Autumn at 2800 feet...

The last time we came to Monte Cristo, you could drive right to the townsite. But six years later, a series of winter storms and high water took out the main road bridge over the Stilliguamish River, and the forest service decided not to rebuild the road.

Today it's a four mile hike to get to the townsite, through towering trees on a mostly flat trail that ambles along the river. And that river crossing is now a scary tightrope walk across a massive log. The butt end of the log was easily 5 feet in diameter, and an easy walk. But then it got narrow, and when it fell it broke into a few sections, and I really didn't think I'd make it across the broken parts. But I did, thankfully.

All day we walked and explored along the river, surrounded by brilliant color, and with the snowline just a few hundred feet above us. It was a constant reminder that we're on the brink of tumbling into winter.

We stopped frequently on the hike to the old mining town, as there are many geocaches along this trail. But finally we reached the old logging road and climbed up the last mile to the townsite, and crossed the bridge over the river.

A couple of the old town signs have survived.

The first sign that you've reached the ghost town is this small red frame building, which once housed the electrical equipment that powered the town. It's been restored by a team of volunteers, and now sits on a new foundation. Can you see the curved path at the bottom of the photograph? This is the pathway carved by the original turntable for the railroad. The turntable still exists, and is so well balanced you can move it by hand.

Many buildings still exist, mostly cabins and bungalows used by miners during the town's boom period in the late 1890s. The first wide valley holds several intact structures, but most of the residents lived up a narrow trail to another plateau, where the streets are still visible.



Up the river are the remains of the ore concentrator, once a five-story structure, now a towering pile of huge timbers.

We took time for a late lunch and a last look around, then started the hike back to the trailhead. The clouds were clearing, and the snow was disappearing from the high ridges.

As we walked, several groups of hikers passed us, on the way up to the ghost town. With sunset just a couple of hours away, I hope they know what they're doing.

When we got back to the river, I was dreading that scary walk across the fallen log. So I looked for an alternate, and spotted a man-made "path" of rocks across one of the braided channels of the river. That looked much better to me. The water was low, the rocks were dry, and I got plenty of balance help from my trekking poles. From the island in the middle of the river, it was easy to climb up onto the widest part of the log, and make the rest of the crossing.

We got back to the Pilot just as the light was fading. Perfect timing, and a very good day.