(fllounfaw $)arR0 anb Campsites 



childlike aspens mingle with the willow and the 

 alder or the handsome silver spruce. Some slopes 

 are spread with the green fleece of massed young 

 lodge-pole pines, and here and there are groves 

 of Douglas spruce, far from their better home 

 "where rolls the Oregon." The splendid and 

 spiry Engelmann spruces climb the stern slopes 

 eleven thousand feet above the ocean, where weird 

 timber-line with its dwarfed and distorted trees 

 shows the incessant line of battle between the 

 woods and the weather. 



Every season nearly one thousand varieties of 

 beautiful wild flowers come to perfume the air 

 and open their "bannered bosoms to the sun." 

 Many of these are of brightest color. They crowd 

 the streams, wave on the hills, shine in the wood- 

 land vistas, and color the snow-edge. Daisies, 

 orchids, tiger lilies, fringed gentians, wild red 

 roses, mariposas, Rocky Mountain columbines, 

 harebells, and forget-me-nots adorn every space 

 and nook. 



While only a few birds stay in the park the 

 year round, there are scores of summer visitors 

 who come here to bring up the babies, and to 



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