Legend has it Lake Crescent is haunted. In 1940, some fisherman found a mass floating in the water that ended up being a body. It was perfectly intact, preserved by the near freezing temps of this deep glacially carved lake. The woman’s dead flesh was described eerily as “Ivory Soap” caused by a chemical reaction between the minerals in the lake and the fats in her body.

The woman was identified as Hallie Latham Illingworth, a Kentucky native and waitress at the Lake Crescent Tavern. Three years earlier she had disappeared just before Christmas. She was married to a local man who was well known for his womanizing and who had regularly beat her. It is said that she showed up to work with black eyes and bruises on her neck and arms. Her husband was eventually arrested for her murder, which occurred after a particular fight got too violent and he ended up strangling her to death. Her body was weighed down by weights and thrown into the depths of the lake. She became known as The Lady of the Lake and is still said to haunt the lake that entombed her after her horrific death.

The reason this lake perfectly preserved Hallie’s body and has such frigid temperatures is because of its depth. It is the second deepest lake in Washington after Lake Chelan with a max measured depth of 624 feet, although some unofficial measurements boast depths of over 1000 feet. According to the local native people’s history, Mount Storm King, the mountain that looms over Lake Crescent, was formed because of a battle between two tribes, the Quileute and the Klallam. The Mountain Storm King became angry at the fighting and threw a big boulder at the men. The boulder blocked the river and formed Lake Crescent, killing all of the warriors. Geological history backs up this native story. There is evidence of a landslide occurring that would have been big enough to raise the level of an older smaller lake, into the lake it is today.

The Spruce Railroad Trail, ambling along the northern shore of the lake, is a great place to get to know this lake. The trail has its own history. It was built in 1918 to move highly sought after spruce trees to be used in airplane construction for World War I bi-planes. The war ended before the trees could be used for their intended purpose, but the line remained open for logging until it was abandoned in 1951.

The trail is flat with peek-a-boo views of the sapphire colored water of the lake. The highlights of the trail include a quaint wooden bridge over a crystal clear pool known as the punchbowl, a popular swimming and diving spot. There are also some remnants of former railroad tunnels and even one that has been restored that you can walk through. It is just long and curved enough to get very dark inside for a brief time. I walked through it alone without a headlamp and definitely felt out of my comfort zone in the pitch dark for a minute or two. But I held onto a handrail, scooted a little quicker, and survived to claim a small victory.

Another area to explore is the Storm King ranger station on the western side of the lake. The ranger station made a home of an old settler’s cabin that has been restored over the years. From here there is lake access and a dock, where on a crisp autumn morning, I sat alone for a long while watching fog form and cling to Mount Storm King and Pyramid Peak and disappear. Interestingly, Pyramid Peak once hosted a lookout built in 1942 that was used as a spotter station to spy any possible approaching Japanese aircraft during World War II.

There are a few trails that start from the rangers station, including one that heads south across the highway to Mount Storm King and Marymere Falls. The trail crosses Barnes Creek and Falls Creek in deep woods that makes you feel miles from the highway. I had a particularly magical moment watching a young deer on this section of trail that will stick with me for a long time.

After a short distance, the 90 foot high Marymere Falls ribbons down through rock and forest and flows down to a placid creek, punctuated by yellow and orange leaves in the fall. The lovely name was bestowed to the falls by Charles Barnes, a homesteader and member of the Press Expedition through the Olympic Mountains, in honor of his sister Mary Alice Barnes.