The tourist has now become more or less familiar with the natural
features and resources of that great country lying between the Snake
river and the Pacific Ocean, and between the Columbia river and the
Siskiyou Mountains.
There remains only Western Washington, with its extensive forests, its
rich coal mines, its hop gardens, and its far-famed inland sea, on which
he is to embark on his voyage to the great land of the far North. The
Pacific division of the Northern Pacific Railroad follows the Willamette
river from Portland to its confluence with the Columbia, and the latter
river from that point to Kalama, where trains are conveyed across the
river by the finest transfer boat in the world, built expressly for the
railroad company, and constructed to carry thirty cars at one time. From
Kalama the track strikes almost directly northward for Puget Sound,
passing through long stretches of dense forest, but also intersecting a
tract of country containing a larger area of fertile agricultural land
than is contained in any other county in Western Washington.
The chief towns of this region are Chehalis and Centralia, and they give
evidence of thrift and prosperity. But the attention of the tourist as
he travels onward is largely occupied with the magnificent peaks of the
Cascade Range, whose forms of dazzling whiteness constitute, with their
background of deepest blue and the dark forests which clothe their base,
a picture of marvelous beauty. For more than one hundred miles after we
leave Portland, there looms up behind us the graceful contour of Mount
Hood, while to the east are seen at intervals the majestic forms of
Mount St. Helens and Mount Adams.
But the grandest scene of all is yet to come. After leaving Tenino,
there is a revelation of almost unequaled grandeur in the view of Mount
Tacoma, the loftiest peak of the entire range. If Mount Hood can claim
to be considered, as is generally admitted, the most graceful and
beautiful mountain on the Pacific coast, Mount Tacoma can certainly
claim to be the most majestic and sublime. Towering 14,444 feet above
sea-level, and thus exceeding by more than 3,000 feet the height of any
other mountain in Washington or Oregon, it seems to rear its massive
head close to the very battlements of heaven. No other mountain, even in
the Yellowstone National Park or in the main range of the Rockies, will
have produced so great an impression upon the traveler as will the
mighty Tacoma. As he gazes at its majestic form, he is inclined to doubt
whether there is in the whole world one that could establish a better
claim to universal sovereignty. In lines that will live as long as the
English language itself, Byron declared Mont Blanc the monarch of
mountains. But Byron never saw the matchless Tacoma. It, too, has its
throne of rocks, its diadem of snow, and, though less frequently than
Mont Blanc, its robe of clouds, an adjunct of doubtful advantage except
in the exigencies of versification.
[Illustration: "THE TACOMA" TACOMA. W. T.]
Mount Tacoma has, embedded in its mighty bosom, no fewer than fifteen
glaciers, three of which have been rendered accessible to visitors.
Comparing them with the glaciers of the Alps, Senator Edmunds, of
Vermont, declares that the finest effects he witnessed during the course
of a long tour in Switzerland, fell far short of what he saw on his
visit to Mount Tacoma. At the great hotel, at Tacoma City, guides and
camping outfits are always obtainable. Excursion parties are frequently
made up during the summer season, the trip being entirely free from
difficulty or danger, even to ladies.
It is at the city of Tacoma that the tourist first looks over the blue
waters of Puget Sound. This is the western terminus of the Northern
Pacific Railroad. Occupying a commanding position upon a high plateau
overlooking Admiralty Inlet, Tacoma has an excellent harbor, capable of
receiving the largest ocean-going vessels. It has also some fine public
buildings, among them being the Anna Wright Seminary for girls, a
monument of the beneficence of Mr. C. B. Wright, of Philadelphia. Its
luxuriously furnished hotel, the Tacoma, erected at a cost of $200,000,
occupies one of the finest sites in the world, overlooking, as it does,
the picturesque shores of the bay, and commanding a magnificent view of
the imperial mountain.
A few miles northward is Seattle, also with an excellent harbor, and the
promise of becoming a city of great importance, an extensive section of
rich country being naturally tributary to it.
There is no more delightful climate than that of Puget Sound. The
summers are cool, the maximum temperature at Tacoma in the summer of
1884 being eighty-nine degrees, and in that of 1885, eighty-five degrees
only.
The Cascade division of the railroad, extending eastward from Tacoma, is
developing a very rich bituminous coal country, and great quantities of
the mineral are being shipped from Tacoma, where immense bunkers have
been erected to facilitate its exportation. This line also reaches the
fine hop growing country of the Puyallup valley, whose product has
steadily risen in Eastern markets, until now it commands as high a price
as that of the State of New York.
But never was the tourist less disposed than now to concern himself with
agricultural or commercial statistics. With eager expectation, impatient
of delay, he is hastening toward that veritable Wonderland of the World
that constitutes the Mecca of his pilgrimage. He is about to enter upon
the final stage of his long journey, in that far-famed Inland Passage,
whose incomparable scenery, extending in one unbroken chain for more
than a thousand miles, alone surpasses those stupendous works of Nature
upon which he has so recently gazed.