Big Four Ice Caves

After being unable to reach the trailhead for Ashland Lakes due to snow on the road, and lacking time for a longer hike, we decided to take the short hike to Big Four Ice Caves as a consolation.
On the way to the parking area, we came across a black bear (although his fur was more reddish brown) heading down to the Stillaguamish River, probably looking to do some fishing. This was about halfway between marten Creek and Deer creek, and judging by his appearence the fishing must be good, because he looked plump and healthy, none of that "skinny, just woke up from a long winters nap, having a bad den hair day" look about him. Seems Mr. Ursis is up and about early this year.
There was a couple inches of slushy snow in the Big Four parking lot, and the walk to the ice caves was a bit like walking in sand, feet slipping back a little with each step until I stopped and put on some YakTrax.
As soon as you cross the wetlands you'll first smell and then see lots of skunk cabbage blooms, like the bear a sure sign of spring, even if the trail looks more winterish than it has since last year. The snow increases a bit as you gain 200' in elevation, with maybe 5 inches on the ground at trails end.
The cave itself is fairly large and well formed now, but please stay out. You can see some large blocks of ice that have recently fallen from the roof, thankfully while no one was under them. There were quite a few small avalanches while we were there, perhaps one every 2 to 3 minutes, beautiful little white "waterfalls" of snow, noisy but (usually) harmless. "Don't like the weather? Just wait 15 minutes...". We had sunshine, rain and a few feeble snowflakes, occasionally all at the same time. Tomorrow promises to be more eventful, lots of wind and snow, but alas I have to help a friend move Friday. Too bad. I love stormy weather!
Speaking of storms, check out the forest edge by the caves, where trees in an an area of almost 100 square yards have been sheared off 10 to 15 feet above ground and lay like a giant set of pick up sticks, victims not of an avalanche but of a devastating microburst of wind.