The Hollow Whistle of Iron Horses Part II
...continuation....Heading half a block further west, Compass Outdoor Adventures rents bikes and offers a shuttle to Snoqualmie Tunnel from a second storey retail space. A steep ramp behind an overhead garage door leads up to the office/store where you're greeted by one of their friendly staff. A yearling company, they offer corporate packages for team building, as well as children's summer camps, bike rentals and the shuttle. Driving from North Bend to Snoqualmie tunnel, the 20-minute drive through the pass affords visitors the opportunity to view parts of the trail from an alternative perspective.
Reaching the parking lot, snow lays in quickly melting mounds on the mountainside, and in the runoff ditches near the tunnel entrance, having been plowed away from the immense doors only two days prior.
Dropped off, there is only one way back to town, and that's through the spooky tunnel that evokes imaginings of the worst kind, and over trestles to challenge any fear of heights. Alone, pedalling slowly through puddles of water from still melting snow, a sudden blast of frigid air displaces the humid heat, chilling bones and raising hair on arms and back of neck. There is nothing but the mountain around you, and the curve in the path before you. Where are those icy fingers of air coming from?
Rounding the corner, massive wooden doors stand open to blackness so thick, it seems to seep out of Snoqualmie Tunnel. Despite the heat of the day, the tunnel, 2.3 miles of blackness so dense it swallows photons, the only light visible is the exit, a tiny pinpoint in the distance. Like a beast lurking 457 M (1500 feet) under the surface of the lower slopes of Mt Catherine in the Cascade Mountains, it funnels warm air into its belly from the west, exhaling it's raw breath in frigid gusts to the east.
Like a runaway train, imaginations careen wildly as the tunnel blindfolds its inhabitants in sightless dark. Auditory senses acutely magnify drips from rounded ceilings and your own breathing, (that was yours, right?) echoing with tires crunching on packed dirt and gravel. One can almost hear the shouts of the men in the 3,624 M
(11,890-foot) length, the longest in the railroad's system in 1908. Detonating 340 tons of dynamite, blowing it up 100 rounds at a time, approximately 2,500 “tunnel stiffs" removed 180,000 cubic yards of rock, finally completing it in August 1914. Built to by-pass avalanche prone areas in Snoqualmie Pass, the first train entered the tunnel in January 1915, keeping Seattle and the Midwest connected.
Donning a jacket against the chilly dampness, a 505 LED lumens attached to the right front fork of a bicycle barely pierces the deep caverns. Pinpricks of light and reverberating footsteps are the only indication of other tunnel inhabitants, impossible to gauge how far away or near until almost toe to toe. Alone, the tunnel has an eery silence, initiating a faster pace through its creepy sightlessness.
Nearing the west end of the tunnel, still immersed in inky darkness, sounds of ceiling drips are masked by the roar of rushing water, seemingly overhead. Emerging into light and warmth, you get a definite sense of the weight of mountain you've been cycling under and exactly how much earth is overhead. To your right, a stream crashes its way over rocks and deadfall, carving a steep path to the distant valley below.
Heavily laden grey clouds swirl around towering evergreens, veiling surrounding mountain peaks. The Iron Horse trail, a gradual 2.2% grade, winds its way through thick forests, disappearing into the distance. Ribbons of silvery streams reflect the cloudy conditions, peeking through far-off valleys, hundreds of feet below. Hues of near-by summits fade from forest green to paler shades of blue on the horizon.
...continued....