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Trail head and Scenic Day Hike Trails
Interpretive Signs at Points of Interest
Barrier Free Trail
Non-motorized Boat Access
Campground Facilities
Cradled in a deep, tree-lined mountain gorge at the toe of the Salmo-Priest Wilderness, Mill Pond's timeless, calm surface belies the upheaval of its recent origins.
In 1904 Lewis P. Larson, a Danish immigrant discovered a mountain of limestone near the Pend Oreille River that held out promise of cement production on a grand scale. But the lower Pend Oreille River at that time had no supporting infrastructure--no roads, railroads, or electrical facilities--and scarcely any people. Ione at that time had less than 50 inhabitant; Metaline perhaps 20. And Metaline Falls had yet to be created from a forested flat occupied by a lone, bachelor miner.
Larsen's conception of development on the lower Pend Oreille River was anything but piecemeal. He envisioned a huge cement plant powered from the waters of Sullivan Creek, serviced by a new railroad extending down river from Newport and supported by an entire town that would become known as Metaline Falls. And he envisioned it happening all at once!
The first step in this grand scheme was the construction of the Mill Pond Flume.
In early 1910 hundreds of workers poured into the remote area of Sullivan Creel. Their objective: construct a log dam to create a new reservoir (Mill Pond), and build a wooden aqueduct, or flume, to divert a steady stream of water from Mill Pond to a new hydroelectric plant just outside of the future town site of Metaline Falls.
Throughout 1910 the work camp built at the west tip of Mill Pond became a wilderness community, complete with bunkhouses, cook shack, black-smith shop, stables and a sawmill. The men felled cedar trees from groves along Sullivan Creek, drove timbers in the flume's path and sawed boards for the flume-box. They built the flume with hand tools, horses and steam-powered machinery.
By the time the flume was completed, in April 1911, the new cement plant had been erected, and the streets and building of Metaline Falls had sprung up in the shadow of the giant industry. When the water was released into the flume, workers cheered as the cement plant sprang into life.
Citizens marveled at the spectacle of electric lights sparkling in the streets of their new hometown.
Aeneas MacDougall, the first flume tender, inspected the flume daily. He moved his family into their new home above Mill Pond in 1910. To make ends meet, the MacDougalls also gardened, fished, raised chickens, and kept a milk cow. They cut ice from Mill Pond in winter and rented out row boats and a log cabin during the summer.
As long as the flume ran water, Metaline Falls prospered. But the flume proved to be a maintenance nightmare. Slumps and landslides repeatedly undermined it.
Workers spent hundreds of hours jamming oakum (oil-treated rope) into cracks between the boards and shoveling sand through trapdoors to plug leaks from inside. Everyday wear and tear upon the flume was immense. In 1920, and again by 1937, the wooden flume had to be rebuilt -- replaced each time by a slightly smaller structure. Townsfolk also appreciated the flume as a boardwalk. Picnickers, fishermen, photographers, and Sunday loungers all strolled the flume to Mill Pond and Sullivan Lake because it provided a shorter and more scenic route than the Sullivan Lake Road.
During the Depression a Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camp was built at Sullivan Lake. The young Corpsmen often hiked the flume into Metaline Falls. One of their companions was a tame elk called "Minnie the Moocher". Minnie walked the flume with them, then waited and "mooched" food from the townsfolk until her friends were ready to return to the lake.
By 1956 the days of Mill Pond's third flume were numbered. In April spring runoff undermined a long segment of its supporting timbers. The sagging flume groaned, then burst open and sent a torrent of water rushing down into Sullivan Creel. The flume was never repaired, for by this time modern power sources (such as the Box Canyon Dam) provided cheaper, more reliable power.
It was the end of an area for those remaining pioneers who were now in their seventies and eighties. It was the end of an era in which peoples lives were often wrought with hardships but also graced with a deep satisfaction -- a satisfaction found only by those fortunate enough to build a dream.
Mill Pond Historic Site is a storybook replica of the past. Captured along its pathways is the early history of Metaline Falls ~ the history of early Washington settlers who harnessed power from a nearby creek to build one of the most unique hydroelectric power systems of that time. Thanks to the outstanding efforts of many people who have worked with the Forest Service, the Mill Pond Historic Site now offers visitors a chance to experience remnants of a bygone time.
| Point A: |
Trailhead parking for 520 and 550 |
| Point B: |
Trailhead parking for 560 with spur to campground |
| Point C: |
Elk Creek Falls |
| Point D: |
Mill Pond Campground |
| Point E: |
Trail dead ends at Sullivan Creek (no bridge crossing) |
| Point F: |
Trail Junction 520/550 |
The Colville National Forest and
Sullivan Lake Ranger District
invite You To
"Open the Windows on the Past"
at the
Mill Pond Historic Site
Trailhead & Scenic Day Hike Trails
Interpretive Signs at Points of Interest
Barrier-Free Trail
Boat Access
Mill Pond
Five Miles East
Of Metaline Falls, WA
Along County Road # 9345
1. Cradled in a deep, tree-lined mountain gorge at the toe of the Salmo-Priest Wilderness lies an illusive pond, which by its very nature, has escaped the definitions of time.
The pond was not part of Mother earth's master plan. It wasn't deposited with the natural kettle lakes of eastern Washington when the Cordilleran ice sheet retreated. Its stillness was never churned by gushing waters from steep-wall canyon tributaries to the Pend Oreille River. Its waters were never traveled or fished by Kalispel Indians during the quiet history before the first white man arrived in 1809.
The pond was born in 1910, when a Danish immigrant named Lewis P. Larsen dammed Sullivan Creek, creating a reservoir that would eventually flow into a wooden spillway (or flume) and supply power to his cement plant located at the mouth of the Creek on the Pend Oreille River. The pond was named Mill Pond.
"It occurred to Lewis that if the waters of Sullivan Creek were harnessed, then electric power in abundance could be generated, the cement properties could be developed and in the way a tonnage of freight produced that would offer and inducement to the railroad to extend their lines into Metaline Country." -- Metaline Falls News, April 7, 1011
2. Damming the Creek proved to be one of Larsen's less ambitious tasks.
Construction of his flume, however, was such a big endeavor it led to the transformation of a forested cabin site near the cement plant into a busy little community -- Metaline Falls.
Hundreds of laborers came to work on the flume, which when completed, would span the four-mile distance between Mill Pond and a new community powerhouse.
Laborers began work by constructing a road the length of the flume. Equipment and supplies were carried by steamboat on the Pend Oreille River from Newport to Ione where cargo was loaded onto rafts for the last treacherous miles through Box Canyon to Metaline Falls.
By 1910, construction operations were in full swing. Men and horses trudged daily from their work on the flume, powerhouse and cement plant to a work camp which, only a year before, was carved out of the wilderness.
Listen .. can you hear it? The methodic ringing of the smithy's hammer over the noisy bustling camp and the ceaseless whining of logs against steel. In the distance, you just make out the steady, dull hammering of the steam pile-driver as it sinks another timber into the ground ahead of the flume's path.
3. That year , the work camp swelled with activity. The camp was a small community itself with bunkhouses, a cookshack, blacksmith shop, stables and a small sawmill.
Flume workers struggled across steep, rocky slopes - alive with springs and seepages - to construct the eight-foot-wide flume. A solid plank surface was placed on top of the flume to be used as a natural boardwalk for carriages, wagons and pedestrians.
The men toiled, felling cedar trees from groves along Sullivan Creek, sawing boards and sinking timbers in the flume's path. They hewed the flume using only hand tools and simple machinery.
Finally, the water came down ... its power harnessed to provide electricity for Metaline Falls. Workers cheered. Lights sparkled through windows of a lavish hotel in the distant community.
At last, the unique hydroelectric power system was in place. Even though the system was far superior to others in the Pacific Northwest at that time, it was not without problems.
4. Keeping water running through the flume proved to be a maintenance nightmare. Ground slumps and landslides continually threatened to crush the structure. The flume's wooden hull popped with leaks at each weather change.
Aeneas MacDougall, the first flume tender, was hired to inspect the flume every day. He and other workers spent hundreds of hours jamming oakum (oil-treated rope) into cracks between boards or shoveling sand through trapdoors to plug the leaks from the inside.
MacDougall patrolled the flume on snowshoes in the winter looking for leaks and potential land slides. He used a .405 rifle - he called it his "elephant gun" - to shoot icicles from the structure. His daughter Martha, recalls her father coming home in the evening with a bruised shoulder caused by the gun's recoil.
Once, while plowing snow off the top of the tall flume, the horse plow and MacDougall slid over the side. The horse landed on a stump and died. MacDougall survived only because he landed on the horse.
5. Flume maintenance in the early days kept people employed. Workers moved their families to Metaline Falls, which by 1915 was thriving. Picnickers, fishermen, photographers and Sunday stroller began using the flume boardwalk to visit Sullivan Lake because the route was flatter, more scenic and a mile shorter than the Sullivan Lake Road. In 1020, a large section of the flume was replaced.
Throughout the next two decades, maintenance workers kept vigil over the flume's rotting timers. They also kept a lookout for forest fires, landslides and floods. A wildfire that burned nearby Hall Mountain in 1926 threatened to destroy the flume.
The boardwalk was used in the 1930's by Civilian Conservation Corpsmen to hike to Metaline Falls from a CCC camp at Sullivan Lake. After severe damage from a flood in 1936, the entire flume was rebuilt.
During the 1930's, a Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camp was built at Sullivan Lake. The CCC crews, mostly young men, walked the flume into Metaline Falls on weekends. One of their companions was a tame elk called "Minnie the Moocher". Minnie hiked the flume with them into town then waited and "mooched" food from townsfolk until her friends were ready to return to the Lake.
6. In 1956, the flume finally met its match. The aging flume collapsed under the burden of spring runoff as some of its supporting timbers were washed away. The flume groaned, burst open and sent a torrent of water rushing down into Sullivan Creek. The flume was never repaired, for by this time modern power sources (such as Box Canyon Dam) provided cheaper, more abundant power.
It was the end of an era. An area filled with glorious stories about pioneers taming a remote river valley to improve their lives. An era in which peoples' lives were often wrought with hardships but also graced with a deep satisfaction ... a satisfaction found only by those fortunate enough to build a dream!
Aeneas MacDougall, the first flume tender, moved his family into their new home above Mill Pond in 1910. to make ends meet, the MacDougalls gardened, fished, raised chickens and kept a milk cow. They cut ice from Mill Pond in the winter and rented out row boats and a log cabin during the summer.
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