bands or moraines along the margins 
and near the middle of the glacier; 
at lower altitudes all these bands unite 
to form a continuous mantle. 
NEQUALITIES in the glacier’s bed 
toss the surface of the ice into hum- 
mocks, precisely as a rapid river tum- 
bling over a rough and rocky bed, and 
the presence of large, massive boulders 
protects the ice beneath them from 
melting, thus aiding in the formation 
of pinnacles which project above the 
common level. Travel over such a sur- 
face is laborious in the extreme and 
by no means lacking in danger. Nearly 
everything is loose and_ unstable. 
Boulders weighing tons roll away from 
underfoot at a touch, calling for great 
agility and good judgment. Detours 
are many and progress is disheart- 
ingly slow and fatiguing, particularly 
so when loaded down like a beast of 
burden! Much depends upon the abil- 
ity to pick out the best route, and 
ample time should be allowed for a 
good survey ahead at each vantage 
point. The route across the lower gla- 
cier lies in general close to its eastern 
border, and the objective is a steep, 
wooded slope about a mile and a half 
above the terminus of the glacier. An 
old trail to Moraine Park strikes the 
ice at this point, and its position is 
readily marked by a creek flowing 
down through a gap in the mountain 
wall. It is possible to camp at this 
point if the glacier has been unusually 
difficult, but it is preferable to push 
on to Moraine Park about three miles 
above, if possible. 
Moraine Park is divided roughly into 
two main sections by a low spur of the 
Sluiskin Mountains cutting across it 
from east to west. To the north of 
this ridge the park forms a long and 
narrow valley between the Sluiskins 
and the glacier, but to the south it 
opens into a wide amphitheatre slop- 
ing downward to the northeast and 
east to the foot of the Winthrop Gla- 
cier. The trail from the lower moraine 
of the Carbon traverses the northern 
section of the park, crosses the low 
spur of the Sluiskins, descends steeply 
to a beautiful little lake, then wanders 
through a' patch of woods to the edge 
of the Winthrop where it disappears 
forever in a wilderness of storm- 
tossed ice. 
O need to mourn its loss, however, 
in these lovely uplands where one 
may wander over grassy, flower-strewn 
slopes under Maxfield Parrish skies. 
Here Nature delights in extremes of 
contrast—red, purple, and blue flow- 
ers; trees and grass of the deepest, 
purest green; the dazzling white of ice 
and snow. 

Carbon Glacier and Lower Moraine Park. 
An ideal spot for a base camp is a 
flat meadow near the edge of the Car- 
bon Glacier on the northern side of 
the low spur. Streams of water flow 
down from the snowfields above and 
splendid firewood can be obtained any- 
where from dead Alaska cedars. A 
fringe of stunted, wind-blown alpine 
firs along the edge of the glacier 
affords good shelter from the winds. 
The view of Rainier is the most won- 
derful feature, however, indescribably 
glorious, perhaps the finest and most 
impressive to be had from any portion 
of the National 
Park. Five thou- ‘ 
savagery. Such scenes should more 
properly be enjoyed only by those who 
are willing to pay Nature’s price, and 
it will always be a matter of deep re- 
gret to the old-timers when permanent 
traces of Man’s handiwork mar the 
pristine beauty of this region. 
BASE camp in Moraine Park 
offers many interesting side trips 
of not more than a day’s duration. 
One interesting climb, in particular, 
leads to a height of about 11,000 feet 
on the Carbon Ridge. Insofar as I 
sand feet above, the ee es 
ice waves of the 
Carbon break 
against the precipi- 
tous walls of an 
enormous horse- 
shoe amphitheatre 
or cirque, 3,600 feet 
high, the birthplace 
of the glacier. The 
great hollow catches 
the low-hanging 
clouds of winter 
and condenses their 
moisture into snow, 
thus concentrating 
in a very limited 
area a heavy snow- 
fall which turns 
into ice under ac- 
cumulated pressure. 
In the rays of the 
setting sun the 
cirque reflects a 
warm and colorful 
radiance which soft- 
ens its majestic out- 
lines and masks its 
true grimness and 
—< 

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The majesty of Rainier as seen from Spray Park. 
469 
