Ice Caves
We drove up Highway 5, off the 5, to Granite Falls, beyond Granite Falls, a ways along the Mountain Loop Highway until we came to the Ice Cave trailhead. We walked above the wetlands created by mountain runoff. We walked over moist meadows. We walked through hilly forests. We walked along trails that were running with water. We crossed a rivulet, where I fell into the mud. We crossed a stream, where I kept my balance. We crossed a field of stones and came to the base of a mountain. There was a waterfall down the mountain, and that waterfall landed on a pile of ice. The ice was constantly melting out from underneath, and the water moving along hollowed out crevasses and caves. At the trailhead, there had been signs warning of the dangers of entering the ice caves, so I stuck close to the entrance. Each cave was a hemicylinder of perhaps 6m radius, stretching far back through the ice. Water dripped from above. The sides of the cave looked as if someone had made them with a giant ice cream scoop, then allowed surface ice to melt and re-freeze. They were a sort of random honeycomb of shallow rounded concavities, each perhaps a half meter in diameter. I said "they" couldn't have done a better job of making this cave if they'd worked with real fiberglass. A nearby tourist heard me and watched me with a worried expression .
There were many signs that warned us not to approach the caves due to danger of falling ice. I did not heed them. (Photos: Paul Du Bois)
![[Photo: aiyee!]](../clip_image002.jpg)
When the ice hit me, it was something of a shock. It was more of a shock when I heard Paul telling me to stay there so he could take photos. (Hey, mom--I'm kidding. We posed these shots. Really.)
![[pretty picture of ice waterfall]](../clip_image006.jpg)
The waterfall [at|,] the origin of the cave.(Photo: Paul Du Bois)
The caves were very dark, and thus I wasn't so happy when Tom Lester told me that he'd wandered to the back of them and seen something beautiful. He suggested that everyone walk back. So I went stumbling into the cold, dark, dripping ice cave. The floor of the cave was covered with large, loose rocks which had been dislodged from the mountain above. The footing was treacherous and invisible. I walked slowly, supporting myself with arms against big rocks were possible, placing feet with care. I finally emerged out into dim light. There was a hole in the ceiling. I was at the base of the mountain, and there was a waterfall coming down from above, simultaneously drilling a hole in the ice and providing water for more ice. The sun filtered through the hole in the ice, providing soft light through the cold mist.
Water glistened on dimly lit stone. Oh my gracious. It was very nice indeed. A small cluster of tourists, mostly my companions, stood huddled silently, listening to the drips of the cave and the quiet rush of the waterfall above. Finally, I picked my way out. Finally, we returned to the car.
On the way back to civilization, we stopped off at the Granite Falls fish ladder. There weren't any fish going through the fish ladder, but I suspect that the Granite Falls fish ladder is next to Granite Falls. At least, it was certainly next to a very scenic waterfall in a beautiful gorge with sheer rocky sides topped with trees. A manmade fish ladder meandered up the hill next to the falls. In itself, it wasn't interesting, but it got us out of the car. What if the sign hadn't said anything about a fish ladder? What if it had just announced the presence of a waterfall? Would we have ventured out?
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