By John Kendall For Peninsula Daily News
EDITOR’S NOTE: Exactly 120 years ago this week, five men set out to cross the Olympic Mountains — and in doing so opened up the frontiers of the North Olympic Peninsula to America and the world.
But their five-month wintry trek was anything but a walk in the woods.
Port Angeles writer-researcher John Kendall continues a three-part series on the Press Expedition. The first installment, which appeared in the PDN on Wednesday, can be accessed on the peninsuladailynews.com home page.
Second of three parts
The Elwha River, with its many boulders, fallen trees and swift currents, was not as Port Angeles Mayor Norman Smith had promised.
The Press Expedition — five explorers attempting to cross the Olympic Mountains from north to south for the first time — was forced to drag the boat using a towline.
Members of the group often were in frigid water shepherding the boat up the river.
On Jan. 14, Charles Adams Barnes, the party’s topographer, wrote, “We have made today not more than a quarter of a mile. . . . The air registered 16 degrees.”
In addition to Barnes, the Press Expedition explorers were James H. Christie, the leader, John H. Crumback, John W. Sims and Christopher O. Hayes.
Boat abandoned
By Jan. 18, the group had advanced as far south as Indian Creek, near where U.S. Highway 101 now crosses the Elwha.
In 10 days, the boat was moved about only six miles, so it was abandoned on Jan. 23.
Then the group was snowbound for two weeks in a cabin at the most southern claim on the Elwha.
This gave the explorers a chance to build sleds that along with the two mules would carry their supplies.
But their varied types of sleds only bogged down in the snow softened by thaws and recent rains.
So they made 40 packs, each 50 pounds, which the men would carry in relay trips, first to a deserted cabin, then two miles farther to a deserted claim, and finally to “the little flat camp.”
The expedition would continue this back-and-forth relay of supplies for much of the trek.
The next goal was what settlers called Devil’s Backbone, a ridge. The two mules would now help carry the load.
One mule slipped, fell off a ridge and died. That loss meant a gain in supplies each man had to carry.
Terra incognita
On Feb. 27, at what is now the southern end of Lake Mills, the expedition entered terra incognita — where the settlers’ knowledge of the country ended.
Their first obstacle was what it called Goblins Gates, now called Goblins Gate.
Here the river makes a hard right, then cascades into a narrow opening.
When the group passed this obstacle, it came to a open ridge. Traveling an adjacent valley, the group encountered deer unafraid of humans, and teeming with fish.
Within a half hour, Christie caught 14 of what he called salmon trout.
On March 21, Crumback staked a squatters claim near the river.
There was also a strange sound a four-minute intervals.
The whirring sound surely must be unseen geysers, they thought, so it was named Geyser Valley.
There are no geysers there; the best explanation was that the source of the sound was the drumming of male ruffled grouses telling females that mating season has arrived.
The group followed a tributary of the Elwha, which it named the Lillian River.
During a scouting trip to higher elevation, a distant valley was spotted “from which four valleys or gaps appear to radiate like the spokes of a wagon wheel.”
This would be the next goal.
Some supplies were cached as the group headed up the Elwha.
“As they proceeded,” wrote author Robert L. Wood, whose books chronicled the Press Expedition, “the country became rougher, the snow deeper, and logs, snow and forest debris often lay so thick that they had a difficult time in forcing a passage.
“Eventually they found a level place to camp that night, but the snow was waist deep.”
It took two weeks to get to what the group named Press Valley. Members of the group returned to the Lillian River to get the cached supplies.
Scouting parties were showing more mountains with steep, snow-packed sides. Where was the big central valley that legends promised?
Game was becoming scarce and trips back and forth to get the cache were sapping time and energy.
So far the group had generally followed the Elwha, and its goal was to leave the interior southwesterly via the Quinault River.
How to leave the Elwha watershed for the Quinault watershed, where waters flow west, not north?
The group needed to find the divide — the high point that separated the watersheds.
Leaving the Elwha
On April 19, a scouting party spotted a gap that would take the expedition away from the Elwha for the first time.
Beyond the gap the party saw a range that appeared to be the backbone of the Olympic Mountains. It was named the Bailey Range, in honor of William Bailey, owner and publisher of the Seattle Press.
The mule, too exhausted to continue, was given its freedom.
The group now took stock of its food supplies: 150 pounds of flour, 25 pounds of beans, 60 pounds of smoked meat and about two pounds of tobacco.
On full rations, that would last the five men about 10 days.
Heading west along what it named the Goldie River, the group “unwittingly . . . chose to cross one of the most rugged parts of the Olympics,” wrote Wood, “an area that is without man-made trails today.”
The group left the Goldie River and climbed up the steep mountainside, with snow up to 15 feet deep. Each member carried a 75-pound pack.
While the other men went for the second load, Christie and Barnes climbed “above the timber belt” where they could “see over the divide ahead.”
For the first time, they saw the Quinault watershed — with a “sea of mountains” in front of it.
Having actually seen their goal, Christie and Barnes decided it was now “one pack to a man,” and no more relaying of supplies between camps.
They hoped to reach Lake Quinault and game country within 12 days.
Narrow ridge
The next day, the roar of avalanches was heard, then several days later, “upon reaching what they took to be the divide,” wrote Wood,” the men believed they would now have a downhill route the rest of way.
“They were standing upon a narrow ridge, obviously atop a watershed, but something was wrong. Far below, a valley and stream stretched across their line of travel.
“Realizing this was not the Quinault, the men speculated as to its identity, and fear crept into their minds that it might be the Elwha. This was shortly confirmed.”
So the group had trekked 20 miles over rough terrain just to reach a divide between the Elwha and Goldie rivers.
“Had they stayed with the Elwha,” wrote Wood, “they could have made the journey on snowshoes in two days. Such is the fate of explorers.”
The group climbed to the Elwha Valley floor in four hours.
FRIDAY: The group finally reaches the Quinault River and a helping hand.
