We drove through the fog to get there. Our biggest book club group yet (!) met at the trailhead of the Iron Goat Trail near Stevens Pass. It was a chilly October morning and we were bundled in our wooly hats and puffy coats. Before we hit the trail I pointed out that we were standing at the location of the old town of Scenic. There was once a hotel there in the early 1900’s and a hot spring. And it was a crucial location for the recovery effort of the terribly tragedy that happened on the Great Northern Railway, just three miles from where we stood.

In February 1910, a formidable blizzard tore through Stevens Pass and ravaged the railway. Slides blocked the tracks in several places along the steep-walled corridor that had been exposed in a recent wildfire. Two trains, one full of passengers and the other full of mail and crew, were trapped on both sides by slides. The trains were moved next to each other on opposing tracks near the Wellington station. With the whole area prone to slides, the train’s location was considered the safest place for them. The snowplow crews tirelessly worked to clear the tracks as the snow continued to pile up and every time they cleared a slide, another would occur.

The passengers and crew, concerned about their safety and health, were trapped on the trains for five days. A few of them decided to walk out to the town of Scenic and subsequently wired a message to report their horrific walk through the blizzard conditions and recommended that the rest of the group stay put and wait for help. But help didn’t come, and as conditions seemed to mildly improve, they made a decision to evacuate as many as they could the following day. That night, the snow turned to rain and the lightning flashed in the sky. There was a deafening CRACK and a slab of snow released from the heights of Windy Mountain tumbled down onto the trains. The train cars toppled down the steep slope, some disintegrating on impact and others perfectly intact. The unharmed survivors pulled others from the snow and rushed them down to Scenic. Many were rescued but still nearly 100 died in the accident in what is still the deadliest avalanche in American history.

All that remained in the ravine afterward, strewn among rocks and ravaged trees, were a few twisted metal pipes, a ruptured firebox door, a woman’s torn, high-buttoned shoe.

From the trailhead at Scenic, our group climbed 700 feet up steep switchbacks to get to the now defunct railway. I reminded the group that the survivors and rescuers had to get down this steep embankment and in the snow, a seemingly impossible and terrifying task. We reached the railroad grade and explored the ghosts of the railway’s era. We first discovered a large, dark tunnel. A trail led inside to an interpretive sign and a warning of “extreme danger” if one was to continue through the tunnel. We returned the way we came and continued on the trail as it skirted the outside of the tunnel.

A massive concrete wall, probably 30 feet high, follows the trail. Rusty rebar pokes out in places, water spills over the edges, and roots meander their way through the structure, buckling and crumbling, as nature reclaims its rightful place. Towering yellow alders sprouted from the top of the wall and shined brightly against the blue sky in protest of the man-made feat of engineering. We passed the remnants of a wooden snowshed that once protected the tracks. The decaying wood was flattened into waves as it followed the curvature of the embankment that reclaimed it.

Finally, as we neared the old townsite of Wellington (renamed Tye after the disaster), we entered the main attraction of the trail, a towering concrete snowshed built in response to the avalanche disaster of 1910. The structure is mostly intact with the exception of one end that is falling down. Concrete clings to falling rebar in what we all decided could be an art installation displayed in any modern art museum. We followed a short boardwalk to interpretive signs explaining what happened here over 100 years ago. We ate lunch there and discussed our thoughts about the month’s book choice, The White Cascade, a historical recount of the events leading up to the avalanche and the aftermath.

Many in our group grew up in Washington and I was surprised to learn that they had never heard of the deadly avalanche at Wellington before we read the book. Without the efforts of many volunteers over the years who worked hard to conserve this historical area and its trails, we may have lost this story all together. Stories like this bring us closer to understanding what our ancestors and predecessors endured in the harsh land of the west. It also reminds us that nature is a formidable force and that sometimes it is better to just leave it wild.

 

For no matter what the railway propagandists might say to the contrary, there were indeed places in the country too wild to be tamed by the technology of the railroad – and Stevens Pass might be one of them.

 

The White Cascade by Gary Krist

 

Book Ends

---

• Download a comprehensive guidebook to the Iron Goat Trail
• If you want to discover more trails with compelling history, check out Hiking Washington’s History