Glacier Creek Ridge Lookout

On August 12, 1935, panoramic images were taken at 26 feet on what looks like an unfinished lookout tower made of timbers. The lookout inventory matchs this saying that in 1936 a 40-foot tower was built with an L-4 cab.

In 1957 the lookout was abandoned.

Andy Holland relates a story in his book “Switchbacks”.
In 1942, Art Ryals had been sent to Glacier Ridge Lookout to relieve Jim Tucker, who had cut his hand severely while opening a tin can. Climbing the trail alone, carrying his pack and a Pulaski, Art met a grizzly as he was coming up a switchback at Mile 13, on August 13th. She was fifty or sixty feet away, eating huckleberries. Seeing no cubs, he yelled “Hay” as loudly as he could to frighten her off. Ursus looked up in his direction and sniffed the air. Suddenly she popped the ground, reared up, then slunk toward him like a cougar.

As Art reached for his Pulaski, he could hear the bear charge. Tossing his pack and Pulaski to the side of the trail, he made quick steps for a 14-inch diameter tree standing on a ledge nearby. Glancing backward as he ran, he saw her give his pack a swat, scattering the contents over the ground. Accelerating swiftly, she closed the intervening distance, and as Art was climbing the trunk she lunged upward, catching him in the back, raking his leg and slicing one boot with her claws. The momentum carried her over the bank, sliding on her haunches, but quickly she came back to maul his pack and storm furiously around the tree.

Then Ryals saw the two cubs, one brown and the other gray. When the offspring arrived on the scene, mother Ursus drove them down over the hill and returned to pace about the tree, occasionally rearing up on her hind legs. She stayed for more than an hour, then left, only to return again and again.

Art soon became aware the blood from his cuffed leg was running down into his boot, and when he wiggled his toes, he could feel his squishy socks. Pulling himself up more securely on the branch, he balanced his weight and removed his torn cruiser’s vest. Then, taking off his shirt, he wrapped it tightly around the gash and bent his knee to check the flow of blood. As time dragged on, the dull ache in his chest turned to torturous pain.

After a third round of inspection, the bear did not return, and eventually Art managed with difficulty to climb down the tree. Picking up the remnants of his pack, he was able to hobble three miles to Kennedy Guard Station, where he telephoned for help. Immediately, the packer was sent to the guard station to take him out on a horse for medical attention. In a weeks time, despite two cracked ribs and taped chest, Art was back on the job.