She Was One Slip From a Fatal Drop Until a Massive, Hairy Arm Reached From the Shadows Olympic National Park is a landscape of prehistoric scale. In the heart of Washington State, the moss grows so thick it swallows the sound of footsteps, and the trees rise like the pillars of a forgotten world. For Mary Walker, 35, a seasoned forestry worker, the park was her office. She was a woman of maps, permits, and hard science—a skeptic of legends and a believer in the tangible. But on a rain-slicked af