Autumn Wow

Day 345: A sure sign of Autumn's incursion, the vine maples are beginning to redden, and one of the best local displays is guaranteed to catch the eye of any hiker on the Park's Westside Road. At the base of Mount Wow's rugged slopes between Dry Creek and Fish Creek, the talus fields are covered with this native shrub. If you're thinking you'd say "Wow!" if you were standing here looking almost straight up, you'd be right in doing so, but wrong if you thought that was how the 5921' peak got its name. As the story goes, "wow" is a transliteration of a word from an indigenous language meaning "mountain goat," and indeed, the goats can often be seen precariously perched on the narrow ledges above the road. But there's one old goat who never made the summit of the massif, and probably never will. That's not to say I didn't make the attempt a few times, but never found a route which was not obstructed by dense vegetation or insurmountable cliffs. Still, were you standing here beside me, you might hear me say, "Wow!" I might be referring to the scarps above, or it might just mean I've spotted a sure-footed goat who has boldly gone where no Crow has gone before.

October Wow

Day 358: Wow! "Mount Wow," that is. The name was derived from a native-language word meaning "mountain goat," and applies to a massif on the western boundary of the Park which is prime goat habitat. Foreshortened here by my proximity to the trees, Mount Wow rises abruptly to 5921' from the Westside Road and has been the source of many damaging rockfalls. The constant scouring of its slopes by rock and avalanche keeps vegetation at a minimum with the exception of dense groves of pioneering vine maple (Acer circinatum). If Mount Wow's towering face wasn't enough to make you say "Wow!" then the maples in a "red year" such as this certainly would.

"Red years" only occur when certain climatological criteria are met, and what those criteria are remains a mystery to me. Prolonged dryness is one factor, but by itself, it is not enough to trigger a red year. Sometimes after a summer drought, I have seen these trees go from sickly yellow directly to dead brown. On other occasions, they transition through a feeble pink without ever achieving their full red potential. Nor is it cyclic, although glorious, full-blown red years occur roughly one in five. This year, the slopes of Mount Wow are aflame with maple fire, a delight for the eyes even in the absence of goats.

Watch For Rolling Rock

Day 24: "So how was your day, dear?" Rain or not, I couldn't resist having a little fun with one of the rocks which came tumbling down the side of Mt. Wow last spring. Of course, I could have picked a drier day for the shoot and if I'd had spare clothes, I would have changed out of my fresh uniform, but sometimes you simply have to seize the moment of inspiration when it comes to you. Photographers are often required to make sacrifices for their art, and thus it was that I drove home with a wet behind and a muddy back for having laid in the puddle of runoff which had accumulated under my weighty subject. "Under" was the easy part; "out" was a bit of a challenge, and I might have been ahead if I'd followed my hat and gone straight through.

Rockfall

Day 357: During the merry month of May, Mount Wow decided it was time to shed part of its geologic skin, and cast several sizeable chunks of rock onto the hikers' parking area near Dry Creek (Westside Road, Mount Rainier National Park). No one was around to witness the event, but it was not without effect. A visitor's truck was parked in the line of fall, and was totalled when it was struck. The road was closed as soon as the rockfall was discovered, and a team of geologists was sent in to assess the potential for reoccurrence. It was determined that the rocks had been loosened by the natural cycle of freezing and thawing; in other words, Mount Wow was simply eroding as mountains are wont to do.

I hadn't had a chance to get up the Westside Road this year, and because I'm feeling a bit poorly, I didn't hike beyond Ground Zero. I just wanted to see the damage before the road crew makes little rocks out of big ones with some well-placed dynamite. The rock I'm leaning on was by no means the largest. Note that it has barely dented the road. The one on the righthand side of the photo left an impact crater more than three feet deep!