Coast Ranges
The Coast Ranges are the series of mountain ranges that stretch along west coast of North America from Alaska to Mexico. The character of the ranges varies considerably, from the record-setting tidewater glaciers in the ranges of Alaska, to the low but rugged and scrub[?]-covered hills of southern California, but the entire coast is consistent in dropping steeply into the sea, often resulting in photogenic views.There are a handful of coastal plains at the mouths of rivers that have punched through the mountains, most notably at the Fraser River, (Hoquiam?), Columbia River, and the Sacramento River, the last creating San Francisco Bay.
From the vicinity of San Francisco Bay north, it is common for humid air masses from the Gulf of Alaska[?] to make landfall in one of the Coast Ranges, resulting in heavy precipitation, both as rain and snow, especially on their western sides.
These are the members of the Coast Ranges, from north to south:
- Chugach Mountains, southern Alaska
- Wrangell Mountains[?], southern Alaska
- Saint Elias Mountains[?], southern Alaska, British Columbia
- Coast Mountains, British Columbia
- Olympic Mountains, Washington
- coastal mountains of Washington
- coastal mountains of Oregon
- coastal mountains of northern California
- Diablo Range[?], California
- San Gabriel Mountains[?], California
- Sierra Madre Occidental[?], Mexico
But you, Bear! sit here and whimper,
Like a wretched Shaugodaya,
Then again he raised his war-club,
In the middle of his forehead,
When one goes to fish in Winter.
He the Great Bear of the mountains,
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!"
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!
And hereafter and forever
Over all the winds of heaven.html">heaven.html">heaven.
Call him Kabeyun, the West-Wind!"
Father of the Winds of Heaven.
Gave the others to his children;
Gave the South to Shawondasee,
To the fierce Kabibonokka.
He it was who brought the morning,
Chased the dark o'er hill and valley;
With the brightest streaks of crimson.html">crimson,
Called the deer, and called the hunter.
Though the birds sang gayly to him,
Filled the air with odors for him;
Sang and shouted at his coming,
For he was alone in heaven.
While the village still was sleeping,
Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise,
All alone upon a meadow,
By a river in the meadow.
Still the first thing he beheld there
Two blue lakes among the rushes.
Who thus waited for his coming;
She on earth and he in heaven.
Wooed her with his smile of sunshine,
With his sighing and his singing,
Softest music, sweetest odors,
Folded in his robes of crimson,
Trembling still upon his bosom;
They are seen together walking,
Wabun and the Star of Morning.
Had his dwelling among icebergs,
In the kingdom of Wabasso,
He it was whose hand in Autumn
Stained the leaves with red and yellow;
Sifting, hissing through the forest,
Drove the loon and sea.html">sea-gull southward,
To their nests of sedge and sea-tang
.
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