Burke: Rainier’s Paradise lives up to its name on first visit

By Tom Burke / Herald columnist

I finally made it to Paradise and didn’t need The Rapture. All it took was the National Park Service’s “America the Beautiful” senior pass.

Yep, we finally made it to Mount Rainier, and I don’t know why I waited so long to make the pilgrimage.

The day was perfect: Temperatures in the mid-80s, the air sparkling, and the crowd small (it was a Monday).

We’d gone down to White Pass to offer a Hooray! for my son, daughter-in-law, and 9- and 12 year-old grandkiddies’ completion of a 75-mile backpack trek from Mount Adams to White Pass via the Pacific Crest Trail, which my daughter-in-law hiked with her dad when she was 15.

They came out of the woods, went directly for a swim, then we cooked up dinner. Next morning we set out for Paradise after hot cakes and Vermont maple syrup.

The ride to the lodge was impressive, both for the views afforded by the road hacked out of the mountainside and ecological diversity of the mile-high trip up from old-growth forest to Alpine Meadows. (And the wildflowers, apparently delayed because of this year’s late snowmelt, were amazing.)

What was equally impressive was the Park Service’s built-many-years-ago infrastructure. (Note: The historic economic/sociologic/political heat and pressure created by the Park Service and their private-sector partners, going back to the early 1900s, was as explosive as the lava today fulminating under Rainier’s 25 glaciers. It’s a complicated story, so suffice to say that while there aren’t any current mountain-top fireworks on Rainier, there were plenty years ago in Seattle and Tacoma as the area was transformed from wilderness to a National Park.)

While the Visitor’s Center is mostly closed there was plenty of staff to direct folks to where they wanted to go; plenty of maps to get ‘em there; and the mountain’s awesomeness to justify the effort. Rainier looks impressive from a distance; up close it is simply humbling.

And lest we forget who really “owns” the park, a stakeholder paid us a visit as we lunched at one the 1930s Civilian Conservation Corps-built picnic groves.

Driving into the area, we spied a 5-year-oldish, 150-pound black bear ambling amongst the tables, looking for lunch.

Now it was clear this was a low-key, no-drama bear, just doin’ what bears do; we saw she was heading toward a table full of tuna sandwiches and a couple of unsuspecting pic-i-nic-ers. So we gave the park rangers a call and stopped to tell the diners they were being joined by an Ursus americanus altifrontalis (Olympic black bear) and they might want to relocate.

They dawdled, so my son, an experienced woodsman, stood up on a table as the bear approached to shouting distance, and yelled, “Scoot, bear!” She did. When we spoke with the rangers, equipped with their weapon of choice, an air-horn, we were told her modus operandi was to get close, but not too close, to a picnic table; surprise/frighten the diners; and then scarf down the food they didn’t have time to pack as they fled.

The ranger added the bear had been born in the park, relocated 50 miles away (it only took her five days to return) and was a “sweetheart.” We agreed, she was cute; and clever.

But the behavior of some we encountered was just the opposite; like getting ready to toss her ham ‘n cheese tidbits instead of ceding ground. It reminded me of our last trip to Yellowstone where we saw idiot tourists getting real, real, real close to a mama elk and her baby (trying to snap an elk-selfie) and the fools who got out of their car to “pet” the bison. (And every year you can read of idiots being trampled by an elk or fools gored by a buffalo.)

Over the past few years there have been dire reports of substantial cuts in Park Service budgets and a $12 billion dollar maintenance deficit. I am relieved to report that on Aug. 4, the Congressionally-passed Great American Outdoors Act was signed dedicating $1.9 billion a year for five years to provide needed maintenance in our national parks.

So we’ll be going back to Paradise, but its 1,000 inches of winter snow (that’s 83 feet!), means it won’t be till the spring.

Keeping my promises from Aug. 17 column: I received only three “explanations” for Trump’s coronavirus testing logic. One from a regular MAGA emailer, it was his usual, deeply-considered intimate invitation, another wasn’t quite a supporter but wondered about per capita Covid-19 incidence versus a straight count of cases. (I double checked and our per capita incidence and death count: both are pretty bad compared to other countries); and a third seriously claiming Trump was just “joking.” (Right!) Nearly 1,000 people a day are still dying. Remember that when Trump touts his “success” dealing with the pandemic.

Tom Burke’s email address is t.burke.column@gmail.com.