brush, and short, tangled Ash that was 8 to 10 feet tall…This part of the trail needed some serious brush cutting!
Stinging nettles! By the time we got to camp, my legs were buzzing, as if someone had hooked me up to a wall outlet…If only a flame thrower weren’t so heavy…
For the next hour and a half, we would slog through knee to shoulder high brush, in bear country! Made me as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, let me tell you…And, also hidden in the brush? Stinging nettles! By the time we got to camp, my legs were buzzing, as if someone had hooked me up to a wall outlet…If only a flame thrower weren’t so heavy…
Creek crossing! Just to make sure that things were kept lively, the trail decided to make a quick left, across Thunder Creek, so, it was time to peel off the boots, and put on our sandals, as the water was over our knees. Greg went first, and threw his boots across the stream, then followed after them. When it was my turn, I walked up to the edge of the creek, stood on the bank, prepared to toss my boots, then promptly dropped one right into the drink!
“Yeah, I know what you wanted to say…That those gunboat shoes of mine SHOULD float!!”
I was instantly filled with horror, as my boot listed to the side, filled with several inches of water, then righted itself, as if preparing for launch…As fast as I could, I dropped to my knees, and grabbed the quickly fleeing boot. That’s where I got the second of my “souvenirs”, as I scraped all the hide off of my left knee…Of course, Greg chirped from across the stream, “ Hey, at least the boot floated good!” As I looked up, scowling at my misfortune for having done something so brilliant in front of a witness, I replied, “Yeah, I know what you wanted to say…That those gunboat shoes of mine SHOULD float!!” As you can guess, laughter ensued from here…
Once across the stream, I figured I might as well continue the hike in my sandals, since the boot was already soaked…Finally, with the weather looking as if it might change for the worst, we arrived at our campsite in Thunder Basin, Tucked between the crags of Buckner Mt. to our South, and the Eastern ridgeline of Mt. Logan.
It’s a beautiful alpine area right at tree line, a narrow bowl with gradually diminishing alpine firs as the small valley tapers before making the final ascent up over Park Creek Pass, a narrow cleft that dives down between the ridgelines of each Mountain, as if cleaved with a giant axe. Small Thunder Glacier clings to the flanks of Mt. Buckner, stubbornly refusing to let go of its small foothold. It, too, lives up to its namesake, as a large car sized chunk released its hold the following morning, and the sound of it crashing down the mountain reverberates across the small valley.
…I would get even with him at night, though, filling the dark with my own refrain…
We had just set up camp, taken a few pictures of the area, and watched the clouds descend on us from the mountain tops, and start dumping their cargo with gusto. So, for the rest of the day, and evening, we remained in the tent, listening to the rain beat against our shelter…It must have been a lullaby for Greg, who, before long, was snoring in time with the steady drumming of the rain…
Funny thing was, though, that his hearing must have remained razor sharp, for he awakened at the exact moment the rain took a break, and said, “It’s quiet!” To which, I noted, “Do you think???” with just a slight hint of sarcasm…
First time it had been “quiet” in over 30 minutes…I would get even with him at night, though, filling the dark with my own refrain…Don’t misplace those earplugs, Greg!
Hello, Rufus, thanks for letting me know. I am sorry for that, but for some reason, all of the comments that I’m now getting are from borvestinkral.com, so I feel bad about that. I will ask my web developer what I can do about that for you, and again, I am very sorry. If I can get this fixed for you, I will send you a reply to your gmail acct. Again, I apologize for this.