Western Red Cedar to be specific. It is the native cedar along the Pacific Coast, until you get into Alaska where it tends to be replaced with some Yellow Cedar. Yellow cedar is a favorite of carvers. The name Incense Cedar is apt and the smell of the wood is wonderful. You can find it in Washington in the high country right on the edge of tree line.
I like Pacific Madrone a lot for their colors. (they aren’t so much a favorite if they are growing in my yard: they are quite messy all year round) But with a dusting of snow, the color really stands out.
The Lillian River trail is one of the most seldom hiked trails in the Olympic National Park. Starting about the 4 mile point on the Elwha River Trail, the route follows the Lillian River for several miles until it just peters in the brush along the bank. It was originally used for fishing and might be again some day, now that the dams have been removed from the Elwha River.
It was quite brushy … and I expect the route is increasingly difficult to find, given the light usage. The lower photo of the madrone is difficult to scale appropriately to show the size of this specimen. It was a beautiful tree. I would like to go back and visit to see how it has weathered the years.
These are old images from before the Elwha River dams were removed. The Elwha River is in the Olympic National Park and the two dams were blocking passage of salmon into some of the most pristine forest in the lower 48.
The top photo shows Jeff looking for remnants of the Press Party blazes left over from the 1890’s. We were unable to locate any on this trip, but later I found some of the distinctive markings cut into the side of old doug firs.
The lower image shows one of the side channels and using a stick to keep your feet dry. Currently, this whole area has been changed, since this was between the two dams and now subject to the whims of the river and its reworking of the stream bed and channels.
The miners in the White Mountains around the turn of the 20th Century cut down these bristlecones that were hundreds of years old … or more. They used them for mine timbers and to build cabins for the few months of the year they could live at 10,000 feet. A complete travesty. Thoughtless carnage in the pursuit of a hopeless dream. We can just be happy that there was no large seam of high quality ore. If that had happened, the bristlecones would likely have all been logged.