Chasing the Phantom Falls: A Lost Expedition to the Cedar River
In 1885, two explorers ventured deep into the rugged wilderness above Cedar River to document the elusive, towering waterfalls known only to local legend.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Some years ago, an Indian of the Upper Yakima told me of the wondrous beauty of the 'Phantom Falls', the charming lake, and the awe-inspiring falls to be seen away up on Cedar River, a country over which the stick-s (a mythic creature) builds and wanders away. I became possessed of a dream to explore this region so little known to white men. Along with a friend who had become infected with the same desire, we took the early morning train for our nearest point on the railway, which is the basin of the plateau between Cedar and Green rivers, a couple of miles east of Wilderness Lake. Taking the old Indian trail, we wended our way to Cedar River, traveling up along the south bank for some miles. We climbed toward the falls, and in common with the ancient custom, carved our names on a cedar overlooking the abyss below, seeing only one name recorded before ours, that of Mr. Kellogg, who visited the falls in the summer of 1881. It is hard to estimate the height of the falls, but I should place their entire height at about 300 feet. But according to my old Indian friend, there are still grander falls above—to use his expression, 'slip kopt ilmia'—and so we tried to ascend the mountain side to discover the 'Phantom Falls.' We are struck by the absolute grandeur of the scene before us as we watch the water rush down headlong, cascade after cascade, and with one grand sweep it plunges into the deep basin below. It would be useless to attempt to describe the grand scene before us. To me, it seems quite natural that the superstitious Indian should point to this spot as the abode of the dreaded spirit of the woods.
“To me, it seems quite natural that the superstitious Indian should point to this spot as the abode of the dreaded spirit of the woods.”
This expedition took place in the dense, then-unmapped backcountry of the Cedar River Watershed, which today serves as Seattle's primary protected source of drinking water. While the 'Phantom Falls' remain part of the region's rugged topography, the area is now strictly closed to the public, preserving the same sense of inaccessible wilderness that drove these 1885 explorers.
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