Lester Ghost Town

October 22, 2016


I love fall. I enjoy watching the leaves change colors and float to the ground. I love the change in lighting as we rotate away from the sun. I'm a kid at heart, so love splashing in the puddles and jumping on leaves. I love the chill in the air, foggy mornings and the aroma of baking that begins with fall. I love autumn not only because of these reasons, but because, frankly, I love the fun of Halloween. It seemed only natural for me to hold out a trip to the ghost town of Lester until October.

Historical photo (c.1984) showing Guard's house & Warehouse

A little history on the town of Lester. It started out a logging camp back in the 1800's. When Northern Pacific Railroad laid tracks over Stampede Pass, the little community tucked away in the woods was the perfect location to re-supply their steam locomotives. They would fill up with water from the nearby river and coal before the long haul up the pass. Eventually a depot went in, as well as a roundhouse, coal dock... and, in 1892, the town of Lester was born. With the transition to diesel locomotives the town began dying. In 1962 the City of Tacoma began buying property in an effort to protect its Green River Watershed. In 1984 the Stampede Pass line was mothballed - the final nail in Lester's coffin. Tacoma purchased the majority of the remaining property, leaving just one resident in town. Gertrude had been the school teacher and truly loved Lester. She continued to live there until her home burned down in 1993, but Lester was her true home and she revisited often until her death in 2002, at the age of 99.


There are a few buildings still standing in Lester, and they were our destination for the day. It had rained all week, but the day dawned bright - a good day to visit Lester and perhaps encounter Gertrude's spirit. The Poplar trees were a vibrant yellow, in stark contrast to their evergreen neighbors and the blue of the autumn sky. We bumped and swerved our way 13 miles down a twisty forest road, enjoying the changing view with each turn, until we arrived at the gate that signified the end of the road - and the beginning of the trail.




The 'trail' follows an old roadbed to the town. It is still utilized by the City of Tacoma and Burlington Northern Railroad, so is wide and well maintained. It was a nice change from the rough trails I've traversed this past year. The Green River quietly wandered alongside us for a portion of the way, lending itself to the beauty of the landscape. We were able to let the dogs off-leash, and they enjoyed the freedom to romp and sniff. Buster and Cupcake were last minute additions to the trip and they enthusiastically ran up ahead, each making the adventure their own.

After a nice leisurely 3.5 mile walk, we arrived at the town of Lester ... or rather, what little remains. The only structures still standing are the guard's house, one other home and a shed. The old warehouse has caved in under the weight of winter snows and time, and isn't rapidly being reduced to a pile of lumber. We adventured around, looking for foundations of other structures, relics and artifacts. The two houses are still surprisingly structurally sound, so the grandkids and I poked around inside them. Buster was really hoping to encounter a ghost or two, but wasn't disappointed at not finding any. Entering the homes was like stepping through a portal back in time. The kids stayed close as instructed and touched nothing but investigated everything. I explained what things where and how life was lived 'back in the day'. They hung on every word, asked questions and soaked it all up like sponges.


Looking out at the hillside from the guard house





What remains of the Warehouse

 

Mist rising from the Ruins (warehouse)

Awesome Sofa Frame on Porch



My little ghost busters

Autumn sun rising over old residence

From the buildings we wandered out into the woods, which are edging ever closer to swallowing up all evidence of the town. Buster went off a wee bit on his own, searching for ghosts or zombies, always staying within line-of-sight (Nana has trained him well). Cupcake and I shook trees to make them rain on each other, climbed over logs and generally just enjoyed each other's company. While out there we came across two old washers, one with the wringer apparatus still attached. There were parts to a car or two strewn about, and a smaller wood cooking stove. However, beyond these nifty relics, we found no further testimony to the residents who once lived here.

Old Quarter Panel covered in Leaves

Washing Machine Wringer

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We started walking back out of the woods as a train came rolling to a stop in front of the guards house. It lent an eerie feel to our adventure as we thought back to the life that once bustled here, centered around the arrival of the trains. We watched as the train resumed its journey and pulled away, then crossed the tracks to explore the meadow. I had hoped to find some building foundations, but what we found totally made Buster's day. There, hidden in the tall grass, was the skeletal remains of an elk.

It came time for us to think about our return trip home. We walked down the tracks until we came to a cement culvert over a stream. We sat here, dangling our legs over the edge and had lunch while admiring the awesome colors that blanketed the surrounding hills. Buster announced that autumn was his favorite time of year. I think I would have to agree with him.

While we sat, we talked about our day's adventure. We discussed plans for future outings, including a return to Lester for another day of exploration. I love autumn days, and this one will go down as one of my favorites.

Hike 49 of 52.
Distance: 7.5 miles
Elevation gained: 300'
Highest Elevation Achieved: 1640' 

Tunnel Creek

October 8, 2016
Tunnel Creek trail has long been on my bucket list of trails to hike - I just didn't think it would be this year. We originally headed out to explore a different trail that would connect us with one we had hiked earlier in the year. However, after spending 45 minutes driving all over the forest on service roads following crappy directions, (even Siri got lost) I threw in the towel and headed for the well-signed Tunnel Creek trailhead. The WTA (Washington Trails Association) had a trail maintenance crew out there, so I figured we'd be okay, since we had no trail map, no trail description, and no clue what we'd find once we stepped onto the trail. My hiking partners today were Bill, Maddy and her boyfriend Aram, and Zillah.


Tunnel Creek is 8 miles in length and has two trailheads, one at the north end of the trail and a considerably more difficult one at the south end of the trail. It is located outside Quilcene, in the northeast corner of the Olympics. It was named Tunnel Creek due to the habit the creek has of disappearing during the dry season. Since I hadn't researched or prepared for this hike, I wasn't entirely sure which trailhead the signs were directing us to. I sighed with relief when we arrived and learned that we were at the north end. We stopped at the trail info board, determined our destination, signed in and headed on our adventure.

Foggy morning on the trail

The Tunnel Creek Trail starts out moderately uphill, then steepens to about a 20% grade. It was lightly raining as we hiked through low-lying clouds. The golden hue of the changing maples brightened an otherwise grey day. Our steps were quieted by the soft tread of a trail covered in needles, wet leaves and small hemlock cones. There were a couple trees down across the trail that we navigated without difficulty. They looked recent, as there wasn't evidence of much foot-traffic detouring around. The air was crisp and smelled of loam; I breathed in as deeply as my ribs would allow and slowly exhaled. Autumn was officially upon us and I was in heaven.

As we climbed, I found myself laboring up the trail. Again. Instead of growing frustrated and getting discouraged, I reminded myself that I am still healing. Recovery was going to be slow and I just had to let my body take its time. Zillah was content to trot up and down the trail, keeping all members of our group within her sight. We were maintaining a good, steady pace and, before we knew it, we had reached our 2.5 mile mark. It was at this point that we pulled off the trail to sit on the bank of Tunnel Creek and have a bite to eat. Here the creek cascaded over boulders on its way downhill on its way to meet up with, I believe, the Quilcene River. The forest was quiet, with no sound beyond that of the tumbling waters and our own conversation. I don't think we could have found a prettier spot in all the woods.

Tunnel Creek

After a quick lunch, we headed back towards the trailhead. It had been our intention when we started out to make this day a short day, with 5-6 miles as our goal. On our way down the trail, we encountered the WTA work crew, who were busying themselves with the task of removing the downed trees. We are very fortunate in this state to have some great volunteer organizations who build and maintain our many trails. We greeted them and thanked them for their hard work, the results of which were obvious. When once again we arrived at the trailhead, we signed ourselves back off the trail and peeled off our wet gear.

I look forward to returning to this trail to hike in its entirety next year. I learned that, roughly 1/4 mile from where we stopped, a surviving shelter still stands. The Olympic shelters hold a special spot in my heart, so I am already planning my visit. As advised by my doctors, I will keep my hikes on the shorter/easier side as I continue to mend from my fall. Fortunately, autumn is the perfect time of year for lighter hikes...

Hike 48 of 52.
Distance: 5 miles
Elevation gain: 1500'
Highest point: 3620'

Slab Camp Creek / Upper Gray Wolf River

September 18, 2016


I love hiking in the Buckhorn Wilderness. Located in the northeast corner of the Olympic peninsula, it has a lot to offer hikers of all abilities. I never grow tired of exploring the trails there. The Gray Wolf River trail was once 18 miles in distance, until a flood in the 1990's washed out the bridge that spanned a high, narrow canyon. The trail has subsequently been cut in half and the upper portion has almost faded into obscurity. The Lower Gray Wolf River trail is moderately hiked, and absolutely gorgeous. I, myself, have hiked to its abrupt end twice. I have stood on the canyon wall nearby the previous location of the bridge footings, gazing across and trying to pick up the trail on the other side with my eyes.

I'm still mending a cracked rib from a recent fall so wanted to hike a trail that would push me a little but not too much. The Slab Camp Creek trail fit the bill perfectly. It was also a good opportunity for my co-worker Alyson to hit the trail with me, and to provide Zillah with a much needed romp. Hiking partner Evie and her granddog, Jax, joined us as well. With a glorious sunrise drive north along the Hood Canal and a weather forecast in our favor, it was shaping up to be a fantastic day. I can't think of a more glorious way to while away the time than walking through the forest with friends.  



Dense forest surrounded the trail

If you are seeking solitude, then this is the trail for you. In fact, you may be the only people in the forest, as were we. The only other car at the trailhead was out on another trail with the same terminus. Once we located our trail, we set off on our adventure. The trail quietly and steadily marches you downhill into a beautiful and deeply forested canyon. The forest here was so dense that I'm sure it coined the phrase "You can't see the forest for all the trees". The understory was thick with salal, devils club and ferns. A thick carpet of moss covered the forest floor. The air smelled of nourishing peat and bore the wet, mossy perfume of a forest preparing itself for winter. I couldn't help but stop and draw a deep breath. I could almost feel my blood pressure lower a few points as I exhaled. Peace.

 

Alyson travels down into the canyon

Once on the canyon floor, we crossed a few streams then regained a bit of our elevation. As we came to a junction, we turned left onto a trail less travelled while the main trail headed west towards Deer Park, which lay beyond the National Park boundary. We were now on the upper  portion of the Gray Wolf River trail, which hugged the wall and carried us back down into the canyon. Here the Gray Wolf River thunders through a narrow gorge, carving into the canyon wall with the force of its waters. Zillah stayed right at my heel as we worked our way down the trail. We pushed through brush where it grew over the trail. We had to navigate a washout and uprooted tree. In places the trail was so scant it was nothing more than a boot path. The river below us filled the forest with its modest voice. Later in the year, when the water level has risen, his voice will be more resounding.


Once on the canyon floor we witnessed the river's force and determined resistance. Where the canyon had closed in, constricting the river into an anorexic channel, it had undercut the canyon wall and carved itself a massive overhang. The colors of the river were amazing, ranging from dark grey to turquoise. We wandered along, not far from its banks, for a short while before the trail started to climb again, towards its terminus - the location of the former bridge. The end of the line for us, however, was a landslide that took a sizeable portion of trail with it. I looked up and across, my eyes scanning for the trail on the other side. Once I picked it out, I was satisfied as my quest had been fulfilled.

Our trip back to the trailhead was serenely quiet and peaceful. A storm was brewing; not only could we feel it, but the birds could as well. They were all tucked away under cover in their nests. A brave chipmunk scampered across the trail and up a tree, enticing the dogs to a quick game of chase. Both were quickly called off the 'hunt' and obediently returned to our sides. Evie's hamstring injury flared up with about 2 miles left to go until we reached the trailhead. An occasional drop of rain hit our heads, which motivated us to continue on. I have to commend Evie on her ability to hike through the pain and maintain her pace up the trail.

The skies continued to darken, so we quickly loaded the dogs and packs into the car in an effort to beat the impending storm. Just as we engaged the transmission to 'Drive', the skies let loose. The rain that fell came down in buckets - enough so that we had to stop the car because the wipers couldn't keep up. Seemingly out of nowhere, a half dozen deer appeared in front of us, racing into the dense tree cover we had just left. The squall passed quickly enough and we proceeded down the road, which was now channeled with streamlets of ground water. We praised our good fortune and the many blessings of the day as we returned to civilization. I feel doubly blessed that I am able to experience these adventures with such wonderful friends and Zillah at my side.



Ever-vigilant Zillah

Hike 47:52

Distance: 7 miles

Elevation gain: 1100'

Highest point: 2540'