MOUNT RAINIER REFLECTED IN MIRROR LAKE
"Owning no mightier but the King of kings"
Copyright by Curtis & Miller
One day, late in summer, I was sitting upon a commanding promontory nearly 7,000 feet in altitude, entranced by a panoramic view most wonderful to behold. The sky was clear, the sun's warm rays were unobstructed, and the air I breathed pure as the nectar of heaven. Only five hours before I had left the city of Tacoma and a little earlier Seattle—two great cities throbbing with the activities of nearly a half million people engaged in manufacturing and mercantile pursuits.
Just beyond the foothills visible towards the west were the green valleys in which these metropolitan centers lay—the nearest only forty miles distant by an air line, close to the waters of Puget Sound. Yet here, almost in sight of them, I was enjoying a quietude known only to the haunts of nature. More than seven thousand feet above me towered the majestic dome of the second highest pinnacle in the United States, reserving observation to the north until its summit should be reached, while far toward the east and the south extended range upon range of mountain peaks, like an army of giants gathered around their chief. Here and there among them appeared the sub-chiefs, Adams and St. Helens in Washington; and Hood, Jefferson, and the Three Sisters, far beyond, in Oregon. Between their serrated ranks darker shadows marked the deep canyons where grows some of the choicest timber in the state.
Near by crawled the huge glacial bodies gnawing their way down the mountain side and splitting its surface into rugged ridges. Between them and below were spread the meadowed alpine parks or abandoned cirques—veritable fairylands—which had been carved out by these superhuman agencies eons before. Barely distinguishable was the road by which I had made the circuitous ascent, bending back and forth across the face of an apparently perpendicular wall, while the glacial streams glittering in the sunshine, resembled huge serpents lying in the profound hollows formed by the extending hills.
The hours spent in reaching this favored point were of themselves worth the effort. Either rail or automobile may be chosen to Ashford where each train is met by an auto stage. Leaving Tacoma, the highway threads a picturesque gravelly prairie for thirty miles, ascends the beautiful canyon road, crosses the Ohop Valley, leads to the brink of the Nisqually Canyon a thousand feet deep, plunges through dense virgin forests, reaches Longmire, and zigzags to the snout of the Nisqually Glacier, whence the ascent to the Camp of the Clouds may be continued afoot, on horseback, or by horse stage.
This region was only recently set aside as a National Park. Perhaps no other area in the world brings so many and such varied natural wonders to the very doors of two great cities. It contains a total of 207,360 acres, or 324 square miles, of which 100 square miles is occupied by Mount Rainier (or Mt. Tacoma), king of mountains, rising apparently directly from sea level, and visible from almost every point in the state.