The Mountaineers' Winter Outing on Mt. Rainier. 83 



the famous points of interest of that region, was reached after 

 a climb of 2,000 feet within a distance of five miles. 



Tuesday, December 31st, one party spent a delightful day in 

 exploring the Ramparts, while a second party of six boldly 

 started for Paradise Valley. The day was not propitious. 

 Snow filled the air and a fierce wind beat against us, but we 

 all loved a storm and felt a stern, exhilarating joy in braving 

 the blast that was trying to keep us from gaining our Para- 

 dise. Heavily laden trees swayed and creaked dangerously, 

 small branches were torn by the wind, and fell all about us. 

 The icy wind stung our faces and obliterated the trail a mo- 

 ment after we had passed. The road to Paradise was a long 

 one, truly, but by one o'clock we had reached our goal and 

 stood spellbound in an unreal world. The rustic bridges were 

 barely visible above the white, the roof of a ger's cabin 

 showed above a drift. Paradise Valley is charming as a home 

 of mountain flowers and exquisite verdure, but as we saw it, 

 robed in a mantle of snow a score of feet in depth, it attained 

 a dignity and majesty that will make it stand alone in the 

 gallery of mountain memories. 



But dignity and majesty are not conducive to creature com- 

 fort and concluding that "that were paradise enow," we trav- 

 eled back to the inn. We watched the old year "pass over the 

 divide" with a grand vaudeville performance, a session of 

 limericks, music and dancing. At midnight we formed in a 

 circle and, joining hands, sang "Auld Lang Syne" with a will; 

 then, with shouts, welcomed the New Year as it came up the 

 trail. During our stay our mountain had been hidden in clouds ; 

 but New Year's morning we rose early to prepare for the jour- 

 ney home, and looking out of our windows, we saw it, a gleam- 

 ing mass in the dawn — an omen of good for the New Year. 



Newly fallen trees along our homeward route told of the 

 fury of the storm that had passed. Arrived in civilization, we 

 learned for the first time, from harrowing press reports, that 

 our whole company had been lost in the wilderness; heard of 

 our hairbreadth escapes from avalanches, and of suggested 

 search parties. But our radiant faces proved beyond a doubt 

 that we were living, breathing devotees at the shrine of Rainier, 

 not frozen offerings to the mountain that was God. 



