National Geographic : 1968 May
to Canada, by boat on Ross Lake. If one day you duplicate the trip, you will find it a com plicated business, but the reward of a day on the lovely trout-filled lake, with perhaps a short hike or two into the unpeopled wilder ness beyond either shore, is worth the trouble. You drive to Diablo Lake Resort. Either the resort boat or the City Light workboat will take you upstream to near the foot of 540-foot-high Ross Dam, which makes the Skagit River a deep waterway reaching a mile into Canadian territory. At the dam you will be met by Wayne Dameron's bus, which takes you to his blaz ingly fast motor catamaran, which speeds you to Wayne's Ross Lake Resort. This unusual place consists of offices, housekeeping cabins, and boat sheds built on huge rafts. Renting one of Wayne's small, fast out boards, I shoved off with a near-gale at my back. I made Canada in less than two hours, seeing not another soul the whole way. Had 662 I not been told that a log boom marked the border, I would never have known when I crossed it. I went on through the opening in the boom, lunched on Canadian soil, and started back. Now I had wind and sea over the bow, and it was a wild, exhilarating passage. Visitor Sips as Camper Sleeps Although made prisoner and forced to do man's work, the Skagit is anything but a tame river. Powerful hidden currents struggle ceaselessly in the depths, and when they sur face above rocky shallows, they form whirl pools that toss a small boat about like a chip. Soon soaked, I landed several times to build warming fires in sheltered coves. See ing smoke rising from the Forest Service campground at the mouth of Little Beaver Creek, I went ashore in hopes of finding a wilderness wanderer with a coffeepot bub bling on the fire.