Return to Grouse Creek

Before talking about Grouse Creek, I must talk about Snoqualmie Tunnel, Annie and geocaching. She has posted pictures on her blog at (www.nnlove.blogspot.com) of her Saturday geocaching adventure with Groundspeak colleagues. Annie said the cache, located inside the Snoqualmie Tunnel, is one of the most popular, attracting geocachers from all over the world. I haven't yet heard how the adventure went, but from looking at the photos, they must have found the cache.

Bill and I had time for a short outing yesterday, the first in quite some time. He had to be back to town by 4 for a concert at the Presbyterian Church, and since he returned from Sunday worship at about 12:30, our drive had to be abbreviated. One of those weird moments resulting from many years of marriage occurred just before I suggested we go for a short drive.

I haven't been to Grouse Creek for at least a couple of years, I thought to myself. Then, I made my suggestion and asked where we'd be going. "Grouse Creek," he said. No argument there. In ten minutes, Bill, Kiwi and I were on our way.

Grouse Creek has always been one of my favorite destinations---well, most of the time. The day the mother moose decided to charge our Dodge Caravan as we drove through the big open meadow near the falls kinda kept me away from there for a while.

I remember being so scared as the kids (little at the time) sat in the back seat that I almost drove clear to Elmira to avoid turning around and coming back through that meadow. I knew Mama moose was laying in wait for me. We came down the hill from the north, sped up on the level and raced back through the area. No moose to be seen anywhere.

Other than that fateful day, Grouse Creek has provided pleasant memories for me. I got to know the area really well while working for the Forest Service engineers as a survey aide. My first assignment ever was to accompany Vern Eskridge, Dick Creed and Dave Lee on a nine-mile survey job of the lower road.

That was about 1969, when Sis Ballenger and I were the first "girls" to work in the field for the Kaniksu National Forest. When they featured us in an article, they called it "Hard Hats and Curls." That was also when we named Dick Creed "Huckleberry" cuz during every lunch break he spent his time on the hunt for berry bushes.

We worked that job, crawling up and down hillsides every 50 feet with our abne levels, for at least a couple of weeks, and the experience served as my epiphany that there sure was a lot of country back there in them there hills. That realization sprouted a love for back roads on any mountain anywhere, but Grouse Creek always remained special because it was the first of many roads to conquer.

Grouse Creek was also one of the first places I took Bill when he moved to Idaho permanently in 1974. I still have a few black and white photos of our winter wanderings in areas where Bill was blown away by the size of the cedar stumps that had been logged out of the area during the Humbird Lumber Co. days.

Years ago, I was fortunate to go on an overnight trail ride with the Gold n'Grouse 4-H Club where we went from the McNall place into Boulder Meadows, climbing our way back out through snow so deep we had to get off the horses, send them up the hill, hold on to their tails, and follow behind. Definitely an experience I'll never forget.

Also, years ago, approximately the late '70s-early '80s, I loved to go off on side roads up there for cross country skiing, sometimes with my dog Sarah and on other occasions with my friend Ann or my yearbook students. On one of those skiing ventures, I was terribly disturbed to see where someone had chased and possibly shot either a moose or an elk on their snowmobile. The tracks and the blood on the snow were telltale, but fortunately, I never saw the final result.


Yesterday's drive was pretty tame. We drove to the end of the road, and I commented that it seemed strange not to see Gary Beauchene's turquoise horse trailer parked in the opening where the trail into Boulder Creek takes off from the road. We also drove the South Fork of Grouse Creek where Bill showed me a subdivision of sorts.

The road ends at Caldwell's house where Dr. Caldwell, a substitute veterinarian, has a professional cremation service for animals. Bill says they had all the rock hauled in (at least a mile's worth) and her husband maintains the road all winter so his wife can make her veterinarian calls and pick up deceased animals for cremation. Their home at the far edge of a big meadow is pretty enough to make such a drive and so many sacrifices worth the trip.

As we turned around at Caldwell's, Bill looked at his watch and said he'd better be heading back. Soon after that, we came to another roadside parking area, and, sure enough, there was Gary Beauchene's turquoise stock trailer. He and the Paddleford's (Bob with the white handlebar mustache and Sue with her leather duster) were getting ready to load up horses and mules after a ride up to Wiley Knob.

I have a feeling Gary and the PaDelford's know more square inches of Grouse Creek country than I ever did during that nine miles of surveying. Bob showed me his wooden stirrup and pointed to the place where his boot has worn down the wood from so many miles in the saddle.

Grouse Creek has changed a lot the nearly four decades that I've visited its forests, trails and roads, but it still holds that alluring charm that impressed me so many years ago when I was so young and so green behind the ears when it came to Idaho back roads. The experience of working there changed all that, and I know I'll always enjoy every upcoming return to Grouse Creek.

Oh, by the way, we did see a cow moose yesterday. I did attempt to take her picture as she simply turned in the road and stared back at us. Only problem---the moose didn't charge but the camera batteries needed to.