Before they left on the expedition they had made a pact to build a "colored fire" so the Seattle Press folks would know they were in the mountains. Jennie, the mule, was packed with 150 pounds of flour and 50 pounds of "colored fire" when she fell off a "a mere narrow ledge or shelf over a chasm 400 feet in depth." There was no way to save her. They were able to retrieve the flour but the "colored fire" stayed with Jennie in her final resting place. This was hard on the entire party.
Along the way, the other mule was having such a tough time, so they finally just turned her loose to fend for herself. According to my sister mules have intelligence and Dollie decided she had done enough. She wouldn't move and that's when they let her go. I can't help but think of her out in the wilderness and hope she made it.
Going was tough for the men, too. But they moved on daily. How did the party keep track of their journey?
Along the way they marked their trail with three ax cuts in trees, one above the other. The bottom cut was made at the snow level. These marks can still be seen today.
They named rivers, mountains and other markers as they traveled - there are maps to support their trek. Some names stuck and some didn't. They also photographed their travels. They came across what they thought was an old Indian village which they named Semple plateau after ex-governor Semple - today its existence as an Indian village is doubtful.
There are so many other interesting stories to tell, but I share only a bit for lack of space. Lots of tales could be written on how they got wild game to eat, how they survived when they were frozen below their skin with wet clothes, etc. If really interested, the book is the way to go (see references below).
In April they began their ascent of the mountains carrying 60 pounds each. They were accompanied by the sound of avalanches, but managed to escape the danger throughout the journey. They got to an area where they could see Bailey Range two miles north. From their viewpoint they experienced a tremendous avalance.
"It cut a swath through the timber hundreds of years in width, and poured - a dirty mass of snow, broken timber, rocks and earth - into the canyon below. It was all over in about the space of a minute, but to us who watched it seemed an hour." They were reverent of the mountain's power.
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