Muddy Fork Debris Flow at 20 Years

20 years later, it’s hard to imagine the massive debris flow that roared down the verdant Muddy Fork valley in 2002…

Earlier this year I posted a “then-and-now” look at the changes to the Cooper Spur area on Mount Hood’s east flank over the past 20 years, including dramatic changes to the Eliot Glacier. This article provides a similar look at forces of nature that have once again reshaped the Muddy Fork canyon, on Mount Hood’s steep western flank. 

The story begins in the winter of 2002-03 with a massive debris flow triggered by a landslide in the upper Muddy Fork canyon. The event occurred sometime during the winter season, when deep snow-covered hiking trails, and thus went unnoticed until the snowpack cleared that spring. The event immensely powerful, mowing down whole forests and raising the valley floor of the upper Muddy Fork by as much as 20 feet. Whole trees were snapped off and carried downstream with the debris, forming huge piles that still give mute testimony to the power of the event.

Stacks of downed trees still give mute testimony to the violence of the 2002 event

Though the exact origins of the initial landslide remain unknown, the event was probably not triggered by a collapse within the Sandy Glacier that looms above the Muddy Fork, as there were few signs of the debris flow near the glacier, above the section of the upper canyon where the landslide scars were obvious. Instead, the debris flow likely began as a major slope collapse within the steep confines of upper canyon, where the Muddy Fork tumbles between sheer rock cliffs and steep talus slopes. 

The scars from the 2002 collapse are still plainly visible today (below), but the debris fields it created downstream are rapidly being reclaimed by new forests. The landslide created new cliffs and steep walls within the upper canyon, including new waterfalls along the Muddy Fork where the stream suddenly plunged over the newly exposed bedrock. 

The massive 2002 cliff collapse in the upper reaches of the Muddy Fork canyon gave birth to a debris flow that spread for miles downstream

Below the cliff-lined section of the upper canyon, the debris flow fanned out, spreading the landslide debris across the broad floor of the Muddy Fork valley. Nobody witnessed the event, so it’s unknown exactly how it played out. However, the wide debris fields of rock and sand clearly resulted from a major event, as did the complete removal of a standing forest. 

Trees swept up in the flow were stacked in piles that suggested a lot of water content in the debris flow – as much mud as it was rock – due to saturated winter soils and possibly a sudden snowmelt, perhaps from an unusually mild winter storm.  Whole trees were rafted on their sides until they were beached in giant log jams against forest stands along the valley margins that somehow survived. Evidence of the flow only became apparent when hikers returned that spring to find the Timberline Trail completely erased where it had crossed the Muddy Fork.

The raw cliffs and talus slopes surrounding McNeil Falls are still recovering from the event after 20 years

Over the course of the two decades that have since passed, the Muddy Fork quickly cut through the new debris to reach the old valley floor, revealing splintered stumps from trees that were snapped off during the event, then buried in the debris (below). This has confined the stream to a deep channel in the upper valley that limits its once-meandering ways across the valley floor, at least for now. However, the event only affected the north branch of the Muddy Fork, leaving the south branch almost untouched. 

Large trees by the thousands were snapped off and upended by the debris flow, then buried on the floor of the Muddy Fork valley

The Muddy Fork quickly excavated a new channel in the debris flow, unearthing trees like these that had been buried on their sides under the debris

While the north branch is currently confined to its newly cut channel, this is a temporary condition. Debris flows along Mount Hood’s glacial streams are a nearly constant reality, and even major events like the one that occurred on the Muddy Fork in 2002 are not uncommon. As jarring as these events are to witness, they also give us a privileged glimpse into the very processes that have shaped the mountain we know today. In time, smaller debris flows will gradually choke the current channel with debris, and the Muddy Fork will once again meander across the valley floor – just 20 feet higher than it was in 2002.

The Muddy Fork debris flow then… and now

Though it wasn’t apparent to casual visitors from a distance, hikers who knew the mountain immediately spotted the debris flow from the open slopes of Bald Mountain, where the Timberline Trail provides a sweeping view of Mount Hood’s west face. Before the debris flow, the two main branches of the Muddy Fork had similar floodways at the head of the valley, below the Sandy Glacier. As the 2003 image (below, left) shows, the north branch was suddenly much wider. Today, forest recovery has nearly erased signs of the debris field (below, right) from this vantage point.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

A closer look at this photo comparison reveals the scale of the debris flow in the summer of 2003, shortly after the event (below, left). The debris field was up to 1/4 mile wide and left up to 20 feet of debris in the channel of the north branch of the Muddy Fork. After 20 years (below, right), a carpet of green, recovering forest has already reclaimed much of the new debris field.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

Down at ground zero, the scene at the head of the Muddy Fork valley in 2003 (below, left) was of astonishing destruction. Whole forests were toppled and piled like matchsticks along the margins of the debris flow, pushing into standing forests just high enough on the valley walls to have escaped the waves of debris. 

Twenty years later (below, right), most of the forest debris remains, though new logs were added to the jumble in the September 2020 wind event (described in this WyEast Blog article) that swept over Mount Hood. The new, mostly decidious forest rapidly emerging on the debris flow can also be seen in the 2023 image as the bright green band in the mid-background.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

The debris flow was still raw and unstable in the summer of 2003 (below, left), but after 20 years, a dense young forest (below, right) of Red Alder, Cottonwood and scattered Douglas Fir is quickly stabilizing the debris field. The health and vigor of this young forest growing on a 20-foot layer of boulders, gravel and sand is testament to the remarkable fertility of volcanic soils. While this new deposit contains almost new organic matter or true soil, the mineral content is rich in iron, potassium, phosphorus and other mineral nutrients essential to plant growth.  

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

Red Alder and Cottonwood are no surprise, here. Both are pioneer species known for their ability to colonize disturbed areas – but the presence of Douglas Fir is a surprise (two can be seen in the foreground of the 2023 image). If the young firs growing within this largely deciduous new growth can keep pace with their broadleaf neighbors, the new forest could begin to be dominated with evergreen conifers within a few decades, speeding up the succession process that typically unfolds in a recovering forest.

Looking downstream (west) from the center of the debris field in 2003 (below, left) provided a true perspective on the scale of the event, with large debris deposits mounded against heaps of stacked, toppled trees. After 20 years, the recovery (below, right) is rapidly obscuring the view, though Bald Mountain can still be seen over the young tree tops. The tallest of the young trees in the 2023 view are Cottonwood and most of the smaller tree are Red Alder. The conifer in the foreground is a young Douglas Fir – roughly 15 tears old and about eight feet tall.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

Turning back (east) toward the mountain from roughly the same spot, the view in 2003 (below, left) revealed a new channel through the debris that the Muddy Fork had almost immediately begun excavating. By 2023 (below, right) the channel has been widened over the years, though its depth has since stabilized at the old valley floor level. The second photo also shows the new forest quickly hemming the channel in from both sides.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

Still, the Muddy Fork is a glacial stream, and therefore volatile. It continues to expand, then refill its new channel with debris from smaller flood events that occur almost every year.

On one of my first visits to the debris field, I spotted a row of tree stumps (below) that marked the original valley floor – or perhaps an ancient valley floor? In this spot, the Muddy Fork had cut down through the loose flow material, exposing these sure markers of a former level of the valley floor. 

One surprise is how quickly the Muddy Fork settled in to its new landscape after the debris flow. As these photos show, the stream quickly cut its way to the former valley floor then mostly stopped cutting any deeper in the many years that followed, despite its famously volatile flow. These stumps – and even the two large boulders to the left – remain today much as they were 20 years ago, despite being directly adjacent to the stream and exposed to the many flood events that occur here.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

Looking downstream (below) from just above the spot where the stumps were revealed, you can see how little change to the new channel has occurred since it was initially carved in the year after the event. The large boulder on the lip of the channel (left side of these images) is still perched there – and the three Noble fir growing it that survived the original event are still thriving today, nearly twice as tall. 

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

The most notable difference in the above photo pair is how debris has begun to refill the channel, as evidenced in the 2023 photo on the right. This process will continue over time until the channel has filled and the Muddy Fork is once again meandering across the main valley floor.

I don’t have good photo records of the narrow, upper canyon of the north branch Muddy Fork from prior to the 2002 debris flow. However, I have seen both photos (and even paintings) of this idyllic scene from the 1980s and 90s that show a waterfall here. Based on those earlier images, I do think that a single waterfall existed before the debris flow, roughly where the new falls is located today. Waterfall hunters have dubbed this “McNeil Falls”, referencing nearby McNeil Point – just off to the right in the photo pair, below.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

While the landslide and debris flow that it triggered in 2002 did seem to move McNeil Falls somewhat, the most notable change was to produce a twin waterfall – something waterfall hunters (the author included!) prize. However, as the reshaped falls has continued to evolve over the two decades since the event, the two segments have gradually begun to merge into one – or so I thought until I took a closer look for this article. 

In the following photo pair, you can see that the Muddy Fork has actually been carving away debris from the sloped bedrock, and simply moved the falls northward and down the cliff scarp. You can see the shift by matching the rocks marked “A” on the right, the dark notch to the left of the letter “B” and the protruding rock marked “C” that – surprisingly – used to divide the two tiers of the falls! Today, the south (right) tier of the semi-twin drop is really the original north tier, and a completely new tier has formed to the left of this original tier where landslide debris was cleared from the rock ledge. 

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

Look closely at the above photo pair and you can also see some very large boulders perched to the left of the falls as they existed in 2003. These have since been eroded away, and contributed to the pile of rock debris that has accumulated at the base of the falls in the 2023 photo –shortening the falls a bit.

What will the future bring for McNeil Falls? My guess is that it will continue to shift north a bit more, likely becoming a single tier – twin waterfalls are rare! But even as it find its way to a lower brink along that cliff scarp, the stream will also gradually move loose rock away from the base of the falls as the canyon walls stabilize, so it might become taller over time. There are other examples of exactly this phenomenon on other big waterfalls around Mount Hood – most notably, Stranahan Falls, on the Eliot Branch, which has gained at least 30 feet in height from an eroding canyon floor at its base. Of course, McNeil Falls will also continue to suffer the brunt of the Muddy Fork’s volatile nature and keep changing and reinventing for centuries (and millennia) to come.

Downstream from the falls, the bed of the Muddy Fork continues to gradually collect new debris as the channel carved in the years immediately after the debris flow continues to fill. This can be seen in the photo pair (below), where large boulders now fill the floor of the new channel – and even support young alder and willow pioneers on small midstream islands.

[click here for a large version of this photo pair]

The downstream effects of the 2002 debris flow on the Muddy Fork were less dramatic, yet still reshaped the way the river flows through its valley. This view of the valley (below) from Bald Mountain is roughly two miles below the source of the debris flow. The large rock and gravel deposits along the stream are still plainly visible twenty years later, though the bright green alder and willow colonies have begun to reforest the flooded area. In this view, you can also see the bleached ghost trees along both sides of the stream that were killed by the debris flow. 

Though riparian trees like Sitka alder and willows are making inroads, the Muddy Fork continues to meander across the debris flow where the valley is less steep and the stream less channeled

These disturbed areas now serve as important habitat for raptors and cavity-nesting birds alike, along with many other species that require standing skeleton trees to survive. The dense new riparian growth (below) is equally important to many species that require streamside habitat. While major events like the 2002 debris flow might be shocking for us, it’s also a reminder that violent processes like this are built into the cycle of the ecosystem – they are required for the species who have adapted over millennia to forests that continually cycle through disruption and recovery. 

Large areas of the debris flow have recovered further downstream from the event, marked by the bright green stands of alder, willow and cottonwood along the Muddy Fork in this view from Bald Mountain

Debris flow pioneers

Whether from fire, debris flow or even human-caused events like logging, watching our forests recover and rebuild provides invaluable insight into the role individual species play in the health of forests. Where we used to value our forests mostly for the lumber that could be harvested (and therefore, mostly for big conifers) we now know that non-commercial species like alder, willow and cottonwood are as essential to forest health as the conifers.

Twenty years into the recovery, I expected to find Sitka alder (below) dominating the young forests returning to the debris flow, as these tough, adaptable trees among the first to reclaim disturbed ground wherever it might occur. They are often called “slide alder” for their ability to survive in avalanche chutes, as they freely bend and give under the heaviest of winter snow loads, often popping new leads from horizontal, snowpack-flattened limbs. But alders have a super-power that is especially important in forest recovery: they are nitrogen fixers that enrich the soil as they grow, making them uniquely suited as pioneers in disturbed areas.

Sitka alder growing on the Muddy Fork debris flow

What I didn’t expect to find in the recovering forest atop the debris flow were Black cottonwood (below). Yet, many are thriving throughout the alder thickets, outpacing the alders since they can easily grow to 50-60 feet in mountain environments compared to just 30-40 feet for alders. Cottonwood are fast growers, too, especially where they can tap into a steady supply of groundwater – something the shallow water table in the Muddy Fork valley provides in abundance. They are important wildlife trees, too, including the browse they provide as young trees and the nesting cavities that form in the trunks of older trees as they mature.

Cottonwood growing on the Muddy Fork debris flow

An even more startling pioneer in the recovering forest on the debris flow are Douglas fir (below). These trees don’t require much of an introduction — as our state tree and a species found all over Oregon. I didn’t expect to find so many here, in part because we’ve been conditioned by the timber industry to believe these native conifers must be hand-planted after logging, and then only after all other vegetation that might compete has been killed with herbicides.  

Douglas fir growing on the Muddy Fork debris flow

Douglas fir are fast growers, and with their early arrival as pioneers in the new forests along the Muddy Fork, there’s a good chance they will keep pace with both the alders and cottonwood and quickly begin to restore a conifer overstory – though “quick” is measured in decades and centuries when describing forest recovery! 

Douglas maple growing on the Muddy Fork debris flow

Another surprise in the new forest growing on the debris flow is Douglas maple (above), a close cousin to our Vine maple, and sometimes called Rocky Mountain maple. These attractive trees are sprinkled throughout the young trees returning to the Muddy Fork and they are positioned to become part of the future understory of a mature conifer stand. Where alder and cottonwood are eventually shaded out by taller conifers, Douglas maple are more tolerant of shade, and can coexist with the big trees. They are also more drought-tolerant than their Vine maple cousins, and thus well-suited to the sandy upper layers of the debris flow that can become quite dry during summer droughts.

The cycle continues… except faster, now

Just as the recent series of wildfires in WyEast country have given us the gift of insight into how a forest regenerates after a burn, the debris flow on the Muddy Fork is providing a glimpse into the resilience of Mount Hood’s forests in the face of growing disturbances from climate-driven floods, landslides and debris flows. There is no way to know if the 2002 landslide in the Muddy Fork canyon was triggered by climate change, yet scientists do know that extreme rain events and unusually saturated soils are increasingly triggering such events. And while these events have always occurred, the extreme and often erratic nature of our storms in recent years has accelerated the pace and scale of flooding and debris-flow events on the mountain. The good news from the Muddy Fork is that our forests are – so far – coping well with these changes, especially in riparian areas where the restored habitat is most critical. 

Early 1900s scene along the upper Sandy River

Historic images and geologic evidence show these events to be part of a timeless cycle of destruction and rebirth. This image (above) show the upper Sandy River valley in the early 1900s, with mix of debris and young streamside vegetation (the willows and alders toward the background) that look much like today’s conditions. Clearly, periodic floods and debris flow events had always played a role, here.

This image (below) is a wider, hand-tinted view from about 1900 that shows the Muddy Fork branch of the Sandy River hugging the left side of the valley, with obvious signs of flooding and debris flows. There’s a story in the young forests covering the balance of the flat Sandy River valley floor, too (known as Old Maid Flat) in this view: at the time the photo was taken, just over a century had elapsed since the Old Maid eruptions on Mount Hood covered this entire valley with a debris flow that extended 50 miles downstream to the Columbia River, creating today’s Sandy River Delta. This very early view also shows burn scars (colorized as white snow) around the western foot of the mountain that have long-since recovered, and are now covered with dense forests of Noble fir.

The Muddy Fork is the open channel on the left in this colorized view of the Sandy River Valley from about 1900

While these events may seem random and jarring in from the perspective of a human lifetime, when you connect the dots between events over geologic time, the continuum is that of a mountain in a perpetual state of both eroding and occasionally rebuilding itself, one catastrophic event after another.

It is this long view that helps us understand and appreciate how our forests have evolved not to a specific end-state (the view from a logging perspective), but instead, have evolved to continually adapt to their conditions in a perpetual state of renewal and rebirth. The fact that our forests are rebounding so readily in places like the Muddy Fork or the scorched slopes of the Gorge fire — even now, in the midst of climate change – is both inspiring and reassuring in a time of unprecedented change in the world around us.

10 Years After the Dollar Lake Fire

The Dollar Lake Fire at its peak in early September 2011

On August 26, 2011, a lightning storm ignited a small wildfire near Inspiration Point, just below the Elk Cove Trail on Mount Hood’s north side. What became known as the Dollar Lake Fire started in full view on a Friday, during the busy summer hiking season. The fire was immediately photographed and reported to the Forest Service by several hikers – and in full view from the Hood River Ranger Station near Parkdale, a few miles north.

The initial Forest Service response was to allow the fire to burn, consistent with agency policy on wildland fires. It seemed to be a small, slow-moving event, and it was located completely within the boundaries of the Mount Hood Wilderness, where no structures would be threatened. Besides, there were several other big fires burning in Oregon that summer already competing for the agency’s stretched resources.

Forests exploding into flames near Vista Ridge as the Dollar Lake Fire moved west

Over the next ten days everything changed. Unseasonably strong east winds began to fan the blaze, exploding the fire to more than 4,500 acres. And it was still spreading fast, with just 10 percent of the fire perimeter contained. As the fire continued to spread, it made a run toward Lolo Pass, threatening the Bonneville Power Administration transmission corridor and Portland’s Bull Run Watershed – the source of drinking water for more than a million people. 

Suddenly, it had become the top firefighting priority in the state. At its peak there were hundreds of firefighters battling the Dollar Lake Fire as it continued to burn and spread westward.

By the time the fall rains arrived that October, the fire had consumed more than 6,300 acres of subalpine forest in a 5-mile swath stretching from the historic Cloud Cap Inn on the east to Cathedral Ridge on the west. The historic Timberline Trail was largely spared, surprisingly, but much of the high elevation forest just below the tree line was completely burned. These forests were dominated by  Mountain Hemlock, Noble Fir and Western Larch stands that had last burned more than a century ago.

Dollar Lake Fire from above the Hood River Valley in early September 2011

Like the Eagle Creek Fire that would follow in 2017, the Dollar Lake Fire provided a front-row seat for people in the greater Portland area to better appreciate the awesome power of a wildfire. Much of the media coverage focused on the destructive force of these fires, but in the aftermath, both events have also served to raise awareness of both the need and benefits of fire, as well as the resiliency of a recovering forest. 

In 2016 I posted this 5-year progress report on the forest recovery in the wake of the Dollar Lake Fire. At the time, the recovery was in its earliest stages, though making remarkable progress. The past summer marks the tenth growing season since the fire, and this article is a visual update on the ongoing forest recovery in the wake of the fire.

The recovery has come a long, long way…

Charred forests along Vista Ridge in June 2012

When I first ventured into the burn zone in June 2012, the devastation seemed nearly complete. Much of the Dollar Lake Fire had been a scorching crown fire that killed entire forests, as opposed to a beneficial ground fire that might have burned away forest debris, but left many of the mature trees surviving. As a result, there is little of the desirable “mosaic” burn pattern in the Dollar Lake burn, where islands of trees spared by the fire help spur the forest recovery and provide refuge for wildlife during the burn – another beneficial effect of a less catastrophic fire. 

Bark piles forming one year after the fire in 2012

Living conifers don’t really burn in a high-intensity event like the Dollar Lake Fire. Instead, they’re quickly killed, but mostly left standing. The heat of the fire torches green needles, blackens tree bark and explodes the thin, moist cambium layer under their bark — the living tissue that connects a tree’s roots to its green foliage — but leaves the solid interior of a tree unburned.

This effect of a very hot fire could be seen all over the ground in the immediate aftermath of the fire in 2012. Great piles of scorched tree bark had sluffed off the standing trees, no longer attached by a living cambium layer. Early in the recovery, these bark piles were crucial in helping prevent erosion of the bare, burned ground, and also provided the first protected spots for pioneer seedling to take hold.

The ground itself was also scorched and black, but even in that first spring after the fire it was clear that some of the understory plants had survived. Thanks to their protected underground root systems., Beargrass and Avalanche Lily were already sprouting from the burnt soil just eight months after the fire.

Beargrass emerging from the blackened soil in June 2012

Avalanche lilies emerging from the burned forest in June 2012

In the first year after the fire, the bare, de-barked snags of trees killed by the fire were a striking reddish color, but just one summer of sun exposure quickly began to fade them into the silver “ghost forest” of today. A full decade of harsh mountain weather has since removed many of the smaller limbs from the standing “ghosts” and as their roots decay with time, many of the killed trees are now falling. This growing accumulation of downed logs adds still more organic debris to the burned ground, and provides shade and nutrients to help young plants to germinate and grow.

At 10 years the post-fire pioneers are still at work

As the Dollar Lake Fire recovery progressed over the past ten summers, a familiar sequence unfolded in the most intensely burned areas, where the fire had burned to bare soil. Pink, abundant Firestar (aka Fireweed) [add a blog link here] was the first to reseed into the burn area. The surviving Avalanche Lilies also took advantage of cleared soil, and within just a few years these tiny plants were creating a spectacular flower show for early summer visitors to the Dollar Lake burn.

This intensely burned ravine along Vista Ridge was filled with Firestar in the first years after the fire, but has not transitioned to shrubby understory plants, a few small conifers and sun-loving perennials Pearly everlasting and Goldenrod

In the first summer (2012) after the fire, only a few Avalanche Lilies grew in this section of the burn. Five years after the fire (2016) Firestar dominated this area with its lush foliage and beautiful blooms, growing as much as 4 feet tall. Ten growing seasons after the fire (2022) shows the transition from the early post-fire pioneers like Firestar, to shrubby plants like Huckleberry and Azalea, with many 2 or 3-foot tall confers mixed in.

Next, conifers and shrubby plants began to appear, and they have steadily expanded their presence to dominate the areas where the recovery has made the most progress. In other areas – especially at higher elevations in the burn zone – the pioneering Firestar still dominates, and small conifers and shrubby understory plants are only beginning to appear, yet these slower areas are following the same succession pattern from wildflowers to young trees and shrubs.

Huckleberries growing from surviving roots in a heavily burned area five years after the fire

Heading into the recovery, a surprising number of mountain Huckleberry plants that had dominated the understory before the fire were emerging from their unburned roots. After ten years, familiar thickets of Huckleberry are already producing heavy berry crops in places where the fire burned less hot. However, outside these less-burned areas new Huckleberry plants have been slow to take hold, and are only just beginning to appear, despite their prolific fruit production and subsequent distribution of seeds by bird and other wildlife. 

It turns out that Huckleberries spread mostly by layering – the term for roots that form when a sprawling branch or twig touches the ground, starting a new plant that will eventually grow separately from the parent. It’s a slower process than spreading by seed, but the post-fire recovery of Huckleberries is revealing the advantages of a deeply rooted plant that can readily regrow from its many sprawling, rooted stems.

Huckleberries bounced back quickly in lightly burned areas, producing fruit within five years of the fire

They don’t produce a tasty fruit like Huckleberry, but our native Azalea (and its lookalike, False Azalea) have also bounced back strongly in areas where the fire was less hot, allowing more of their roots to survive. Before the burn, these plants were one of the most prolific understory shrubs, often mixed in with Huckleberries. But while Huckleberries are beginning to take hold in more intensely burned areas, thanks to their broad seed distribution, few Azalea (and False Azalea) have appeared in these areas at this point in the recovery.

Azalea returning in a lightly burned area  five years after the fire

In the early years of the recovery, Firestar dominated the entire burn and formed spectacular drifts with its elegant, violet flower spikes. Firestar are sun-loving perennials that grow readily from seeds carried in the wind on silky sails, and thus their ability to rapidly colonize a burn in the years immediately following a fire.

After ten growing seasons, Firestar continue to dominate higher elevations in the burn, where the summers are shorter and the forest recovery is slower. At lower elevations in the burn, the shade these plants initially provided for other seedlings has allowed a diverse array of other understory plants to become established and thrive, largely replacing Firestar. These are workhorse plants that are essential to post-fire recovery, yet their role is a fleeting one.

Firestar was everywhere in the early years of the forest recovery

Firestar still carpets the higher elevation ghost forests of the Dollar Lake burn where the recovery is unfolding more slowly

One of the less obvious pioneers of the early recovery are Rushes. Normally associated with wet areas, they were a surprising piece of the forest recovery puzzle when they appeared scattered throughout the burn in the first years. These are perennials with tough root systems that help hold bare soil and also make them somewhat drought tolerant.

Rush

Were Rushes growing here before the fire, and simply emerged from surviving roots after the burn, just as some of the Beargrass that survived? That’s probably the best explanation, but Rushes are one of the surprising early workhorses in the recovery that continue to be thrive as part of the recovering forest.

Berries are among the new arrivals

After ten growing seasons, the recovery in the aftermath of the Dollar Lake Fire has entered an explosive new phase. The diversity of plant species in the regenerating understory is rapidly expanding to include a surprising variety of new shrubs and small deciduous trees that are taking hold among the surviving huckleberries and azaleas.

Among the new arrivals are five new berry-bearing shrubs and small trees, including (pictured below, in order) our native Wild raspberry, Mountain ash, Thimbleberry, Red-flowering currant and Red Elderberry. Add these to the freely fruiting Huckleberries, and the recovering burn has become a summer magnet for birds, bears and other wildlife that thrive on our native berries. These animals, in turn, spread the seeds from these berries, further accelerating the forest recovery.

Wild raspberry

Mountain ash

Thimbleberry

Red-flowering currant

Red elderberry

 Broadleaf trees are also making a comeback in the burn zone, though they tend to be scattered and still somewhat uncommon at this stage of the recovery. Among these are Scouler’s willow, Cottonwood and the subalpine Sitka alder – three species that typically colonize forest openings and mountain roadsides where they have access to sun. 

Within the burn zone, Scouler’s willow and Sitka alder can thrive all the way to timberline (at 6,000 feet), while Black cottonwood typically grow below about 5,000. These species are likely to expand their presence in coming years, as they are fast-growing pioneers that can outpace young conifers, and often fill recently burned or cleared areas in the first decades of recovery. 

Scouler’s willow

Young Cottonwood seedling

Cottonwood foliage

Sitka alder

This natural progression from deciduous trees to conifers in recovering forests is purposely skipped over in most commercial logging operations on both public and private timber lands. Timber companies typically use herbicides to kill the surviving understory in the first growing season following a new clearcut, including deciduous trees like these. Then conifer seedlings are planted to accelerate the production of new saw logs. 

While this practice maximizes profits, but it also robs the soil of years of organic debris from deciduous trees, along with the nitrogen that species like Red alder uniquely fix in the soil with their root systems, enriching it for future, larger conifers to thrive. New research has also revealed that Red alder and other nitrogen-fixing deciduous species actually break down solid rock into available minerals for other tree species to absorb, including the conifers that typically follow Red alder in forest recovery. This newly understood benefit of the deciduous phase of forest recovery is especially crucial in our mountain forests, where soils are thin and rocky.

Wildflowers continue to expand their role, too

Wildflowers were the first pioneers to the burn, and they continue to play an important role in the recovery. After ten growing seasons, the list of prominent wildflowers in the burn has expanded from Avalanche Lily, Beargrass and Firestar to include many new species. The most prominent among the new arrivals are Goldenrod and Pearly everlasting. Both are late-blooming, sun-loving and drought tolerant species that are now thriving and spreading throughout the burn.

Goldenrod

Other new wildflower arrivals include purple Asters and several species of Lupine. These are sun-lovers that were not present in shade of the forest before the burn. Their arrival shows the ability of plants to reseed across miles of burned forest with the help of birds, other wildlife and hiker’s boots. Over time (as measured in decades) returning conifers will shade these slopes, once again, and these wildflowers will fade away, ceding the burn area to more shade-tolerant species, once again.

Aster

Dwarf lupine

A new forest is emerging… slowly

The mystique of replanting burned areas runs deep in Oregon lore, with Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) crews replanting burns throughout Oregon in the 1930s and school kids from Portland helping replant the infamous Tillamook Burn – a series of four large, overlapping burns in the Coast Range that stretched from 1933 to 1951. As it is today on private timber lands, the focus then was on salvaging burned trees and planting conifer seedlings to produce new, harvestable trees as quickly as possible. 

Colony of Noble fir seedlings growing in a protected enclosure of fallen logs on Vista Ridge

In nature, conifers do readily reseed after fires and logging, but compared to understory plants capable of regrowing from surviving roots, conifer seedlings are initially slow to compete. They’re also vulnerable to the harsh conditions in mountain settings – long, cold winters with a snowpack measured in feet followed by very dry summers with almost no precipitation from July through September. 

At ten years, the Dollar Fire recovery includes plenty of young conifers, though most are still just a foot tall and less than five years old. Few of these seedlings will survive to become large trees. The lucky few that do are typically found in protected spots – in the shade of standing snags or among fallen, decaying logs that provide shade and nutrients.

Noble fir seedlings growing along a fallen log, where their roots are shaded and the log helps conserve soil moisture and provides nutrients as it slowly decays

Noble fir seedings huddled  on the cool, shaded north side of standing ghost trees

The clumping of young conifers is a preview of what is to come in the recovery. Walk through a 30 or 40-year-old burn and you will find trees growing in groups, providing protection for one another and sharing the best spots for young trees to grow. Over decades, these groups will expand and grow together, forming a continuous stand. Over centuries, just a few of these original trees will survive to become forest giants. 

Mixed colony of Mountain hemlock and Noble fir competing in a favorable nursery spot among fallen logs

The small grove of Noble fir in the distance survived the fire, and now these trees protect one another in their suddenly exposed setting. In the coming decades, more colonies of young trees like these will begin to reforest the Dollar Lake burn – first in small groups and later spreading to once again form a continuous canopy

In the first years of the recovery, young conifers in the Dollar Lake burn were mostly Mountain hemlock and Noble fir, two species that dominate subalpine forests on Mount Hood. But at ten years, the recovery includes a couple new species in the mix: Lodgepole pine and Western white pine. 

Both pines are common trees in our mountain forests, though with different growth habits. Lodgepole tend to grow in stands, often in dry, rocky sites. Western white pine rarely grow in stands, and are instead sprinkled throughout a mature forest. Both species bring diversity to the emerging forest that underscores the benefit of periodic fires in our forest ecosystem.

Two pines are returning to the burn – Western white pine (left) and the more common Lodgepole pine (right).

All of the photos in this article were taken along the Vista Ridge Trail in the Mount Hood Wilderness, a route the climbs through the heart of the Dollar Lake burn, from about the 4,000-foot level to the Timberline Trail, at about 6,000 feet elevation. This is prime Noble fir country, but at lower elevations in the burn, conifers like Western larch are an important part of the forest recovery. Oddly missing (thus far) at the lower elevations of the burn are Douglas fir. In time, this iconic species will undoubtedly join the rest of the evergreens re-establishing the forest here.

Why is tree species diversity so important in a forest? While it’s true that we have many ancient stands that are largely of a single species, climate change will almost certainly affect the recovery of the Dollar Fire burn. The recent fires on Mount Hood and in the Gorge will give us a living laboratory to see just how individual species fare with longer, warmer summers and milder winters. The new watch word in climate science is resiliency – the ability to adapt and survive in rapidly changing conditions.

For our forests, species resiliency will be the key, as our climate is expected to change too quickly for individual species to adapt to through natural selection. Instead, it will be the species already suited to warmer, dryer conditions that will be able to survive and thrive in the future. The best guess in the Pacific Northwest is that our climate zones will shift north by a few hundred miles. That could mean Portland someday having a climate like today’s Roseburg or Medford, with Mount Hood’s forests someday looking more like today’s Southern Oregon Cascades. 

The roles are reversed in this Cascade forest, located 300 miles south of Mount Hood at about 5,000 elevation; Lodgepole pine are the predominant species, with young Noble fir and Mountain hemlock sprinkled within the Lodgepole stands. The debris piles are part of a fuel reduction effort in this forest near Crater Lake.

Forest scientists are already experimenting with this possibility by planting test stands of Southern Oregon forest species in British Columbia, hundreds of miles north of their native latitude. The larger question is whether whole forests will adapt this way over time through gradual migration, or whether it will up to individual species to quickly select more drought-tolerant mutations in their gene pool – a proposition that will centuries to play out. 

In the meantime, some tree species already present on Mount Hood are already poised to gradually assume a larger role in the forest of the future. 

Today, Lodgepole pine are mostly found in scattered groves near rocky outcroppings and on dry slopes on Mount Hood, but the species still dominates areas where the volcanic eruptions of the late 1700s laid down deep layers of debris in the White River, Zigzag and Sandy River valleys. While they may look young, these are often very old trees, stunted by their harsh growing conditions.

Stunted, slow-growing lodgepole pine are still the dominant conifer some 200 years after the Old Maid eruptions laid down deep gravel deposits on the floor of the Sandy River canyon

Newly forming soils are thin at Old Maid Flat, revealed by shallow-rooted Lodgepole that are easily tipped  in winter storms

Just five inches in diameter, this stunted Lodgepole at Old Maid Flat was over 75 years old when it was felled for firewood

Lodgepole are well-adapted to these sandy, nutrient-poor soils. After more than two centuries, other conifer species are only beginning to appear in these Lodgepole stands. These slowly recovering forests may be a preview of how future burns will recover in Mount Hood’s future.

In this way, having a few Lodgepole pine and Western white pine join the recovering forest mix as part of the Dollar Fire recovery is a good insurance policy, should the Noble fir and Mountain hemlock forests that once stood here struggle to thrive in a changing climate.

What’s next for the Dollar Lake Fire recovery?

While much has changed in just ten growing seasons, the forest recovery from the Dollar Lake Fire has only begun. The lives of our big trees and mature forests evolve over centuries, not in the few decades of a human life. Everyone reading this article will be long gone when the forests here look anything like they did before the fire, though we will witness the earliest stages of a new forest forming.

Hikers in the ghost forests on Vista Ridge in August 2022

We’re accustomed to pushing our forests to grow on our terms for maximum profit – mass replanting of marketable conifers and skipping over the initial recovery of understory plants and deciduous trees by aggressive use of herbicides. Like most of our forest practices centered on log production, we’re now learning that nature knows how to do this better than we ever will, and in ways we’re still just beginning to understand. 

On Mount Hood, nature has been given the opportunity to recover on her own terms where the Dollar Fire roared through, without logging and plantation planting. This is because much of the burn had been set aside as an expansion of the Mount Hood Wilderness just two years before the fire, in 2009. Thus, no rush to “salvage” burned trees by the timber industry. Instead, the slow-motion recovery of the forest, as it has done countless times before over the millennia. 

Fallen logs within the Mount Hood Wilderness must be cleared with hand tools

Though the Dollar Lake Fire was caused by lightning, most of the intense fires we have seen on Mount Hood, in the Gorge and around Oregon over the past two decades are a product of human carelessness. The large majority of forest fires are human-caused, in fact, and made more catastrophic by fuels built up from 120 years of fire suppression and our warming, drying climate.  

It’s safe to assume this is the “new normal”, too, and thus the importance of understanding how our forests recover after these events – and most importantly, turning our attention to the future, when conditions favoring these fires will be increasingly common. The good news is that nature is remarkably resilient, especially when we don’t get in the way. We’re seeing that unfold in just a decade of recovery across the Dollar Lake burn.

As the forest recovery continues to evolve, there will be plenty of changes for those who walk the trails on Mount Hood, too. We have already entered a phase of the recovery where the shrubby understory has begun to return with gusto at lower elevations. This is going to mean lots of brushing by hand to keep once-shady trails open, along with ongoing logouts for snags that will drop across trails for decades to come. It’s hard work, but also rewarding – and a another way to better understand how the forest is recovering.

Hand-sawed log among more than 70 cleared by Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO) crews in 2020

Most of this trail maintenance on the Vista Ridge trail is done by volunteers with Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO). In 2020 and 2021, alone, TKO’s volunteer sawyers cut through nearly 100 fallen logs along this trail with crosscut saws – a requirement inside the wilderness area, where mechanized equipment is not permitted. Brushing will also be done by volunteers for the foreseeable future, by hand with clippers and loppers. 

If you’d like to lend a hand you can watch the TKO events calendar. You can find more information about TKO events here:

Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO)

One-day trail parties on Vista Ridge and other trails within the Dollar Lake burn are scheduled every summer, usually from mid-July through September. No experience is needed and all abilities are welcome – the only requirement is a desire to give back!

Elk Cove Avalanche!

Mount Hood from Elk Cove in 2021

When it comes to bucolic alpine scenes on Mount Hood, it’s hard to beat Elk Cove. From the spectacular wildflower gardens that line ice-cold Cove Creek to the sweeping views of Mount Hood and the mighty Coe Glacier, the cove serves up one postcard scene after another. 

But behind the mountain scenery are some very wild winters. The same steep walls that give Elk Cove its alpine beauty are also a setup for powerful avalanches. These mostly originate on the lower slopes of Barrett Spur and sweep across the cove with surprising regularity. 

Mount Hood in 1931 from the same spot as the previous photo, when trees were more sparse at Elk Cove

Early photos of Elk Cove suggest that avalanches were once even more devastating than what we experience today, and probably more frequent, judging by the advancing stands of Mountain Hemlock that have since spread across the cove. The change is most likely a reflection of our warming climate and declining snowpack in recent decades, but winter continues to take its toll. Major avalanches still roar into the cove with regularity, leveling trees and leaving piles of debris in their wake.

The shell of the old CCC stone shelter at Elk Cove as it appeared in the early 1960s, after being hit by numerous avalanches over the prior 30 years

When the Timberline Trail was built through Elk Cove in the early 1930s, Franklin Roosevelt’s legendary Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) constructed one of their many iconic stone shelters here, one of six that were built along the trail. They couldn’t have known the site they picked was perhaps the most exposed to avalanches of any spot within the cove, and by the early 1960s, the shelter had already been badly damaged. Today, only a few rocks mark the shelter’s former location.

The 2021 Elk Cove Avalanche

Sometime last winter, yet another avalanche swept off the lower slopes of Barrett Spur, once again landing very near where the old stone CCC shelter had once stood. The debris field left behind by the avalanche was easily spotted by hikers ascending Barrett Spur over the summer, and it is also visible from the Timberline Trail where it enters the Elk Cove.

The following schematic shows Elk Cove and the path of the 2021 avalanche in relation to Mount Hood:

[click here for a larger version of this schematic]

This schematic gives a more detailed view of Elk Cove and the approximate path of the 2021 avalanche, including the steep wall along Barrett Spur that is so prone to avalanches (the Timberline Trail is shown in dashed yellow):

[click here for a larger version of this schematic]

From the ground, the debris field left where the avalanche came to rest is striking. This series of views looking down from 99 Ridge (which forms the west wall of Elk Cove) show where the avalanche stopped, and the debris it left behind:

Mount Hood and the 2021 Elk Cove avalanche site

Closer view of Elk Cove and the avalanche debris field

More detailed view of the avalanche debris field

This detailed view from above gives a sense of scale to the hundreds of trees that were caught up in the avalanche and swept into Elk Cove

The debris comes into view where the Timberline Trail curves into the west meadow of Elk Cove, along beautiful Cove Creek. Most hikers were likely too busy looking at the wildflowers along the trail this summer to notice the pile of logs just around the bend, but for regular visitors, the avalanche debris was startling!

Elk Cove avalanche and Cove Creek from the Timberline Trail

The origin of the avalanche can be read from the orientation of the many trees caught up in the wave of snow and ice, as they generally point in the direction of the flow. The schematic below shows the path the avalanche took into Elk Cove before the snow and debris finally came to a stop last winter:

[click here for a larger version of this schematic]

Up close, the awesome power of the avalanche becomes apparent. Whole trees were snapped off and stacked like cordwood in a debris pile as much as 20-foot deep.

The avalanche swept down from the slopes of Barrett Spur (to the right in this view), as indicated by the felled trees pointing to the left, in the direction of the flow

In a typical winter, Elk Cove might have 15-20 feet of snow on the ground, and this snowpack is why small trees on steep mountain slopes are often spared from avalanches, since they are buried under heavy snow in winter. In the view below, the winter snowpack also protected the lush wildflower gardens that line the upper reaches of Cove Creek (seen in the distance), with the avalanche sweeping across these gentle slopes before finally settling on the floor of the cove.

The beautiful wildflower meadows in the upper reaches of Cove Creek were spared from the debris thanks to being on gently sloped terrain and under a blanket of winter snow when the avalanche swept through

Large trees aren’t so fortunate. If they’ve managed to escape avalanches along the base of Barrett Spur long enough to grow taller than the winter snowpack, it’s only luck. In time, most of the taller trees in Elk Cove will be swept away by future avalanches. 

This panoramic view of the 2021 avalanche gives a sense of the scale of the event, with the sprawling pile of debris covering roughly 2-3 acres:

Panoramic view of the 2021 Elk Cove avalanche

[click here for a larger version of the panorama]

By early August, when these photos were taken, it would be easy to think the avalanche was just a pile of trees roaring down the mountain, but in fact, this debris is what’s left now that most of the snow and ice has melted away. Look closely, and you can see that a layer of snow and ice has yet to melt away from under the pile when this photo was taken:

6-10 feet of snow still remains under the debris pile as of early August

The 2021 avalanche dumped part of its debris on top of Cove Creek, but the stream made quick work of the pile over the winter. By summer, it had already melted an extensive tunnel under the mountain of snow, ice and debris (below).

Cove Creek carved this snow cave under the debris pile following the avalanche

The huge pile of snow left in Elk Cove by the avalanche brought another surprise: some of the earliest blooming wildflowers were still just emerging in early August, thanks to the extra snow depth left behind by the avalanche. Among these was Western Pasque Flower, a species of Anemone that blooms within a couple weeks of snowmelt, and therefore rarely see by hikers. In fact, most know this beautiful wildflower by its whimsical seed heads, and by the name “Old Man of the Mountain”. The opening image in this article shows a field of Western Pasque Flower gone to seed.

Normally an early bloomer, this Western Pasque Flower was in bloom in early August, thanks to the late-melting margins of the avalanche debris field

How often to avalanches like this occur at Elk Cove? Probably every winter, though events large enough to topple trees seem to occur every 10 years or so, depending on snowpack and weather conditions. Avalanches are most common in mid-winter, when weak snow layers and heavy snowfalls can cause snow to begin to slide on steep mountain slopes. Once they begin, avalanches can travel nearly 60 miles per hour, giving them the destructive force to level forests and buildings in their path.

Ghosts Hiding in Plain Sight

While the 2021 avalanche at Elk Cove is impressive, it is by no means unusual. A look at aerial photos between 2010 and 2021 shows that another avalanche swept through the same area in about 2015. Based on the orientation of downed trees from his earlier event, it originated on some of the same slopes on Barrett Spur that produced the last winter’s avalanche.

In the air photo comparison, below, the location of the new, 2021 avalanche debris pile is marked in yellow. When the 2010 air photo was taken, the forests at the center of the image were intact, but by the summer of 2016, an avalanche had clearly swept through the area. Based on the lack of reddish/orange debris in the 2016 image – the color of recently killed trees – suggests that this avalanche occurred at least a year earlier. So, for the purpose of this article, I’ve described it as the “2015 Avalanche”, and marked its extend in green.

Air photos show the signs of a roughly 2015 avalanche that swept through the same part of Elk Cove as the 2021 event

In both the 2016 and 2018 views, the path of this earlier avalanche is clearly marked by downed trees that point in the direction (right to left) of the moving snow and ice. Though it impacted a larger area in the cove than the 2021 avalanche, the 2015 event brought less woody debris into the cove, suggesting that it originated on a less forested part of the west wall of Elk Cove. In fact, some of the trees in its path on the floor of the cove survived the avalanche, suggesting that the lack of woody debris in the 2015 event made it somewhat less destructive where it finally came to a stop.

While both of these avalanches are awesome reminders of the power of the elements in alpine country, Elk Cove has a few ghosts from the past that suggest much more fearsome events. Tucked into one of the mature, forested “tree islands” at Elk Cove is a ghost tree that give mute testimony to just how powerful an avalanche on Mount Hood can be. The stump of this ghost tree (below) is nearly four feet in diameter and was toppled many decades ago. 

This giant ghost tree at Elk Cove was toppled long ago by a very large avalanche

This old ghost was once a very large Mountain Hemlock before it was toppled. Today, its broken remains could easily be 100 years old, marking an avalanche that might have preceded the arrival of the Timberline Trail and those 1930s CCC crews on Mount Hood. 

How do we know this old tree was destroyed by an avalanche? The telltale sign is where the tree was snapped off, marking the level of the winter snowpack when the avalanche swept through, and its top is pointed downslope, in the direction the avalanche was moving. Thanks to long, cold winters and dry summers, the shattered remains of this old tree (and several others like it in the cove) have survived to tell the story. 

Since that big avalanche, several good-sized trees have grown up around the old ghost tree, helping put an approximate date of 70-100 years since any avalanche of this scale has swept through the heart of Elk Cove. And though it has been many decades since that event, the days of these younger trees are surely numbered, too, as another epic avalanche in Elk Cove is inevitable.

How to Visit

If you’re an able-bodied hiker, you can visit Elk Cove most easily from the Vista Ridge trailhead. It’s a 9-mile hike round trip, but with well-graded trails and no glacial streams to navigate. If you visit the avalanche debris field, please tread lightly, as the rustic path that once led to the upper reaches of Cove Creek was partly buried with debris, and the surrounding area is covered with a fragile meadow of Western Pasque Flower.

You can find a trail description here in the Oregon Hikers Field Guide. Why, you might even know the author of this field guide entry..!

Tom Kloster | August 2021

Kohnstamm Memorial Trail?

Entering the Kohnstamm Memorial Wilderness

When President Barack Obama signed the Omnibus Public Lands Management Act of 2009 into law on March 30, 2009, more than a dozen new pocket wilderness areas and additions to existing wilderness were created around Mount Hood and in the Clackamas watershed. 

Among these, the Richard L. Kohnstamm Memorial Area expanded the Mount Hood Wilderness to the east of Timberline Lodge to encompass the White River canyon, extending from Mount Hood’s crater to about the 5,000 foot level, including a segment of the Timberline Trail and Pacific Crest Trail that traverses the canyon. This wilderness addition was created to “recognize the balance between wild and developed areas in the national public lands system and to create a tribute to the man who saved Timberline Lodge.”

The wilder side of the Timberline area is now the Kohnstamm Memorial Area, an extension of the Mount Hood Wilderness just east of the lodge

Richard Kohnstamm was the longtime force behind the RLK Company, operators of the Timberline Resort, which has a permit to operate the historic Timberline Lodge, which in turn is owned by the American public. 

After his duty as a gunner during World War II, Kohnstamm returned home to earn his masters degree in social work from Columbia University. After college, he moved to Portland to take a job at a local social services non-profit. Soon after arriving here, he made a visit to Timberline Lodge, where he was immediately taken with the beauty of the massive building. 

Richard Kohnstamm at Timberline in 1957 (Oregon Encyclopedia)

But Kohnstamm saw a tarnished jewel, as the lodge had quickly fallen into disrepair following its construction by the Works Progress Administration in 1937. The Forest Service had revoked the operating permit for the lodge and was looking for a new operator, and so began the Kohnstamm era at Timberline. By all accounts, he did, indeed, save the lodge. 

Kohnstamm soon teamed with John Mills to found the Friends of Timberline, a non-profit dedicated to preservation of the history, art and architecture of the remarkable building. The unique partnership between the Forest Service, Friends of Timberline and the RLK Company to preserve the lodge in perpetuity continues to this day, and is known as the Timberline Triumvirate. 

Today, the lodge continues to thrive, and summer resort operations have now expanded to include a controversial bike park centered on the Jeff Flood chairlift. After years of legal challenges, the RLK Company build miles of bicycle trails descending from main lodge to the base of the lift, where cyclists can load themselves and their bikes for a quick ride back to the top. 

The Timberline Resort’s new bike park opened this summer (photo: Timberline)

It’s a high-adrenaline activity made easy, with no hills to climb. But the development of this new attraction underscored the fact that the Timberline resort operators and Forest Service have done little over the decades to enhance the hiking experience around the lodge, despite plenty of demand. 

The reason is pretty obvious: hikers don’t buy lift tickets. Yes, some hikers help fill the hotel rooms in summer, and still more stop by to support the restaurants in the lodge, but filling ski lifts continues to the focus at Timberline.

Bikes riding the Jeff Flood lift back to the lodge (photo: Timberline)

Today, hikers at Timberline are limited to walking along the Timberline Trail or hiking the Mountaineer Trail, a semi-loop that climbs to a lift terminal, where it dead-ends at a dirt service road. Hikers usually follow the steep, dusty road back to lodge to complete a loop.

But perhaps the Richard L Kohnstamm Memorial Area could be inspiration for the Forest Service and RLK Company to bring new trails to the area, and a create a more welcoming trailhead for visitors who aren’t staying at the lodging or paying to ride the resort lifts? In that spirit, the following is a concept for a new trail that would be an instant classic on the mountain, rivaled only by the popular Cooper Spur Trail on Mount Hood’s north side for elevation and close-up looks into an active glacier.

Proposal: Kohnstamm Glacier View Trail

The proposed Glacier View Trail would climb the broad ridge that separates the White River and Salmon River canyons, just east of Timberline Lodge. The new trail would begin just across the Salmon River from the lodge, at a junction along the Timberline Trail, and end at Glacier View, a scenic high point on the ridge between the Palmer and White River glaciers. 

This viewpoint is already visited by a few intrepid explorers each year for its spectacular views into Mount Hood’s crater and the rugged crevasses of the White River Glacier. The schematic below shows how the new route would appear from Timberline Lodge:

(click image to enlarge)

Another perspective (below) of the proposed trail shows the route as it would appear from further east along the Timberline Trail, where it travels along the rim of White River canyon. This angle also shows the tumbling descent of the White River Glacier and the steep west wall of the canyon that would provide several overlooks from the new trail:

(click image to enlarge)

Thanks to the gentle, open terrain, the new trail would climb in broad, graded switchbacks, eventually reaching an elevation of 8,200 feet. This is just shy of the elevation of Cooper Spur, and would make the Kohnstamm Glacier View Trail the second-highest trail on the mountain.

The viewpoint at Glacier View (below) is already marked by a stone windbreak built by hikers that complements several handy boulders (below) to make this a fine spot for relaxing and taking in the view.

End of the trail at Glacier View (photo: Google)

From the Glacier View viewpoint, Mount Hood’s crater and the upper reaches of the White River Glacier (below) are surprisingly rugged and impressive, given the generally gentle terrain of Mount Hood’s south side. From this perspective, the Steel Cliffs and Crater Rock dominate the view as they tower over the glacier.

Mount Hood’s crater and the upper reach of the White River Glacier from Glacier View (photo: Google)
White River Glacier from Glacier View (photo: Google)

But the scene-stealer is the White River Glacier, which stair-steps down a series of icefalls directly in front of Glacier View (below), providing a close-up look into the workings of an active glacier. Lucky hikers might even hear the glacier occasionally moving from this close-up perspective as it grinds its way down the mountain.

Crevasses in the White River Glacier below Glacier View (photo: Google)

The view to the south from Glacier View (below) features the long, crevasse-fractured lower reaches of the White River Glacier, and below, the maze of sandy ravines which make up the sprawling White River Canyon. The deserts of Eastern Oregon are on the east (left) horizon from this perspective, and the Oregon Cascades spread out to the south.

The view down the White River Canyon from Glacier View (photo: Google)

The hike to Glacier View from Timberilne Lodge on the proposed Kohnstamm Trail would be about 2.5 miles long, climbing about 2,300 feet along the way, and would undoubtedly become a marquee hike on the mountain, if similar trails like Cooper Spur and McNeil Point are any gauge. But the backlog of trail needs at Timberline extend beyond having a marquee viewpoint hike like this. 

The Kohnstamm trail concept therefore includes other trail improvements in the Timberline area that would round out the trail system here. The following schematic (below) include building a new 1.4 mile trail from the upper stub of the Mountaineer Trail to Timberline Lodge, allowing hikers to complete the popular loop without walking the dusty, somewhat miserable service road below Silcox hut, often dodging resort vehicles along the way.

(click image to enlarge)

The broader Kohnstamm trail concept also calls for using the east parking area as a day-hiking hub in the summer months, with clearly marked trailheads that would consolidate the maze of confusing user trails that are increasingly carving up the wildflower meadows here. The new hub would also include restrooms, interpretive displays, picnic tables and other hiker amenities that would make for a better hiking experience.

Time for a makeover? Abandoned lift terminal at the proposed trail hub

A more ambitious element of the concept is to convert the neglected bones of an abandoned lodge structure (above) at the east parking area to become a hiker’s hut where visitors could relax after a hike, fill water bottles or learn about hiking options from Mount Hood’s volunteer trail ambassadors. 

This element might even tempt the Timberline resort operators to help make these trail concepts a reality if it offered an opportunity to provide concessions to hikers. After all, hiking is the fastest growing activity on the mountain (and on public lands), not skiing (or even mountain biking). Creating a hiking hub could be an opportunity for the Timberline operators to evolve their future vision for the resort to better match what people are coming to the mountain for.

What would it take?

Trail building is typically heavy work that involves clearing vegetation and building a smooth tread where rocks and roots are the rule. But the proposed Kohnstamm Trail would be very different, as the entire route is above the tree line and would be on the loose volcanic debris that makes up the smooth south side of Mount Hood. Trail building here would be much simpler, from the ease of surveying without trees and vegetation to get in the way, to actual trail construction in the soft soil surface. For these reasons, much of this work would be ideal for volunteers to help with.

In reality, the greatest obstacles to realizing this concept would likely be regulatory. Convincing the Forest Service to permit a new trail would be a tall hurdle, in itself. But if the Timberline resort operators were behind the idea, it would almost certainly be approved, especially if the resort embraced building and maintaining the trail hub improvements. Who knows, maybe they will even spot this article..?

Author’s Confessions…

As a postscript, I thought I’d post a few confessions from days of yore. I grew up in Portland and began skiing at Timberline Lodge as a tiny tot. I continued to avidly ski at the Mount Hood resorts for many years until giving up alpine skiing in the early 90s, largely in response to the expansion of the Meadows resort into lovely Heather Canyon, a deal-breaker for me. I loved the sport, but saw the beauty of the mountain under continual threat from the resort operations — and still do. Today, I make due with snow shoes and occasional trips on Nordic skis, though I do miss the thrill of alpine skiing!

The author skiing Timberline in 1978

An earlier awakening for me came in 1978, with the construction of the Palmer Lift at Timberline. This lift completed Richard Kohnstamm’s vision for year-round skiing on the mountain. But it was the first lift on Mount Hood to climb that far above the tree line, and was an immediate eyesore. Sadly, the conversion of the Palmer Glacier to become plowed rectangle of salted snow (see “Stop Salting the Palmer Glacier!”) that can be seen for miles completed the travesty.

That Palmer Lift debacle was soon followed by an even more egregious lift at Mount Bachelor, one that I wrote about 37 years ago in this (ahem!) riveting bit of self-righteous student journalism! (below)

(click image to enlarge)

When I stumbled across this old clipping from my days as a columnist at the Oregon State University student newspaper, I initially winced at the creative flourishes (…hey, I was 20 years old!). But my sentiments about these lifts — and the Heather Canyon lift at Meadows — remain unchanged. They were a step too far, and represented a real failure of the Forest Service to protect the mountain from over-development.

That said, I do believe the ski resorts can be managed in a more sustainable way that doesn’t harm the mountain. We’re certainly not there yet, and because all three of the major resorts (Timberline, Ski Bowl and Meadows) all sit on public land, I believe we all have a right to help determine that more sustainable future. 

In this article, I’ve made a case for accommodating more than just lift ticket purchasers in the recreation vision at Timberline Lodge. In future articles I’ll make the case for rounding out the mission for the other resorts in a way that meets the broader interests of those of us who own the land.

2019 Campaign Calendar!

00CoverWhaleCreek

Calendar cover for 2019 featuring Whale Creek

[Click here for a large image]

‘Tis the season for top ten lists and year-end retrospectives, so in that spirit my annual Mount Hood National Park Campaign Calendar is pretty good snapshot of 12 favorite spots of mine across WyEast country this year. Since 2004, I’ve created an annual calendar dedicated to the campaign, each with a fresh set of photos. If you’d like a 2019 calendar, there’s info at the bottom of the article and ALL proceeds will once again go to Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO).

________________

The annual campaign calendar has been a great motivator for exploring new terrain and improving my photography skills over the years. Each year the calendar project also renews my conviction that Mount Hood and the Gorge are uniquely special places, and deserve better care.

This article is a short tour of the 12 spots that made it into the 2019 calendar, with a few stories behind the photos and reflection on these increasingly fragile landscapes.

Starting with the cover image (at the top of the article), the calendar begins at lovely Whale Creek, a tributary of the Clackamas River that is also featured in the March image, so more about that spot in a moment.

Next up, the January image (below) captures the awesome west face of Mount Hood, where the Sandy Headwall towers 3,000 feet above the Sandy Glacier. This snowy view was captured from near Lolo Pass last winter.

01aLoloPassEastHood

January features the awesome Sandy Headwall

[Click here for a large image]

Not included in the close-up view are the bare slopes of Barrett Spur (below) and other alpine ramparts of Mount Hood that still didn’t have their winter snowpack in early February, when these photos were taken. While it’s not uncommon to have a late snowpack in the Cascades, these events are becoming more common as global warming unfolds in our own backyard.

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Low snow on Barrett Spur in February tells the story of our changing climate

For February, I chose a close-up perspective of the ice “pillows” that form at the base of Tamanawas Falls (below) in winter. This has become a very popular winter destination in recent years, thanks in large part to social media! (…ahem…)

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February features Tamanawas Falls

[Click here for a large image]

Tamanawas is Chinook jargon for “guiding spirit”, and is one version among a couple variations in spelling. More challenging is the pronunciation, and with the advent of social media, all manner of spoken variations are being used. For some reason, an especially popular spoken version that doesn’t even correlate to the actual spelling is “tah-ma-WAHN-us”.

It turns out the most accepted pronunciation is “ta-MAH-na-wahs”. I’ve been saying a slight variation of “ta-MAN-a-wahs” for most of my life, so I’ll need to work on that!

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Cold Spring Creek and Tamanawas Falls in winter

As mentioned earlier, the March calendar image is from Whale Creek (below), located in the heart of the Clackamas River canyon. The creek is hidden in plain sight, flowing through the Indian Henry Campground and next to the east trailhead of the Clackamas River Trail. This area features some of the finest rainforest in WyEast country.

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March features a rainforest scene along Whale Creek

[Click here for a large image]

Whale Creek was just one of many places in the Clackamas and Molalla River watersheds that I found myself exploring this year while much of the Oregon portion of the Columbia River Gorge was closed by the Eagle Creek fire. I visited the lower reaches of Whale Creek after seeing stunning photos of a string of waterfalls on the upper reaches of the creek, and quickly fell in love with this pretty stream. Watch for a future article on a trail concept I’ve been working on for Whale Creek with TKO and some area waterfall explorers.

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Whale Creek in the Clackamas River canyon

Sadly, the Clackamas River corridor has a bad reputation, thanks to a history of lawless behavior (the recent Pit Fire was started by illegal target shooting, for example) and a long history of Forest Service management that viewed the area more like a tree farm than a forest — and the two go hand in hand, by the way.

Yet, hidden in the now-recovering rainforests of the Clackamas are dozens of spectacular waterfalls, towering basalt walls and rugged vistas that rival the Columbia River Gorge in beauty. There are also a lot of big trees that somehow dodged the logging heyday of past decades.

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Whale Creek in winter

The Clackamas River corridor holds great promise for future recreation alternative to places like the Gorge, and the proven cure for lawless behavior is lawful recreation. I’m optimistic that we’ll make that transition here, and begin valuing places like Whale Creek for the intrinsic value of its forests, not just the saw logs it can produce.

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April features White River Falls State Park

[Click here for a large image]

For the April calendar image, I selected a photo of White River Falls, both for the contrast in WyEast country ecosystems it displays and because this little state park could use some love and expanded boundaries. I posted an article with just such a proposal a few years ago, you can find it over here.

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White River Falls with unprotected desert country beyond

The May calendar image features a sweeping view of the Upper Hood River Valley (below) from little known, seldom-noticed Middle Mountain. Its name tells the story, as forested Middle Mountain divides the upper and lower portions of the Hood River Valley. I learned of this spot about ten years ago from a local photographer and have gone back pretty much every year since.

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May features the Upper Hood River Valley as viewed from Middle Mountain

[Click here for a large image]

Zooming in a bit to this idyllic landscape reveals a seemingly timeless farm scene that is easy to take for granted. And yet, these farms were at great peril just a few years ago, when voters passed the deceptive Measure 37 in 2004. The law was pitched as a way for landowners to “seek compensation” for land use regulation, but in truth was just another end-run around Oregon’s protections for farm and forestlands.

Voters later passed Measure 49, in 2007, blunting the impact of the earlier measure, but only after hundreds of urban-scale developments were approved in rural areas across Oregon (including a pair of giant, illuminated billboards along the Mount Hood Highway that still remain today). It was a reminder that while our farms may look timeless, we can never take them for granted. They will always need our support and protection if we want places like this to exist for future generations.

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Timeless farm scene below Middle Mountain

Much of Middle Mountain is owned by the public, where county-owned forest lands continue to be (mis)managed as a cash register by Hood River County (the county likes to refer to these land as their “tree farm”). Local residents no doubt enjoy their modest tax rates, as a result, but I’m hoping the rapidly changing demographics in Hood River will bring a different mindset to how the thousands of acres of county forests that ring the Hood River Valley are managed.

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Logging is still king on Middle Mountain…

One immediate concern on Middle Mountain is the manner of logging. Large clear cuts, like those scarring the slopes of Middle Mountain, are an unsustainable practice, with proven harmful impacts to forest health, water quality and salmon and steelhead populations. Clear cuts are also the cheapest, easiest way to bring haul logs out of the forest. That bottom line might be unavoidable for private forests, but as a public agency, Hood River County should at least adopt a selective harvest policy that leaves standing trees in logged areas.

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…keeping Hood River County coffers full…

The county should also reject the reckless use of herbicides sprayed on logged over lands. This is a practice the private industry uses to shortcut the natural forest recovery and speed up the next harvest. The idea is to destroy the recovering forest understory in a logged area so that plantation seedlings might grow a little faster.

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The forest on the left is next to go…

I’m not certain the county uses this practice on public lands, but it seems to be the case. Consider this notice posted a few days ago on their website:

“Recreation trails are sometimes temporarily closed during additional forest management operations. Operations such as the burning of slash, herbicide application, and the planting of seedlings, will necessitate trail closures. Trails are re-opened once operations are complete.”

This certainly sounds like the private industry practice…

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…might as well add “for now” to the last line on this boundary marker, unfortunately.

Of course, the county could show real leadership and simply ban this practice on private lands in Hood River County, as well. That is, if water quality, wildlife, salmon and steelhead habitat, long-term forest health and tourism are a county priority over the fastest route to clear cutting more logs. My sense is that voters in Hood River County are increasingly focused on these broader concerns, even if the county leadership isn’t there yet.

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June features Shotgun Falls in the Molalla River canyon

[Click here for a large image]

For the June calendar image, I selected another lesser-known spot, graceful Shotgun Falls (above) in the Molalla River canyon. This pretty, off-trail waterfall has been on my list for some time, and the Gorge closure inspired me to finally make this trip last spring for a much-needed waterfall fix.

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Shotgun Falls

Shotgun Falls is a classic “Oregon” waterfall, cascading over a tall, mossy basalt cliff. The falls is a short creek walk from the Molalla River Road, but protected by a 20-foot barrier falls just downstream that requires a slippery scramble to navigate. It’s an increasingly popular off-trail trip, and the streambed is starting to show the wear and tear, making this a great candidate for a proper trail that families with young kids and hikers looking for an easy waterfall trip could enjoy. More to come on this idea..!

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Time for a real trail, here…

Sometimes a random moment burns a place and time in the forest into your memory. One such moment occurred on my trip to Shotgun Falls when my pack suddenly tipped while shooting photos from high above the falls. To my horror, it went bounding into the canyon, finally stopping just short of Shotgun Creek, about 60 feet below. Thankfully, my camera gear was safely zipped inside and I didn’t even end up with a soggy pack — the difference between a fond memory and forgettable one!

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Takes a licking, keeps on zipping!

The July calendar image features a picture-perfect wildflower scene along Cove Creek (below), located at the base of Barrett Spur in Elk Cove. This idyllic spot is kept open by a deep, lingering snowpack in spring and regular winter avalanches that shear off trees, allowing the alpine meadows to thrive.

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July features Cove Creek and Barrett Spur

[Click here for a large image]

Looking downstream along Cove Creek (below), 99 Ridge can be seen in the distance, covered with ghost trees killed by the 2012 Dollar Lake Fire. The fire reached the margins of Elk Cove, but passed over most of the forests here.

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The Dollar Lake Burn swept over 99 Ridge, in the background in this view of Cove Creek

On this trip to Elk Cove, I met a pair of hikers carrying their exhausted pup down the trail. When I chatted briefly with them, I was reminded that hikers are really nice people: they didn’t even know each other. The man carrying the dog had run into the woman as she struggled to carry her dog back to the trailhead. He offered to carry the poor pup the rest of the way!

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Hikers are nice people! (…see text…)

For the August calendar image, I selected a familiar view of Mount Hood from high on the shoulder of Cooper Spur (below). The Eliot Glacier dominates the view here, even as it recedes from global warming. As the glacier recedes, the exposed canyon floor once covered by ice has rapidly eroded, which in turn has  begun to destabilize the moraines that flank the canyon.

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August features the mighty Eliot Glacier

[Click here for a large image]

I experienced the hazards of the destabilized moraines firsthand when I stopped along the South Eliot Moraine that day and set my pack on a 4-foot long boulder that seemed to be the perfect trailside bench. Before I could park myself on the “bench”, it suddenly gave way, careening end-over-end into the Eliot Branch canyon, kicking off dozens of other rocks and an impressive dust storm along the way!

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The south Eliot Moraine continues to crumble…

Thankfully, there were no hikers below — and I was also relieved that I’d snapped up my pack before the boulder disappeared over the edge! Clearly, my pack has nine lives… though I’m not sure how many remain…

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Seeing the boulder finally land among the jumbled rocks 300 feet below was powerful reminder of the scale of this place, as the 4-foot “bench” rock was dwarfed by dozens of larger boulders scattered below the moraine.

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A 4-foot boulder becomes a pebble among the debris rolling into the Eliot Branch canyon

The September calendar image captures fall colors along Still Creek, on Mount Hood’s southwest side. This photo was taken on a visit to a recent Forest Service project designed to restore salmon and steelhead habitat on Still Creek.

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September features a grove of Red Alder along Still Creek wrapped in brilliant Vine Maple foliage

[Click here for a large image]

The project site was a badly overused “dispersed” campsite that had become an eyesore over the years. To rehabilitate the site, the Forest Service excavated a large trench to block vehicle access to the streamside campsite, reinforced the barrier with a row of boulders. So far, these barriers seems to be working, as there were no signs of continued camping or off-road vehicle use in the area.

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Forest Service stream restoration work on Still Creek

At the heart of the restoration project, several very large logs with root wads attached (below) were hauled into the stream to create the natural “woody debris” habitat that our native salmon and steelhead rely upon. The logs and roots create deep pools and places for small fish to hide from predation as they mature to adulthood.

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Bringing back logs and root wads that create prime fish habitat

There’s something primeval about uprooted trees lying across the creek. This is what most of our streams looked like before the settlement era, when forests were logged, streams were tamed and few big trees were left to become “woody debris”. The panorama below shows the full extend of this Forest Service restoration project.

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Panoramic view of the restoration site

[Click here for a large image]

On a select few days each fall, the first high elevation snow of the season is followed by a few days of bright, clear weather — and with any luck, all of this coincides with fall colors. Such was the case in the calendar image I selected for October (below), with Mount Hood framed by flaming Vine Maple, as viewed from the Lolo Pass area.

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October features an early snow on Mount Hood, framed by Vine Maples

[Click here for a large image]

Whenever I shoot this scene, an image of a scalloped-edge vintage postcard is in my mind. Thanks to many postcards from the 1940s, 50s and 60s that captured this side of the mountain in autumn, the scene is iconic. This card (below) from the 1950s is typical of the era, and was captured just around the corner from where I shot the 2019 calendar image.

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Timeless inspiration, with fancy scalloped edges!

For the November calendar image, I selected a rainforest scene from along the Molalla River (below), where bare winter trees reveal the contorted, mossy limbs of Bigleaf and Vine Maple.

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November features a pristine rainforest scene along the Molalla River

[Click here for a large image]

While the above certainly scene looks pristine, it’s really not. One of my favorite photographic themes is to capture “pristine” scenery in places that are not — but could be, if managed with an eye toward restoration. Such was the case with the previous photo from Lolo Pass, where transmission towers were literally buzzing overhead, and with the Molalla River, where a road culvert dumped the little stream in the photo from a 4-foot galvanized pipe.

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…which turns out to not be all that pristine..!

Beauty can be found everywhere, and the path to restoration in even the most impacted areas in WyEast country begins when we see places not just for what they once were, but for what they could be, again.

The December calendar image is a freezing fog scene from the east slopes of Mount Defiance (below). This stunning phenomenon occurs a few times each winter when temperature inversions blanket the eastern Columbia River Gorge with dense fog and frigid temperatures. The effect is magical, though traveling the roads in these conditions can be treacherous!

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December features a crystal wonderland from freezing fog on the slopes of Mount Defiance

[Click here for a large image]

The frosting of ice coating the forest in these scenes is called “soft rime”, and is made up of feathery, fragile crystals that can be brushed off like a fine powder. Soft rime forms when super-cooled vapor in fog accumulates directly on tree surfaces in delicate, elaborate crystals. Hard rime is defined as ice forming from freezing fog that first condenses to water droplets, then freezes on surfaces, creating a clear, hardened ice layer.

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Freezing fog on Mount Defiance

Soft rime accumulations can be quite impressive in the Gorge, depending on how long the fog event lasts. These scenes were captured after five days of freezing fog and represent about the maximum amount of ice that can accumulate before crystals break off under their own weight.

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Freezing fog on Mount Defiance

This photo (below) is a close-up of soft rime accumulations on a Golden Chinkapin growing on the slopes of Mount Defiance. These crystals as much as three inches long.

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Soft rime ice crystals

The scene below shows an odd transition from bare road (and car) to frosted forest that looks like a photoshop creation. In this spot the rime had coated the trees and understory, but not the gravel road in the foreground, creating the strange two-tone scene. This photo is also a bit of a farewell, as my venerable trail car of the past many years years is featured. This old friend was retired to quiet a life in the city just a few months after this photo was taken, at the ripe old age of 13 years and 212,000 miles!

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Farewell to an old friend…

The back page of the 2019 calendar features nine wildflower images from the past year. If you’ve followed articles on the blog, you’ll recognize a several photos featured in stories on Horkelia Meadow and Punchbowl Falls.

From top left and reading across, these flowers are Hackelia micrantha (Horkelia Meadow), Chocolate Lily (Punchbowl Falls Park), Oregon Iris (Shellburg Falls), Buckwheat (Horkelia Meadow), Calypso Orchid (Punchbowl Falls Park), Oregon Grape (Molalla River), Horkelia fusca (Horkelia Meadow), Collomia grandiflora (Clackamas River) and Skyrocket Gilia (Horkelia Meadow).

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A year in wildflowers!

[Click here for a large image]

So, that’s it for the 2019 campaign calendar! I’ve already started colleting images for next year’s calendar and I’m looking forward to yet another year of exploring all corners of America’s next national park. Maybe I’ll even see you out on the trail!

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Old goat that wandered up a creek…

In the meantime, you can order the 2019 calendar over at Zazzle. They’re beautifully printed, oversized designs with functional writing space — they’re working calendars and make great gifts! The calendars sell for $29.95, but Zazzle regularly offers deep discounts, so it’s worth watching for sales. This year, all proceeds from calendars will go to Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO).

You can order a 2019 campaign calendar here

Thanks for reading this far, and I hope you’re able to get out and explore Mount Hood and the Gorge over the holidays!

_______________

Tom Kloster  •  December 2019

Dollar Lake Fire: Five Years After

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The Dollar Lake Fire from Bald Butte in August 2011

In 2006, the Bluegrass Fire raced along Bluegrass Ridge, torching the subalpine forests above Elk Meadows on Mount Hood’s east flank. In 2008, the Gnarl Fire burned a much larger swath of the east slope, from just above Elk Meadows to the Eliot Branch canyon, nearly destroying century-old Cloud Cap Inn, Snowshoe Lodge and the historic structures at nearby Tilly Jane Campground. Heroic efforts by Forest Service firefighters spared these priceless jewels of Mount Hood’s history, with the fire burning within a few yards of these old structures.

In August 2011, the Dollar Lake Fire was the third in a string of major fires that would ravage the slopes of Mount Hood in a period of just five years, this time burning the north slopes of the mountain. Lightning started the Dollar Fire started on a weekend, just below the popular Elk Cove trail and was immediately reported by hikers in the area.

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The Dollar Lake Fire burning below Elk Cove

The Dollar Fire soon erupted to become one of the most fiercely fought and carefully documented fires in recent memory as it swept to the west, eventually threatening Bonneville Power Administration transmission lines at Lolo Pass and the nearby Bull Run Watershed, source of Portland’s drinking water.

The fire wasn’t fully contained until the end of September of that year, eventually burning more than 6,200 acres of forest (maps and photos of the fire can still be viewed on the InciWeb interagency website).

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Flare-up in the Dollar Lake Fire in August 2011

Firefighting efforts were initially slow to arrive at the Dollar Fire, and some (including the media and members of Oregon’s Congressional delegation) accused the Forest Service of purposely allowing the fire to grow because it was inside the Mount Hood Wilderness where it didn’t threaten areas open to commercial logging. But a subsequent investigation pointed to overstretched firefighting resources, a growing problem as the federal land agencies struggle to fund the spiraling forest fire phenomena across the west.

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Location of the Dollar Lake and Gnarl fires

 [click here for a large map]

By the time fall rains arrived, the fire had burned almost the entire north slope of Mount Hood, a 5-mile swath stretching from the Eliot Branch on the east to Cathedral Ridge on the west. Almost all of the burn was subalpine Noble fir forest, though a few old-growth mountain hemlock stands along the Timberline Trail were burned at Elk Cove and Cairn Basin.

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Timeline and extent of the Dollar Lake fire

[click here for a large map]

The eastern extent of the Dollar Burn contained large stands of Western larch, a fire forest species adapted to frequent, low intensity fires. Most of these trees did not appear to survive the fire, however, due to its extreme heat and intensity.

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Ground zero for the Dollar Lake fire is the foreground in these views from the Elk Cove Trail taken before the burn and five years after the fire

 [click here for a large map]

In fact, very few trees survived the fire except along its margins, where a beneficial mosaic burn pattern left standing trees and some undergrowth to help begin the recovery phase. This is the new reality facing our forests, as a century of fire suppression continues to fuel catastrophic fires that completely destroy forest on a massive scale.

Summer 2012: Immediate Aftermath

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Total destruction along Vista Ridge in 2012

The dense network of trails that cross through the Dollar Burn provide a front-row seat to how (and if) our forests recover from catastrophic fires inside a protected wilderness, without human intervention. In the immediate aftermath of the Dollar Fire, the picture was bleak. In the heart of the burn, the forest kill was nearly complete, as even the duff layer on the forest floor was burned away, exposing a thin layer of volcanic soils vulnerable to erosion.

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Blackened trees in 2012, before scorched bark began to peel away

One of the first lessons of the fire was the importance of tree debris in stabilizing the unprotected soil. The living trees in this forest weren’t burned so much as boiled alive as their living cambium layer was superheated beneath their bark. The surprising result in the first season after the fire was scorched bark peeling away to reveal untouched wood underneath.

The piles of peeled bark provided an immediate layer of mulch over the exposed soil, with smaller twigs and limbs also helping to form the beginnings of a new duff layer on the burnt soil.

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Trees inside the burn shed their scorched bark in the first year, helping stabilize exposed soils

The roots of some understory plants in the worst of the burn zone also survived the fire, including huckleberry, beargrass and avalanche lilies. Two years after the fire, seeds blown into the burn began to establish, and the recovery was underway in surprisingly short order. Read more about the initial recovery in this 2012 WyEast Blog article.

2016: Five Years of Recovery

This year marks the five-year anniversary of the fire, and the recovery within the Dollar Burn is in full swing, though it will take a century or more for the area to fully recover – more on that in a moment.

How does the Dollar Burn of today compare to the first summer after the fire? As the July scenes along the Vista Ridge Trail (below) show, the understory is recovering rapidly.

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Comparison of the recovery along the Vista Ridge Trail in 2012 and 2016

In 2012, avalanche lilies sprung from bulbs spared by the heat of the fire, creating striking stripes of white blossoms and bright green foliage where these plants survived. A few beargrass (a close relative of the lily family) also survived, thanks to deep underground roots that escaped the fire. A few scattered huckleberry and other understory shrubs also sprouted from surviving roots in the first summer after the fire.

In recent years, the beargrass and avalanche lily display in the Dollar Burn has become a spectacular attraction for early season hikers on the Vista Rigde Trail as these fire survivors continue flourish and spread in the bright new conditions. Other shrubby survivors, like huckleberry, have also continued to recover, thriving in the bright new conditions created by the fire.

But the story in the last few years of the recovery has been the arrival of new plants in the burn zone, blown in by seed or deposited by wildlife. These include more understory species, but also the first few conifers to take root.

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This trailside log was a favorite resting spot for hikers on the Vista Ridge Trail before the Dollar Fire. Since the fire, hikers still rest here and have begun to polish away the charred surface along the top of the log – presumably with a charcoal backside as their souvenir!

After five years, most of the scorched bark has fallen from the torched trees, and the trunks underneath have bleached from their initial golden shades of newly exposed wood to weathered silver and gray shades of a “ghost forest”.

The standing ghost trees still retain a surprising number of their limbs, and perhaps more surprising, very few have toppled in the five years since the fire. This is testament to the fact that the core of these trees didn’t burn. Most will stand for decades before insects and decay finally bring them down.

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These felled Noble fir along Vista Ridge Trail reveal a forest that was more than 300 years old before the fire

A few trees in the burn zone were cut by firefighters in an attempt to create fire lines. Today, these cut stumps provide a look at the age of this forest. While the trees in the Dollar Burn aren’t particularly large by Pacific Northwest standards, they were actually quite old. The cut tree shown above was more than 300 years old and stump below is from a tree that had grown on Vista Ridge for 360 years!

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This ancient Noble fir was 360 years old when it succumbed to the catastrophic Dollar Lake fire

The extreme weather conditions and thin soils make for a hard life for subalpine trees, stunting their relative size compared to lower-elevation forests.

The relatively modest size of these trees compared to their impressive age is another reminder of the vulnerability of our subalpine Noble fir forests that are still being logged commercially. While they continue to be “harvested” in unprotected areas under the premise of sustainability, these trees take centuries to reach a size worthy of commercial cutting, making the “harvest” more like mining than tree farming.

The Pioneers

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Fireweed is the rock star of the pioneer plants species in the burn zone

The understory in the Dollar Burn is noticeably greener just five years after the fire, and a closer look reveals a handful of plant species doing the heavy lifting at this stage in the forest recovery. At the top of the list of pioneer species is fireweed, (described here in the previous article in this blog).

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Fireweed crowding the Vista Ridge Trail in 2016

True to its name, fireweed has evolved to be the first in line to resettle burned or disturbed areas. These plants produce massive quantities of winged seeds that can quickly reach very large areas. They are also hardy perennials with large root systems, so also play an important role in stabilizing exposed soil.

In the Dollar Burn, fireweed has already colonized large areas, creating a spectacular flower displays from mid-summer through fall.

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Showy blooms of Fireweed in late summer on Vista Ridge

Look between the drifts of fireweed and you’ll find other pioneers taking root. One surprising species is the diminutive wild dwarf bramble (sometimes called wild strawberry for its resemblance of its runners and leaves to domestic strawberries). These tiny plants are now found throughout the burn, threading through piles of bark and limbs.

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Wild dwarf bramble growing over charred bark along the Vista Ridge Trail

Huckleberries also continue their comeback, mostly from the surviving roots of established plants that grew before the fire but also as seedlings. In a few spots, the understory was not completely destroyed, and in these areas huckleberry is responding strongly to the bright conditions with abundant berry production.

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Huckleberry seedlings emerging on Vista Ridge

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Huckleberry seedlings growing from the base of a burned snag on Vista Ridge

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Huckleberries that survived the fire are producing abundant berry crops in the suddenly sunny environment in the Dollar Burn

Though they were among the few understory survivors, the recovery of beargrass has been more gradual than expected. Most plants seem to be growing from roots that survived the fire, though the first big bloom of these survivors (and the seeds they produced) only arrived over the past two years.

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Beargrass emerging from surviving roots are just beginning to produce blooms within the burn zone

Clumping grasses have also arrived throughout the burn, as well as the occasional rush in moist, protected pockets.

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Rush growing in a moist hollow on Vista Ridge

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Clumping grasses are taking root in some of the driest areas of the Dollar Burn

Elderberry is among the few woody understory pioneers to arrive in this stage of the Dollar Burn recovery. These plants are scattered widely, growing in less burned areas, and may also be growing from surviving roots.

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This young Elderberry shrub is just getting started in the burn zone in 2016

Conifers are just getting started five years after the Dollar Fire. Almost all of the conifer seedlings at this point in the recovery are Mountain hemlock and Noble fir, the dominant evergreens in Mount Hood’s subalpine forests.

By counting branch tiers, a few young trees as old as four years can be found, but most are one or two year-old seedlings. But if you look closely, there are also many seedlings that have not survived the harsh summers in the burn zone, where there is little shade and the sandy mountain soils are extremely dry by the time rain reappears in the fall.

This is the sorting process at work, where only a few seedlings will survive winter cold, summer heat and competition from understory plants to someday become part of the new forest canopy.

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Young Mountain hemlock in the Dollar Burn in 2016

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Three-year old Noble Fir in the Dollar Burn in 2016

Though most of the Dollar Fire was an overheated catastrophe for the forest, killing almost everything, there are a few spots where the fire cooled and burned in a “mosaic” pattern, leaving a few surviving trees and much of the understory.

These areas are lush islands of life just five years after the fire, underscoring their importance in the recovery and why cooler mosaic burns can be beneficial to the long-term health of a forest. Pioneer species are much more abundant in heavily burned areas that are immediately adjacent to these surviving patches than in other parts of the burn, as plants quickly spread from these islands of green.

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Island of green where the Dollar Lake Fire spared a section of forest that now serves as a nursery for regenerating the burn zone

While the Dollar Burn is recovering at nature’s pace, without human intervention, the Forest Service has given the nearby Gnarl Burn section along Cloud Cap Road a recovery boost by planting conifer seedlings. These trees were planting in 2010, about a year before the Dollar Lake Fire and following commercial removal of burned trees along the historic road.

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Planted conifers in the Gnarl Burn along Cloud Cap Road in 2016

Today, these trees are thriving, and the main effect of replanting is the diversity of species, including lodgepole pine, western larch, Western white pine, Englemann Spruce and even whitebark pine at higher elevations. Noble fir and mountain hemlock do not seem to have been part of the replanting, perhaps because these species are the most likely to recover without human intervention.

The Long View?

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Hazard tree warning at the Vista Ridge trailhead

Hikers on the north side of Mount Hood will continue to have a front-row seat to the forest recovery in the Dollar Burn. Already, there are some surprising lessons.

First, the main victims of blowdown since the fire have often been the few trees that survived the fire intact. This is because of the sudden exposure of their canopy to winter winds and snow loads, and is a surprising blow to the forest recovery these trees would otherwise be helping to seed the burn zone.

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Toppled surviving Noble fir in the burn zone in 2016

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A surviving canopy becomes a liability in a burned forest, as surviving trees along Vista Ridge were tipped by winter storms in 2016

The Dollar Burn generally stayed well below timberline (and the Timberline Trail), leaving most of the alpine zone intact. But where the fire did burn into places like Elk Cove, Eden Park and Cairn Basin, we will also have an opportunity to watch how alpine ecosystems react to fire.

Some of Mount Hood’s most ancient forests grow in this zone, and have presumably survived because they are somewhat isolated from lower-elevation forests and often grow in moister conditions where snowpack is greater and summer days are cooler. But the forest could take centuries to recover in these areas, impacting the many species of plants and wildlife that live exclusively at this elevation.

dollarfirefiveyears32

It could take centuries for this high-elevation forest of Mountain hemlock and Whitebark pine on Vista Ridge to recover from the fire

In human terms, it’s hard to see forest fire cycles in perspective, but in the case of the Dollar Burn, we have the benefit of early photographs from the area. Forest surveys show that the Red Hill area on the north edge of the Mount Hood Wilderness burned in the early 1900s, and were barely recovering by the 1950s (see below).

dollarfirefiveyears33

The view from Owl Point in 1952 and 2016 shows the cycle of fire on Mount Hood’s north slope over the past century (top photo courtesy Hood River History Museum)

[Click here for a larger version]

Today, the forest in this northern edge of the wilderness has substantially recovered after a century of regrowth, and now the view is reversed: the silvery ghost forests of the Dollar Fire now mark the once-green slopes of Mount Hood as viewed from Owl Point, while green forests and beargrass meadows cover the former Red Hill burn in the foreground.

dollarfirefiveyears34

Looking down on the Dollar Burn and Owl Point in the distance from the Timberline Trail in 2016

So far, so good, but the larger question in an era of climate change is whether our forests will continue to recover from catastrophic fire – or logging – in the way that we have always assumed they will.

As the recovery unfolds in the Dollar Lake, Gnarl and Blue Ridge burns on Mount Hood we’ll learn how resilient our forests really are, and hopefully make better decisions in protecting them for the benefit of future generations.

WyEast Roundup!

Lots going on as we enter 2016 in WyEast country, so this article is a bit of a roundup, beginning with yet another commemorative nod from our federal government in the form of…

Columbia River Gorge Priority Mail Express Stamp!

WyEastRoundup01Stamp01

On December 30, 2015 the U.S. Postal Service released another stamp celebrating the Columbia River Gorge, joining the 1992 USPS postcard of the same, classic scene of Crown Point as viewed from Chanticleer Point (Women’s Forum Park).

WyEastRoundup01Stamp02

While the 1992 commemorative card was an affordable $0.19, the new Gorge stamp is a hefty $22.95, making for a steep addition to stamp collections! This new Priority Mail Express stamp is available in panes of 10 (for a mere $229.50!), and in the words of the Postal Service, the new stamp “celebrates the grandeur of the Columbia River Gorge” with the following:

Approximately 80 miles long and up to 4,000 ft. deep, the gorge runs along the Columbia River to form part of the border between Oregon and Washington. The stamp art captures the beauty of the Columbia River as it winds its way through the steep cliffs of the Cascade Mountain Range. The historic Vista House sitting atop Crown Point and overlooking the river 725 ft. below shimmers in the golden light of the setting sun.

Illustrator Dan Cosgrove of Chicago worked under the direction of Phil Jordan of Falls Church, VA, to create the stamp image.

The artists captured a faithful rendering of the scene, but I can’t help but wonder why a local illustrator wasn’t selected? After all, the Portland region is home to so many, including Paul A. Lanquist (PAL), the creative force behind dozens of “new retro” posters of Pacific Northwest scenes, like this view of Vista House:

Courtesy: Discover the Northwest

Courtesy: Discover the Northwest

So, save your money on that spendy USPS stamp and consider supporting a Northwest artist, instead. You can find Paul Lanquist’s posters at Discover the Northwest and many other outlets.

Still Creek Trails

As part of a recent series of articles on the Mirror Lake backcountry and Wind Creek Basin, I proposed the following concept for eventually expanding trails in this pocket wilderness:

WyEastRoundup02StillCreek01

(click here for large map)

After posting these articles, I happened to be researching the area for a related topic and was surprised to find many of my “proposed” trails on early maps. I’m going to chalk that up as “imitation being the sincerest form of flattery” as I’m sure I’ve studied these maps before, and must have noticed these earlier trails! Or so it would seem?

Nonetheless, it was a pleasant (re)surprise to discover that we once had a hefty trail network here, as it helps make the case for bringing more trails in this area to reality someday. Past is prologue! And who knows, maybe some of these old treads still survive?

WyEastRoundup02StillCreek02

(click here for large map)

A closer look at the 1937 forest map (above, marked with red arrows) reveals a rim trail that followed the north side of Still Creek valley from Camp Creek to – what’s that? – a trail between Still Creek and Mirror Lake!

These old trails show up on a more “official” 1939 forest map (below), with added detail showing the connector to Still Creek continuing south to (what still exists today as) the Eureka Peak trail. This explains what has always been an odd trail fragment at Eureka Peak and raises the intriguing question of whether the segment north of Still Creek to Wind Lake and beyond still exists?

WyEastRoundup02StillCreek03

(click here for large map)

These old routes persist on forest maps dating into the late 1940s, when the commercial logging assault on our forests began wiping out hundreds of miles of old trails (below).

WyEastRoundup02StillCreek04

(click here for large map)

But Mirror Lake, the Wind Creek Basin and Still Creek valley were still recovering from the catastrophic Sherar Burn when the logging bonanza took off in the mid-1900s, and were mostly spared from clear cutting and logging roads. That not only gave today’s pocket wilderness, but it also bodes well for traces of these old trails to still survive – and someday be rediscovered and restored, perhaps?

Eliot Crossing Update

Lots of news on the Eliot Crossing proposal, first described in this WyEast Blog article from 2014. As reported earlier, the Forest Service is moving a trail project forward this year that will finally restore the missing section of the Timberline Trail at the Eliot Branch crossing.

The following map originally appeared in this blog, but later became a Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO) map for the purpose of the Eliot Crossing project, and now is being shared with the Forest Service, as well:

WyEastRoundup03EliotCrossing

(click here for large map)

In January, Claire Pitner, Forest Service project manager for the new trail at the Hood River Ranger District, sent this good news to local non-profits involved in the project:

“I wanted to let you know that the environmental analysis for the Eliot Reroute was signed yesterday. Furthermore, earlier this week we received word that the Regional Office is providing funding to complete the project. Much of the work will be done using a contractor with volunteer assistance as well.

“We are working on finalizing the contract package in hopes of having a contractor long before we are able to access and do work at the site. I’m looking forward to working with TrailKeepers to get some good work done this summer!”

By early February, the local media picked up on the story with (surprise!) mentions of the WyEast Blog in The Oregonian and Willamette Week – a nice plug for the blog and the Eliot Crossing project!

In early March, the TKO board will be meeting with the Forest Service and several other non-profit organizations to begin planning volunteer activities related to the project. It should be a fun, family-friendly opportunity for volunteers to be part of the project, and I’ll post updates on the project as more details become available.

LG TV Mystery Mountain Ad

I’ll end the roundup on a whimsical note, courtesy LG, the electronics giant. I spotted the following print ad over the holidays and something about it looked too familiar – as it should have. This is our very own Trillium Lake…

Do not attempt to adjust your television…

Do not attempt to adjust your television…

…except it isn’t, unless you’re looking in the rear-view mirror of your kayak (or canoe). A closer look at the mountain (below) shows all the major features of WyEast reversed, with a misplaced White River glacier flowing down the southwest slope of the mountain (imagine the mayhem in Rhododendron!), and poor Illumination Rock and Mississippi Head rudely moved to the east side of the mountain:

This looks vaguely familiar…

This looks vaguely familiar…

But the really goofy part of this ad is the appearance of what seems to be an Italian (Burano?) or perhaps Icelandic fishing village teleported to the Oregon Cascades:

Preview of a future Forest Service concession..?

Preview of a future Forest Service concession..?

As always, it’s good to see our mountain (and Gorge) making regular appearances in print media from around the world, even if the graphic artists can’t resist making a few improvements. Even with the artistic tinkering, these ads underscore the world-class nature of these amazing places… and their national park-worthiness, of course!

Good News from the Hood River RD!

The Eliot Branch and Mount Hood

The Eliot Branch and Mount Hood

A few weeks ago the Forest Service contacted me about a recent article posted on this blog, It’s Time to Fix the Eliot Crossing!

The article proposed some simple solutions for restoring a washed-out section of the Timberline Trail at the Eliot Branch, which has been offically closed for nearly a decade, and is quite dangerous for those who choose to ignore the closure signs.

The article critiqued Forest Service inaction on the problem, and especially the agency obsession with the “million dollar bridge” solution of somehow installing a supension bridge over the disintegrating canyon of the Eliot Branch. This stream is the unruly outflow from the Mount Hood’s Eliot Glacier, largest of the mountain’s glaciers.

Crossing the Eliot Branch in better days on the old footbridge

Crossing the Eliot Branch in better days on the old footbridge

The proposed susppension bridge would have been prohibitively expensive, and had little chance of ever being funded. Worse, any bridge built here stands a very good chance of being destroyed: the steady retreat of the Eliot Glacier will continue to unravel the canyon below for the foreseeable future as the Eliot Branch carves into new ground once covered by glacial ice.

Because of the critical nature of the article, I expected some grief from the Forest Service. Instead, I learned the Hood River Ranger District has now scrapped its “million dollar bridge” solution and is pursuing a simpler downstream crossing, very similar to what was proposed in the blog article. That’s great news!

The Hood River District staff invited me to meet with them and have a look at their new proposal, so I sat down with one of their Forest Service planners in late December to hear the details. The following are highlights from that conversation.

While they are still in the very early stages of laying out a route, the following map shows the general corridor (in green) the Forest Service has scouted for a “low trail” solution, compared to the new trail concept proposed in the earlier blog article (dashed red):

EliotCrossingRedux03

(Click here for a larger version)

The conceptual Forest Service route would descend the east wall of the Eliot Branch canyon in a series of short switchbacks, just upstream from the ravine where the route was proposed in the blog article.

Once across the Eliot Branch, the Forest Service route would traverse along the ridge that forms the west wall of the canyon, while the route proposed in the blog article followed a tributary stream up a ravine that leads to the Timberline Trail. The Forest Service route is a bit shorter, at 1.2 miles, but follows the same “keep it simple” principles laid out in the blog article.

The Eliot Branch in the vicinity of the proposed crossing (photo © Tim Burke)

The Eliot Branch in the vicinity of the proposed crossing (photo © Tim Burke)

Here’s the best news: the Forest Service hopes to have the new trail under construction in 1-2 years, and have already begun scouting possible alignments. Even better, they hope to involve volunteers in some aspect of the construction, and have reached out to Trailkeepers of Oregon (TKO) to begin that conversation (note: the author is also active in TKO).

This has been a long time coming, and kudos are in order for the Hood River Ranger District for getting this project unstuck — and especially for new staff at the Hood River office who have been instrumental in putting the “million dollar bridge” fiasco behind us. While much more work lies ahead for this project to become a reality, it’s a promising change of direction and a new level of commitment from Forest Service to finally fix this problem.

I’ll post updates on the project here over the next couple of years as the details come into view, of course!

A Mea Culpa is in Order…

When I arrived at the Hood River Ranger District last December for the Timberline Trail meeting, I was surprised to see that the visitor facilities had been dramatically upgraded! This was to my chagrin, as I had lamented the need to do so in this blog article in early 2014. It turns out that the finishing touches to the remodeled Hood River offices were being made at about the time I posted those comments here, so a mea culpa is in order!

Like me, you probably won’t notice the changes to the Hood River Ranger Station when driving by on the Mount Hood Loop Highway, as the public face of the building has been redesigned to face south, not toward the highway to the east. In fact, the building looks much the same from the highway to the casual eye — though an addition to the main building, new signage and an outbuilding have been constructed in what was once a very large parking lot (see below).

Before and after highway views of the ranger station

Before and after highway views of the ranger station

Before and after views of the ranger station

Before and after views of the ranger station

The new orientation makes perfect sense when you stand in front of the building, however. A picturesque view of Mount Hood rising above orchards fills the scene — a view echoed and embraced by the pyramid-shaped wall of windows that define the new visitor center.

Mount Hood fills the southern horizon

Mount Hood fills the southern horizon

The revamped building exterior has ADA-compliant parking and ramps, a small plaza, updated informational sign kiosk, carved welcome sign, bike rack and a new pit toilet. The latter is a much-needed addition that is less elegant than the flush toilets provided at the new Zigzag Ranger Station, but still a nice step forward.

This carved sign welcomes visitors to the new facility

This carved sign welcomes visitors to the new facility

The new visitors center is ADA accessible

The new visitors center is ADA accessible

Once inside the new visitors center, you will find a main desk staffed by a Forest Service ranger, and a nice mix of interpretive displays, ranging from historical artifacts to a collection of mounted wildlife specimens found in the Mount Hood region. The center also has a very good selection of field guides and maps for sale, in addition to many free USFS informational materials.

A nice touch inside the building is a terrestrial telescope mounted on a tripod in front of one of the large picture windows, allowing visitors to take a closer look at the mountain that looms above the ranger station.

Interior panorama of the visitors center (note telescope on the left)

Interior panorama of the visitors center (note telescope on the left)

Rangers staff the new front desk at the visitors center

Rangers staff the new front desk at the visitors center

Watch out… bears lurk behind posts in the new facility!

Watch out… bears lurk behind posts in the new facility!

The wildlife specimens will be fun and informative for families visiting the center, as kids are universally drawn to animal displays. Each mounted display has a detailed info card to help parents become instant experts on the different species represented, or for older kids (and adults) to simply browse and learn from.

Owls on display at the front desk

Owls on display at the front desk

Guard raccoon is on duty 24/7…

Guard raccoon is on duty 24/7…

A particularly menacing bobcat is on display!

A particularly menacing bobcat is on display!

This Pine Marten is in charge of the Bull Trout bumper stickers…

This Pine Marten is in charge of the Bull Trout bumper stickers…

Black bear roaming near the front desk

Black bear roaming near the front desk

The bookstore is located at the west end of the visitor center and creatively designed as a rolling, self-contained portable display. The book offerings are excellent, including many of the most popular regional hiking, climbing, skiing and snowshoeing guides, plus field guides to area flora, fauna and history. Posters and coffee-table books celebrating Mount Hood are also featured.

The rolling bookstore has an excellent cross-section of materials

The rolling bookstore has an excellent cross-section of materials

The map offerings in the rolling bookstore are also excellent, including USFS maps for most National Forests in Oregon and Washington, and official Forest Service maps for wilderness areas in the more immediate Mount Hood region.

The map selection also includes several independently published trail and ski maps, including the exceptional National Geographic Trails Illustrated series for Mount Hood and the Gorge and maps for the Pacific Crest Trail. There are even Green Trails topographic maps for the Mount Hood region (below).

Green Trails topographic maps for sale

Green Trails topographic maps for sale

Historical interpretation is somewhat more limited at the new center, anchored by a fine carved sign (presumably Works Progress Administration or Civilian Conservation Corps?) that once stood at the Cloud Cap junction on the old loop highway. The impressive old sign is flanked with captioned photos of north side history on the mountain.

History displays at the west end of the new facility

History displays at the west end of the new facility

Historic Tilly Jane sign anchoring the history displays

Historic Tilly Jane sign anchoring the history displays

A mounted poster from the Mount Hood Scenic Byway series provides a bit more history of the Cloud Cap Inn and the early climbing history of the north side.

Hopefully, new displays will be added over time to explore more of the rich history of the upper Hood River Valley and north side of Mount Hood: the long Native American history in the area, settlement of the upper Hood River Valley in the 1800s, early Forest Service history on Mount Hood and completion of the Mount Hood Loop Highway in the 1920s are just some of the stories that deserve to be told here.

Mount Hood Scenic Byway history poster

Mount Hood Scenic Byway history poster

There are still some gaps in the visitor experience at the revamped ranger station that could use some attention. First, heavy landscaping hides the Ranger Station from southbound highway traffic (which is how most visitors travel to the mountain), and the signage along the highway is easy to miss. Adding a simple “Visitors Center” sign to the existing entrance marker would be helpful.

Second, the visitor center hours posted at the door differ from what appears on the official Mount Hood Forest website. At least two variations appear on the website, depending where Google takes you: the main website listing shows a M-F schedule, while the dedicated Hood River Ranger District page includes Saturdays in the daily schedule.

The new center elegantly packs a lot into a modest space

The new center elegantly packs a lot into a modest space

The signs at the main entrance to the Ranger Station split the difference, showing M-F hours, but extending to include Saturdays from Memorial Day through Labor Day. In all of these variations, the actual hours are the same: from 8:00 AM to 4:30 PM, closed on all federal holidays.

Obviously, Saturday operating hours are at a premium, both for the Forest Service in covering their expense of keeping the building open, but also for visitors, who are more likely to be traveling here on weekends than weekdays.

Hopefully, the agency can someday find a way to keep the visitors center part of the Ranger Station open on Saturdays (and even Sundays?) year-round. Weekends are undeniably the busiest visitor time on the mountain, and Mount Hood is busy year-round.

Closed mornings, evenings and weekends..?

Closed mornings, evenings and weekends..?

Finally, the pit toilets located outside the new visitor center are currently locked when the visitors center is closed — an unwelcome and unfortunate surprise for travelers who stop early or late in the day, or on weekends.

In the long term, a better way to address the mismatch between federal government hours and those when the public is most likely to be recreating (weekends and holidays) would be to expand the outside informational and interpretive displays to better serve visitors when the main building is closed. This could even include locating interpretive displays some near the pit toilets, and leaving them unlocked on weekends and holidays.

Despite these rough edges, the new visitor center really shines for the Hood River Ranger District. The new facility should greatly enhance the visitor experience for those seeing the area for the first time.

But even if you’re a seasoned Mount Hood hiker, the new center deserves a stop on your next trip through the area. Plan for 20-30 minutes to explore the displays and browse the books and maps.

It’s Time to Fix the Eliot Crossing!

Eliot Branch and Mount Hood before the 2006 washout

Eliot Branch and Mount Hood before the 2006 washout

Another hiking season has passed, marking eight long, inexcusable years since an intense November storm washed out the Timberline National Historic Trail near Cloud Cap in 2006.

Since then, countless hikers from around the world have arrived at this world-class destination only to find cryptic temporary notices stapled to trailhead signs announcing that the segment of the trail crossing the Eliot Branch has been closed indefinitely by the U.S. Forest Service.

Hikers on the seasonal bridge over the Eliot Branch that was in place from the mid-1990s until 2006

Hikers on the seasonal bridge over the Eliot Branch that was in place from the mid-1990s until 2006

Most round-the-mountain hikers start at Timberline Lodge and hike clockwise, and therefore often learn of the Eliot Branch closure halfway through their 40-mile trek. Understandably, many of these hikers began working their way across the deeply eroded canyon in the years following the closure. Today hundreds of hikers each hear ignore the Forest Service notices and follow sketchy boot paths across the Eliot Branch to complete the Timberline Trail circuit.

Why the delay in repairing the trail at the Eliot Branch? The Forest Service claims lack of funding, suggesting in 2010 that “studies were underway” for a million dollar suspension bridge at the current crossing location. Such a project would “require an appropriation by Congress” to fund, according to a Forest Service district ranger at the time.

A second, more practical option under consideration was a significant reroute of the Timberline Trail at the Eliot Branch, which according to the Forest Service at the time, would require “constructing 1.5 miles of new trail to a lower crossing of the creek, then 1.5 miles back up to the existing trail”.

Eight years have passed since the 2006 washout, and four since the Forest Service last gave any indication of working toward a solution for the Timberline Trail. Since then, neither option proposed in 2010 for restoring the crossing has materialized. Instead, Oregon’s premier hiking trail remains an embarrassment, and a testament to the frustrating inability of the Forest Service to set agency priorities that match those of the public they serve.

These seasonable bridge footings were bolted to a pair of huge boulders that were swept away in the 2006 washout

These seasonable bridge footings were bolted to a pair of huge boulders that were swept away in the 2006 washout

The 2006 flood event wasn’t the first time the Eliot Crossing had washed out in recent years. In the mid-1990s, a similar washout erased an earlier crossing that had been in place since the Timberline Trail was constructed in the 1930s. The Forest Service responded to the first washout by appropriating sections of a pair of climber’s trails that ascend moraines on both sides of the Eliot Canyon, and constructing a new crossing between the two trails, above the original crossing.

This new crossing (pictured above) lasted only a few years, until the 2006 storm further deepened the Eliot Branch canyon, this time much more substantially. The new crossing featured a pair of bridge anchors bolted to boulders that straddled the Eliot Branch, and a seasonal bridge that could be reassembled and installed on site each year, similar to the Sandy River bridge near Ramona Falls.

The sorry state of the "closed" Eliot Branch crossing today: a sketchy scramble up a crumbling 300 foot slope, aided by a rope left by hikers

The sorry state of the “closed” Eliot Branch crossing today: a sketchy scramble up a crumbling 300 foot slope, aided by a rope left by hikers

Removable, seasonal bridges are an excellent solution to the dilemma of keeping the Timberline Trail open in an era when retreating glaciers and increasingly erratic weather promises to continue deepening all of Mount Hood’s newly exposed glacial valleys.

This point was underscored earlier this year when an unusually strong summer storm washed out the seasonal Sandy River crossing. While one hiker was tragically killed in the incident, dozens were able to cross to safety because of the seasonal bridge.

For this reason, studying elaborate permanent solutions, such as the “million dollar” suspension bridge, are an exercise in futility. Whole sections of the Eliot Branch canyon have collapsed into the stream over the past two decades during heavy flooding, and there is no reason to assume that this pattern won’t continue to rearrange the landscape for decades to come.

This article proposes a more modest and immediate fix that mirrors the re-route option once considered by the Forest Service. This is a project that could have been constructed shortly after the 2006 floods with minimal cost and an excellent ability to adapt to future flood events.

Lessons from Up North

Wonderland Trail bridge across the Nisqually River in Mount Rainier National Park (Wikimedia)

Wonderland Trail bridge across the Nisqually River in Mount Rainier National Park (Wikimedia)

The Eliot Branch crossing is a perfect example of how the U.S. Forest Service and National Park Service differ in their budget priorities and working relationships with volunteers. It’s instructive to look at how the Park Service responded to the same 2006 storms and flooding that impacted Mount Rainier National Park.

The damage to the 92-mile Wonderland Trail around Mount Rainier was exponentially worse than anything on Mount Hood. This is largely because several of Mount Rainier’s 26 glaciers dwarf even the Eliot Glacier, Mount Hood’s largest, and the Wonderland Trail has three times the glacial stream crossings of the Timberline Trail.

The Wonderland Trail not only crosses many more glacial streams in its circuit around Mount Rainier, it also has bridges across most of them, where most of Mount Hood’s glacial streams have no bridges (requiring hikers to ford most of the glacial streams). So, not only did the Park Service have a trail more than twice as long to restore, but also many times the number of bridges to repair along the Wonderland Trail.

Despite the much greater challenge, the Park Service managed very little disruption for hikers. The Wonderland Trail uses a reservation system, and the Park Service took the precautionary step of not accepting reservations for the 2007 hiking season, in light of the scope of damage to many trail sections and crossings. Yet, the Wonderland Trail was reopened to hikers on August 3, 2007, less than a year after the 2006 floods!

The National Park Service continually maintains dozens of wilderness bridges on the 92-mile long Wonderland Trail around Mount Rainier, despite much worse washouts and much more difficult crossings than anything found on Mount Hood (Wikimedia)

The National Park Service continually maintains dozens of wilderness bridges on the 92-mile long Wonderland Trail around Mount Rainier, despite much worse washouts and much more difficult crossings than anything found on Mount Hood (Wikimedia)

The rapid repairs to the Wonderland Trail happened because re-opening the trail was a top priority for the Mount Rainier National Park. To manage this feat, the staff enlisted some 1,700 volunteers in the effort, with tens of thousands of volunteer labor from organizations like the he Washington Conservation Corps and Student Conservation Association.

The proposal described in this article for the Eliot Branch could easily have been completed in 2007, too, had restoring the trail been a priority for the Forest Service, and especially if volunteer labor had been tapped from any number of organizations involved in trail work in Oregon. Instead, the repairs have waited eight years, with no end in sight.

It’s time to finally fix the Timberline Trail to ensure the safety of hikers determined to make the crossing, and to end the embarrassment of visitors to our region from around the world experiencing this national treasure in such a shameful state of disrepair.

A Simple and Affordable Solution!

EliotCrossing07

[click to see a large version]

The simplest solution to finally restoring the Eliot Branch crossing is to go lower and low-tech. Instead of waiting for a dubious “million dollar” suspension bridge to be funded, a better option would be a new crossing downstream with a simple, seasonal plank bridge.

Why go low? Mostly because the durable bedrock layers that form Stranahan Falls (located about a mile downstream from the current crossing) have also checked down-cutting of the canyon in that stretch by the Eliot Branch. Where the upper canyon has been carved some 150 feet deeper since the 1990s, the lower canyon section, just above Stranahan falls, shows much less erosion during this period.

As shown on the proposal map (above), this new section of the Timberline Trail would depart from Cloud Cap Saddle trailhead, initially following a shallow ravine to the rim of the Eliot Branch canyon. The new trail would then switchback down the east wall of the canyon, reaching the new crossing (shown below) about 0.5 miles from the start of the new trail.

EliotCrossing08

[click to see a large version]

The new, lower stream crossing would be similar to most other glacial fords on the Timberline Trail, except that a bridge is proposed here (as they should be at all glacial crossings on Mount Hood – watch for a future article on that topic!).

This is in part because a bridge has traditionally been provided at this crossing, but also because the crossing location is very close to the Cloud Cap Saddle trailhead, and located at the wilderness boundary, so it would present fewer obstacles to build and maintain. Until the Eliot Branch settles down, however (and that could decades from now – or never), it makes sense to install a season bridge similar to that used on the Sandy River.

From the proposed lower crossing of the Eliot Branch, the new trail would traverse along a side stream that enters the main canyon from the west, climbing approximately 0.8 miles to the resumption of the existing Timberline Trail.

EliotCrossing09

[click to see a large version]

The 600-foot elevation loss (and subsequent gain) for this proposed new alignment of the Timberline Trail would be comparable to what was already required for the old, upper crossing, though the overall mileage of the new route would be slightly longer (by about 0.3 miles). However, the length of the proposed new trail would be less than half of what the Forest Service was considering for a lower crossing option in 2010.

The key to the new crossing location is its proximity to Stranahan Falls, and the massive band of andesite bedrock that not only forms the falls, but also prevents further down-cutting in the area above the falls. As shown the illustrations (above and below), this location is the one spot in the upper reaches of the Eliot Branch canyon that has a reasonable chance of stabilizing in the near term.

EliotCrossing10

[click to see a large version]

As an aside, the area near the brink of Stranahan Falls is arguably the most stable in terms of down cutting, with the streambed now scoured to bedrock for some distance above the falls. But a crossing here would not only add to the elevation loss/gain and distance for the new trail, it would also require some challenging trail construction in the very steep and complex terrain that surrounds the top of the falls.

There are also additional waterfalls to negotiate in the area immediately above Stranahan Falls, including a 25-foot waterslide just above the main falls and a 35″ upper falls just upstream from the waterslide. While it would surely be a spectacular location for a trail crossing, it would also very difficult to build and maintain over time.

A crossing at Stranahan Falls would also encourage more off-trail exploring of the falls area than is desirable, both for public safety and environmental concerns. So, based on these considerations, the crossing location proposed in this article seems to be the best spot for ensuring long-term stability and reasonably straightforward design and construction.

What will it Take?

Sadly, this fine bridge over Clark Creek is among the few surviving on Mount Hood, and the only surviving permanent crossing on a glacial stream.

Sadly, this fine bridge over Clark Creek is among the few surviving on Mount Hood, and the only surviving permanent crossing on a glacial stream.

What would it take to actually build this simple solution for reconnecting the Timberline Trail? Not as much as we’ve been led to believe by the Forest Service. Here’s how the proposal described in this article could be built right away, in 2015:

The total length of the proposed new Timberline Trail section is approximately 1.3 miles, with the first (and most rugged) half mile occurring outside the Mount Hood Wilderness boundary. This would allow for mechanized equipment to be used on that section of new trail, while only hand tools could be used to construct the sections west of the Eliot Branch, inside the wilderness.

These young hikers are experiencing a tainted rite of passage with the long and often treacherous detour required to complete the Timberline Trail (Photo courtesy Christopher Alley)

These young hikers are experiencing a tainted rite of passage with the long and often treacherous detour required to complete the Timberline Trail (Photo courtesy Christopher Alley)

One Forest Service source (the USFS Trails Unlimited enterprise program) estimates the cost of building new trails to be between $2,500 to $12,000 per mile. That’s a big range, to be sure. So for the purpose of this article, I used the top of that range to put the cost of actually constructing the proposed trail at just over $15,000, given that the trail would involve both wilderness construction and steep terrain.

Other costs would include environmental analysis (if needed – this proposal may qualify as a categorical exception), design and surveying. But even if these administrative and technical costs were to triple the cost of the overall project, restoring the Timberline Trail along this alignment might still be possible for well under $100,000, using Forest Service cost estimates. That is a relatively manageable amount that could reasonably be funded from an annual Mount Hood National Forest operating budget of more than $20 million.

So, what’s the delay? First, it’s hard to believe the Forest Service hasn’t considered an inexpensive option like the one proposed here. Yet, no such project has been formally proposed by the agency.

It’s also possible that the Forest Service is still fixated on the more dramatic, elaborate fix described by forest officials in 2010. Such projects are known to bring political favor back at the USFS headquarters in Washington D.C. for their “wow factor” over more mundane projects, after all. Unfortunately, such a project does not appear in the Forest Service schedule of proposed actions (SOPA) where a proposal of that scale would almost surely have to be listed.

This is the frustrating map that still greets Timberline Trail hikers on the Mount Hood National Forest website after eight years

This is the frustrating map that still greets Timberline Trail hikers on the Mount Hood National Forest website after eight years

[click here for a large version]

A third possibility is that the Forest Service is holding the trail hostage in protest to budget cuts that have affected most federal agencies over the past several years. While this might seem far-fetched, consider that Oregon Congressmen Earl Blumenauer and Greg Walden made a much-publicized 4-day trek around the Timberline Trail in July 2005 to highlight issues facing the mountain, just one year before the Eliot Crossing washed out.

Whatever the reason, fixing the Timberline Trail doesn’t seem to be a real priority for the Forest Service. Why else would the most important trail in the Mount Hood National Forest have languished for the past eight years? In that time, the agency has spent tens of millions on other forest projects.

The sad saga of the Timberline Trail closer at the Eliot Branch is also another reminder of just how different the situation at Mount Hood might be if it were under National Park management… which is the much better solution in the long term.
________________

Special thanks to Tim Burke and Melinda Muckenthaler for use of your photos – and for some of the most amazing waterfall exploring anyone has ever done on Mount Hood!

The Newton Clark Moraine

Mount Hood and the Newton Clark Moraine from Bennett Pass Road

Tucked on the remote east shoulder of Mount Hood is the Newton Clark Moraine, the largest glacial formation on the mountain, and one of its most prominent features. Yet this huge, snaking ridge remains one of Mount Hood’s least known and most mysterious landmarks.

At over three miles in length, and rising as much as a thousand feet above the glacial torrents that flow along both flanks, the Newton Clark Moraine easily dwarfs the more famous moraines along the nearby Eliot Glacier.

East Face Detail with Newton Clark Moraine

How big is it? The Newton Clark Moraine contains roughly 600 million cubic yards of debris, ranging from fine gravels and glacial till to house-sized boulders. This translates to 950 million tons of material, which in human terms, means it would take 73 million dump truck loads to haul it away.

Backcountry skiers often call the moraine “Pea Gravel Ridge”, which is a poor choice of words, as pea gravel is something you would expect in tumbled river rock. The Newton Clark Moraine is just the opposite: a jumble of relatively young volcanic debris, some of it located where it fell in Mount Hood’s eruptive past, some of it moved here by the colossal advance of the Newton Clark Glacier during the last ice age.

Newton Clark Moraine

As a result, the rocks making up the moraine are sharp and raw, not rounded, and the debris is largely unsorted. Giant boulders perch precariously atop loose rubble, making the moraine one of the most unstable places on the mountain.

In recent years, erosion on Mount Hood has been accelerating with climate change. Sections of the Newton Clark Moraine are regularly collapsing into Newton and Clark creeks, creating massive debris flows that have repeatedly washed out Highway 35, below.

2006 Newton Creek Washout on Highway 35 (USFS)

Today, an ambitious Federal Highway Administration project is underway to rebuild and — supposedly — prevent future washouts on Highway 35 at Newton Creek and the White River. But given those 73 million dump truck loads of debris located upstream on Newton Creek, it’s likely that nature has different plans for the area as climate change continues to destabilize the landscape.

Something a Little Different

Most glacial moraines on Mount Hood are lateral moraines, formed along the flanks of glaciers, or terminal moraines formed at the end of a glacier. The Newton Clark Moraine is different: it is a medial moraine, meaning that it formed between two rivers of ice.

(Wikipedia)

As shown in this schematic (above), medial moraines are more common in places like Alaska or Chile, where much larger glaciers flow for miles, like rivers. When these glaciers merge, a medial moraine is often created, marked by the characteristic stripe of rock that traces the border between the combined streams of ice.

At the surface of a glacier, only the top of a medial moraine is visible. Only upon a glacier retreating can the full size of a medial moraine be appreciated. In this way, the height of the Newton Clark Moraine is a reasonable estimate of the height (or depth) of the ancestral Newton Clark Glacier during the most recent ice age advance — the crest of the moraine approximates the depth of the former glacier.

The Newton Clark Prow

The Newton Clark Moraine is even more unique in that the two bodies of ice that formed the moraine flowed from the same glacier. Like the modern Newton Clark Glacier, the much larger ice age ancestor also began as a single, wide body of ice on Mount Hood’s east flank, but then split as it flowed around the massive rocky prow that now marks the terminus to the glacier.

The outcrop is typical of the stratovolcanoes that make up the high peaks of the Cascades. Stratovolcanoes are formed like a layer cake, with alternating flows of tough, erosion-resistant magma and loose ash and debris deposits. The Newton Clark Prow is a hard layer of magma in the “cake” that is Mount Hood, with looser layers of volcanic ash and debris piled above and below.

Newton Clark Prow detail from Gnarl Ridge

In fact, without this broad rib of volcanic rock to shore up its eastern side, the very summit of Mount Hood might well have been further eroded during the series of glacial advances that have excavated the peak.

Similar rocky outcrops appear elsewhere on the mountain, forming Mississippi Head, Yocum Ridge, Barrett Spur and the Langille Crags. Hikers visiting Gnarl Ridge know the Newton Clark Prow from the many waterfalls formed by glacial runoff cascading over its cliffs.

(Click here for a larger version)

The much softer and less consolidated rock below the prow made it easy for the ice age ancestor of the Newton Clark to scour away the mountain. This action created the huge alpine canyons that Clark and Newton creeks flow through today, as well as the enormous U-shaped valley of the East Fork Hood River.

A Glimpse into the Ice Age

While today’s Newton Clark Glacier flows a little over a mile down the east face of the mountain, its giant ice age ancestor once flowed more than 12 miles down the East Fork valley (today’s Highway 35 route), nearly to the junction of today’s Cooper Spur road. At its peak, the ancestral glacier was more than 1,200 feet deep as it flowed down the valley.

If you were to walk along the crest of the Newton Clark Moraine at that time (as suggested in the illustration, below), you would have likely been able to walk directly across the ice to Gnarl Ridge or today’s Meadows lifts, as the Clark and Newton Creek valleys were filled to the rim with rivers of ice.

Ancestral Newton Clark Glacier Extent

(Click here for a larger version)

This most recent ice age is known to scientists as the Fraser Glaciation, and extended from about 30,000 years ago until about 10,000 years ago. At its peak, the zone of perpetual snow was as low as 3,400 feet, though probably closer to 4,000 feet in the area east of Mount Hood.

This means the deflation zone — the point in its path when a glacier is melting ice more quickly than snowfall can replace — was probably somewhere near the modern-day Clark Creek Sno-Park, or possibly as low as the Gumjuwac Trailhead, where today’s Highway 35 crosses the East Fork.

Below this point, the ancestral glacier would have changed character, from a white jumble of cascading ice to one covered in rocky debris, yet still flowing toward its terminus at roughly at modern-day confluence of the East Fork with Polallie Creek (the map below shows a very generalized estimate of the ancestral glacier)

Geologists believe the Fraser-era glacial advances followed the path of earlier glaciers in their flow patterns. With the Newton-Clark glacier, scientists have found traces of at least two previous glacial advances from even more ancient glacial periods that extended far down the East Fork Valley prior to the Fraser Glaciation. This helps explain the magnitude of the glacial features in the East Fork valley, having been repeatedly carved into an enormous U-shaped trough by rivers of ice over the millennia.

Ancestral Newton Clark Glacier extending down the East Fork valley

(Click here for a larger version)

The timing of the Fraser Glaciation is even more fascinating, as it coincides with the arrival of the first humans in the Americas. It was during this time — at least 15,000 years ago, and likely much earlier — that the first nomadic people crossed the Bering Straight and moved down the Pacific Coast.

Does this mean that the earliest humans in the region might have camped at the base of Mount Hood’s enormous ice age glaciers, perhaps hunting for summer game along the outflow streams? No evidence exists to show just how far humans pushed into Mount Hood’s prehistoric valleys, but scientists now believe people have lived along the Columbia River for at least 10,000 years, and the oral histories of some tribes in the region are also believed to extend back to that time.

How to See It

The best way to see and appreciate the Newton Clark Moraine is along the Timberline Trail where it follows Gnarl Ridge. This route offers a wide-open view across Newton Canyon to the moraine. You can also see the active geology at the headwaters of Newton Creek, where the slopes of the moraine continue to change every winter. On a breezy day, you might also notice sulfur fumes blowing over the summit from the crater — a reminder that Mount Hood is still very much a living volcano today.

Mount Hood and the Newton Clark Moraine (on the left) from Gnarl Ridge

You can follow a detailed hike description to Gnarl Ridge from the Portland Hikers Field Guide at the following link:

Portland Hikers Field Guide: Gnarl Ridge Hike

Another way to see the moraine is from rustic Bennett Pass Road. In summer, you can walk or bike along the old road from Bennett Pass, and there are several viewpoints across the East Fork valley to the headwaters and the Newton Clark Moraine. In winter, you can park as the Bennett Pass Sno-Park and ski or snowshoe to one of the viewpoints — a popular and scenic option.

The most adventurous way to visit is to simply hike the crest of the moraine, itself. This trip is only for the most fit and experienced hikers, as the final segment is off-trail, climbing high above the Timberline Trail. The reward is not only close-up look at the mountain from atop the moraine, but also a rare look at a series of spectacular waterfalls that can only be seen from this vantage point.

Whatever option you choose, you’ll have unique glimpse into Mount Hood’s past — and possibly its future — through one of the mountain’s most unusual geologic features.

White River Buried Forest

The summer of 2011 will be remembered as the year of the Dollar Lake Fire in the Mount Hood area, as much of the north side is still smoldering from a lightning-caused wildfire that ignited on August 26. Though a calamity to those who loved the verdant forests on Mount Hood’s northern slopes, the fire is a blip on the screen when compared to the many explosive events that have rearranged the mountain’s forests and topography over the millennia.

Among the most recent and fascinating of these events are the Old Maid eruptions. These explosions knocked over entire forests on the mountain’s south side like matchsticks, burying them under a deep layer of ash and volcanic debris. This article describes the Old Maid events, and how to see traces of their aftermath today.

The Old Maid Eruptions

While most tourists at Timberline Lodge on a given day are blissfully unaware that Mount Hood is living volcano, the occasional, heady odor of sulfur fumes blowing down from the crater are a reminder the “quiet” spell we are enjoying is only temporary.

[click here for a larger version]

In geologic terms, the Old Maid eruptions are incredibly recent, finally winding down in our recorded history of the early 1800s. The events are named for Old Maid Flats, the debris plain created by the eruptions in the Sandy River canyon, though the impact on the mountain was much broader.

Scientists have determined the Old Maid eruptive period to have occurred within from about 1760 to 1810 A.D. In fact, when Lewis & Clark described the shallow “quicksand” delta of the Sandy River in 1804-05, they were looking at volcanic sediments that had only recently flooded down the river from the active slopes Mount Hood.

The former floor of the White River canyon is visible as a thin layer of oxidized soil, dotted with mummified trees.

The scientific accuracy of these dates is made possible by thousands of mummified trees swept over by the Old Maid debris flows, and later exposed by streams cutting into the sediments. The White River buried forest is one of the more prominent locations where these flattened forests and the former valley floor can plainly be seen.

The Old Maid eruptions originated in the modern crater of Mount Hood, where sulfur fumes still rise from the vents known as the Devils Kitchen. The massive, 800-foot volcanic dome of Crater Rock, itself, is just 200 years old and formed during these eruptions. The heat of rising magma in the crater eventually sent pyroclastic flows down the Sandy and White River canyons — rolling clouds of super-heated ash and debris that buried the entire landscape.

A closer look at the buried valley floor reveals mummified trees.

The Old Maid eruptions deposited about one hundred feet of debris throughout the upper White River canyon, filling the formerly U-shaped glacial valley with a flat fan of volcanic boulders, cobbles and fine ash. The outflow from the White River Glacier has since carved deeply into the debris flow, revealing the old valley floor and some of the thousands of mummified trees knocked over by the Old Maid event.

A flat-topped ridge in the middle of the White River canyon known as Mesa Terrace (see earlier schematic) is a remnant of the debris flow that shows the original depth of the debris above the valley floor.

Close-up of an entire tree, tipped over and buried where it fell on the former valley floor.

Two types of debris flow swept down the southern slopes of Mount Hood during the Old Maid eruptions. The most destructive were the pyroclastic flows, which many of us are familiar with from the colossal Mount St. Helens eruption of May 18, 1980.

In addition to the hot pyroclastic flows, cooler mudflows from flash-melted glaciers and snowfields also swept down Mount Hood’s south slopes during the Old Maid events. We know the buried forests at the bottom of White River Canyon fell victim to these mudflows, as pyroclastic flows would have instantly incinerated the standing timber. Instead, the cooler debris flows simply knocked the forests over, and buried them under layers of mud and debris.

Scientists believe these trees were partially buried, then broken off by subsequent flows.

Scientists believe the old valley floor now being revealed by erosion was of glacial origin, dating back to the last major glacial advance of the White River Glacier some 10,000 years ago. Thus, forests grew undisturbed along the former valley floor of the White River for a very long time.

Hiking to the Overlook

Hiking to the White River buried forest overlook is easy and scenic, as well as historic and iconic: it follows Mount Hood’s famous Timberline Trail for 0.7 miles to the impressive rim of the White River canyon. This section of trail also serves as the Pacific Crest Trail, the 2,000-mile epic trek from Mexico to Canada.

To find the trailhead, park in the lower, overflow lot located to the east of Timberline Lodge. Park near a gated dirt on the west side of the parking area. Follow this old road steeply uphill for about 200 yards to an obvious junction with the Timberline Trail, and turn right (or, if you’re coming from the lodge, follow any of the trails beyond the lodge uphill to the Timberline Trail and turn right). The Timberline Trail quickly traverses into a side-canyon, crossing the headwaters of the Salmon River.

Next, the Timberline Trail rambles across pumice-covered slopes and soon reaches a sign marking the Richard L. Kohnstamm Wilderness, created in 2009 as an addition to the wilderness complex that encircles Mount Hood. Kohnstamm was the resort operator responsible for resurrecting a struggling Timberline Lodge in the 1950s, and setting the resort on the successful path that it continues to enjoy today.

[click here for a larger, printable map]

Beyond the wilderness boundary, the trail descends across another pumice slope, then drops more steeply on a surface of loose glacial till as it traces the west moraine of the White River canyon. Soon, you will reach the overlook where the Timberline Trail follows the moraine crest, and arrives at a stand of trees. This is a good spot to stop and take in the scenery, and especially to pick out the signs of the buried forest, at the bottom of the canyon, below.

The south-facing slopes and open terrain can make this a hot, dusty hike in late summer, so be sure to carry water. You will also want a pair of binoculars to view the buried forest details more closely. If you have the time and energy after visiting the buried forest overlook, you can retrace your step to the dirt access road, then turn right and follow it to Silcox Hut, about 0.8 miles from the trailhead. The hut was the original upper terminal for the first Magic Mile ski lift in the late 1930s, and today is maintained as an historic structure.

SOLVED: North Side Waterfall Mystery

Fans of the classic 1975 edition of Jack Grauer’s “Mount Hood: A Complete History” have memorized the many rare photos and stories found only in this unique book. For waterfall hunters, the photo on page 226 (shown above) is particularly compelling. The 1890s image is titled “Wallalute Falls on Compass Creek”, and shows the tiny figure of a man at the base of a dramatic falls.

The mystery in this caption stems from the fact that USGS maps have long shown Wallalute Falls to be the prominent cascade on the Eliot Branch, just below Cloud Cap. This huge falls is visible from Inspiration Point on the Cloud Cap Road, and is clearly not the same as the cascade shown in the Grauer book.

This article attempts to untangle the story of these waterfalls, and the confusion surrounding the names of the remarkable, mysterious group of waterfalls spread across the Eliot, Compass and Coe drainages.

The story begins in June 2010, when I posted a report at PortlandHikers.org on my first good view of the two mapped waterfalls on the Coe Branch. I had spotted them from an off-trail outcrop on the east rim of the Hood River Valley, and captured this grainy view from a very long telephoto image:

My excitement over this sighting began with the first good look at the very tall, powerful Coe Falls. Though I had explored the brink of the falls from the Timberline Trail, I had never made the rugged descent to the base of the falls. Thus, finally seeing this magnificent waterfall in its entirety was a thrill.

I watched Coe Falls for a moment through the lens, and then to my astonishment, I realized that the adjacent falls (on an unnamed tributary to the Coe Branch) was also in plain view! While Coe Falls was towering and stately, this neighboring cascade was a sprawling, graceful veil. I gave the unnamed falls the working title of “Kalakwhahtie Falls”, which is Chinook jargon for “petticoat”, and quite descriptive of the falls (and I couldn’t bring myself to add another “Bridal Veil” falls to the long list with that name!)

Wayne Harvey’s Adventures

Based on my PortlandHikers.org report and the photo schematic I provided, local waterfall adventurer Wayne Harvey was intrigued, and in July 2010 made an epic solo trip into the Coe Branch canyon to explore and document this impressive pair of waterfalls. His trip produced the first known contemporary image of Coe Falls, thundering into its huge amphitheater:

Coe Falls in 2010

Wayne also captured the first known photo of Kalakwhahtie Falls, cascading over the east wall of the Coe Falls amphitheater. Though the mid-summer stream levels in Wayne’s photo (below) were notably lower than in my grainy images from across the valley, his images captured a uniquely beautiful waterfall:

Kalakwhahtie Falls in 2010

Wayne’s photos of Coe Falls immediately raised questions about the Wallalute Falls image in the Grauer book. The resemblance was striking, and without definitive modern images of the waterfalls on Compass Creek to compare to, another possibility arose: was the falls in Jack Grauer’s book actually Coe Falls?

Further intrigued by the unfolding mystery, Wayne made a second, even more rugged solo trip into the Coe Branch canyon in July 2011, this time to explore Compass Creek and document the remaining waterfalls of Mount Hood’s north slope.

Wayne’s 2011 return trip took him across the boulder-filled floor of the Coe Branch valley, then into the dense underbrush of the remote Compass Creek canyon. His first discovery was the lower of the two mapped falls on Compass Creek to be much larger than anyone had imagined, dropping roughly 100 feet into a picturesque bowl (below).

Lower Compass Falls in 2011

The larger-than-expected lower falls also presented an obstacle for Wayne as he searched for a route upstream to the main falls. He later described a scramble up a steep chute that was “all fours in places”, and the only passable route. Beyond the scramble past the lower falls, Wayne continued upstream to an impressive view of Compass Creek Falls, dropping nearly 200 feet into a sheer amphitheater (below).

The real Wallalute Falls on Compass Creek in 2011

With this image, Wayne had solved the Wallalute Falls mystery: the falls pictured in the Grauer book is clearly the same as the falls he documented on Compass Creek. Wallalute Falls is indeed on Compass Creek, not the Eliot Branch.

Unraveling the Mapping Mystery

With Wayne Harvey’s trip report from Compass Creek in hand, it was now possible to unravel another waterfall mystery. This time, the confusion involves another historic photo from the area dating from the 1890s, and titled “Strawnahan’s Falls” (below):

1890s Stranahan Falls - known for decades as “Wallalute”

For years, waterfall hunters have recognized this falls to be the large, prominent falls on the Eliot Branch identified on maps as Wallalute Falls (shown below in its modern form). The reference to “Strawnahan” (which is clearly a misspelling of “Stranahan”, the name given to a nearby ridge in honor of area pioneers) was assumed to be either an informal name that was later replaced by “Wallalute” or simply an error on the historic photo, itself.

Stranahan Falls as it appears today, after years of recent flooding have scoured the Eliot Branch canyon

Wayne Harvey’s field documentation of the real Wallalute Falls now seems to provide definitive evidence that a map error occurred, transferring the “Wallalute” name from Compass Creek to the Eliot Branch, with the “Stranahan” name simply getting lost in the shuffle.

The following map provides the context for the USGS map error by showing the close, and potentially confusing proximity of (1) Stranahan Falls (labeled as Wallalute on USGS maps), (2) the true Wallalute Falls on Compass Creek, and (3) the lower falls on Compass Creek.

Still another twist in this saga comes from a later, more obscure edition of the Grauer book, published in 2006. In this edition, Grauer describes the work of Mount Hood pioneer Mark Weygandt building the earliest trails in the vicinity of Cloud Cap Inn:

“It was probably in this year (1900) that he built trails. One trail led from the low end of Ghost Ridge to a view of Stranahan Falls. He then extended it across Eliot Creek to Stranahan Ridge and to Wallalute Falls and Canon Balls Falls on Compass Creek, at the bottom of Adams’ Hole. Parts of this route later became part of [the] Timberline Trail. He also made a trail down Sand Creek Ridge to a viewpoint of the falls on Sand Creek, later named Polallie Creek.”

These accounts are the gold standard for Mount Hood history, partly because Grauer lived a good portion of it himself, but also because of the extensive spoken history he has documented through interviews of the historic figures, themselves.

Grauer’s description gives a name to the lower Compass Creek falls for the first time in recent memory — “Canon Ball Falls” — as well as the canyon section that encompasses both Wallalute and Canon Ball falls on Compass Creek — “Adams’ Hole”. Grauer is also definitive on the Stranahan and Wallalute names, correctly tying them to the Eliot Branch and Compass Creek, respectively.

Mapping the North Side Waterfalls

The USGS map error that created the confusion may go back more than a century, as it appears to be reflected on all USGS maps known to carry the name “Wallalute”. The follow map excerpt (below) is from 1924, and shows how the error could have occurred: note that early topographic maps didn’t always show the crosshatch used to denote waterfalls on more contemporary maps. With this omission, and the close proximity of Compass Creek and the Eliot Branch on earlier, small-scale maps, it’s easy to see how later cartographers might have been confused as to which stream Wallalute Falls was really on.

1924 USGS Map

The following USGS map excerpt (below) was published in 1962, and is the first to attach Wallalute Falls specifically to the Eliot Branch. This map appeared when the 1:24,000 topographic series was being published, and the larger scale allowed features like Wallalute Falls to be more definitively identified — or, in this case — misidentified. Though the location of Wallalute was in error on the 1962 sheets, these large-scale maps did show the the waterfalls on Compass Creek and the Coe Branch accurately for the first time.

1962 USGS Map

Pulling all of this together, the following is an oblique view of the north side region showing all of the waterfalls in context: Stranahan Falls on the Eliot Branch, Wallalute and Canon Ball falls on Compass Creek, and Kalakwhahtie and Coe falls on the Coe Branch.

(Click here for a larger map)

Also shown are a couple of unnamed tributary waterfalls in the Coe Branch canyon, and there are surely other waterfalls yet to be discovered in this seldom-visited area.

In an effort to close the chapter on this naming saga, I plan to provide the documentation from this article to the Oregon Board of Geographic Names (OBGN), in hopes that they can eventually look into the matter and perhaps correct the map error of more than a century ago.

Visiting the Waterfalls

The series of waterfalls described in this article are remote and difficult to reach. Visiting these waterfalls is only for expert explorers.

Wayne Harvey approached the Coe and Compass Creek falls from the Elk Cove Trail, dropping into the canyon just beyond the prominent Coe Canyon overlook. This required a rugged descent of nearly a thousand vertical feet, followed by challenging bushwhacks at stream level to the waterfalls.

1920s Visitors to Cloud Cap taking in the view of Stranahan Falls (just to the right of the small tree in front of the car) and Mount Hood from Inspiration Point

Stranahan Falls can be seen from Inspiration Point, but represents a potentially dangerous descent into a canyon that has been destabilized by recent floods. However, there are good views of the falls from a boot path that descends to a rocky overlook, just below Inspiration Point on the Cloud Cap Road.

One of the trail concepts in the Mount Hood National Park Campaign calls for a “low trail” paralleling the Timberline Trail. On the north side of Mount Hood, this new route would connect the dots among the string of waterfalls described in this article. Wayne Harvey’s remarkable images of the waterfalls only underscore the case for providing access to these beautiful places, hiding in plain sight.

Acknowledgements: special thanks to Wayne Harvey for the use of his images and field reports, and to both Wayne Harvey and Bryan Swan of the Northwest Waterfall Survey for their help in untangling the history of geographic names in the Eliot, Compass and Coe drainages.

Discovering Bald Mountain

The country is filled with “Bald Mountains”, but for sheer scenic spectacle, few can compare to the Bald Mountain that rises just four miles away from the towering west face of Mount Hood. At one time, a fire lookout stood atop this Bald Mountain, and the view from the tower must have been the envy of fire lookouts around the Northwest.

Today, Bald Mountain isn’t entirely bald, having grown a dense forest of noble fir along the crest and northern slopes over the past half-century. Yet, it was in the 1970s, when the Timberline Trail was rerouted to lead hikers across the steep, open meadows on the south slope of the mountain, that hikers became familiar with Bald Mountain. Today, this spectacular traverse continues to provide one of the most popular, exhilarating sections along the classic loop hike.

Though most visitors to Bald Mountain keep to the Timberline Trail, you can still follow the historic old path that leads to the former lookout site, with its magnificent, close-up views of Mount Hood. Thanks to the quiet efforts of a few anonymous volunteers over the decades, the trail remains open and lightly maintained, with only an occasional log to step over along the way.

As the old path climbs toward the summit, hikers find themselves in a dense, young forest, and have to use their imagination to picture the open slopes of beargrass — with no forests — that existed when the first lookout was built on “Bald” Mountain more than a century ago.

Along the old trail, hikers will also spot blazes on the few trees that stood at the time of the former lookout tower. These blazes mark most historic trails (see this recent article on blazes) in the Mount Hood area, and confirm that the present alignment of the summit path to Bald Mountain dates back to at least the World War II era, and likely before.

A look at the 1911 USGS map of Mount Hood (below) shows that a “lookout” stood on Bald Mountain long before roads crossed Lolo Pass, and decades before the Timberline Trail was built. The early lookout structure was likely no more than a wood platform, later replaced with a conventional lookout tower. Interestingly, the Beaver Lakes shown on the map have since faded away, too, filled in with forest:

The 1946 USGS map of the Mount Hood area (below) is the last to show a lookout on Bald Mountain (and the Beaver Lakes), but in the intervening years from the 1911 map, the Timberline Trail and Skyline Trail had been completed, with both routes passing just below the lookout.

In fact, it’s likely that the section of Skyline Trail from Lolo Pass to Bald Mountain was originally built for lookout access, since the trail over Lolo Pass was among the earliest built in the area, and in fact, followed an ancient Indian route connecting the Sandy and Hood River valleys.

The alternating ticks shown along the dashed trail segments on the 1946 map indicate a telephone line along the route. Today, these routes often have ceramic insulators still attached to trees, and on this route further suggest that this section of trail was originally built with the lookout in mind. The route is now part of the Pacific Crest Trail, which replaced the old Skyline Trail, and remains one of the best approaches for hiking to Bald Mountain.

What did the old tower look like?

Fire lookouts in the Pacific Northwest followed a few standard designs beginning in the 1930s, after much improvisation in the early lookout designs that were built through the 1920s. The Bald Mountain lookout probably followed this evolution, with some sort of simple platform beginning at the turn of the twentieth century, and later, a more substantial structure built to Forest Service standards.

We have a much more exact picture after June 1944, when archived Forest Service documents show a new lookout was designed, apparently to replace an existing structure on Bald Mountain. The following are samples from the 1944 architectural plans for Bald Mountain. There are no clear records of when this lookout was removed, but it was likely in the late 1950s or 1960s, when hundreds of lookouts were viewed as outmoded by the Forest Service and destroyed.

The cab — or cabin — in the 1944 designs for Bald Mountain is a 14×14 foot structure (above) that would closely resemble the surviving cab on the Devils Peak lookout, just to the southwest of Mount Hood in the Salmon-Huckleberry Wilderness. This simple design featured five windows per side and a low, pitched roof.

Inside the cab (below), the living space was organized around a Osborne fire finder, located in the center of the floor, surrounded by a wood stove, table, kitchen, storage cabinets, shelves and bunk. A catwalk wrapped around the outside of the cab, allowing lookouts to maintain the windows, raise and lower shutters and haul firewood and supplies up from below with pulleys.

The 14×14 foot cab rested atop a 43-foot wood-frame tower (below), complete with a spiraling stairway that ascended within the tower uprights. Though the tower was anchored directly to the ground, the main stabilization came from guy wires anchoring the tower to concrete footings in four directions.

The most remarkable aspect of this tower (and many others) is the fact that most of the materials were carried to the site over trails using livestock. That included the cut lumber, concrete, construction hardware, fixtures and windows — an amazing feat when you consider this was repeated dozens of times at lookout sites around the region.

The lookout plans for Bald Mountain also contain one “standard” element that wasn’t so standard, at least compared to other lookouts in the vicinity: a garage and storage shed built around the base of the tower. In this view, the stairway to the tower can be seen on the right, with the dashed lines above the garage marking the location of the tower uprights:

As this design detail from the 1944 plans suggests, there were a number of concrete footings used in the construction of the Bald Mountain lookout tower. Today, these seem to be the only remaining traces of the structure. Three footings are loose, and have been moved around and used by campers over the years. Other footings remain in the ground, mostly reclaimed by the undergrowth. This footing is located along the spur trail leading to the east viewpoint from the lookout site:

Visiting Bald Mountain

There is some irony in the historic Bald Mountain trail being “lost”, as the mountain is now almost completely circled by the Timberline Trail, and thousands of hikers make their way along this route every year. Almost all of these visitors walk right past the unmarked summit path leading to Bald Mountain.

But for those seeking the route less traveled, the hike to the summit is easy, provided you successfully navigate the maze of popular trails in the area. The key is knowing how to spot the unmarked junction with the Timberline Trail. Take a close look at this photo to help you recognize the spot if you choose to visit the old trail — this view is how the trail appears from either of the approaches described below:

From Lolo Pass: The Classic Approach

The classic hike begins at Lolo Pass, and follows the Pacific Crest Trail through handsome forests for three miles to the base of the Bald Mountain summit path. The total mileage on this option is 6.6 miles round trip, with an elevation gain of 1,400 feet. The following is a map of the Lolo Pass approach that accompanies the hike description I wrote for the Portland Hikers Field Guide:

Click here for a larger map

For a detailed description of the Lolo Pass approach, visit the Portland Hikers Field Guide page:

Lolo Pass to Bald Mountain Hike

The Field Guide description also includes driving instructions to the trailhead. This is a dry hike, so carry water — and in early summer, plan on the usual bugs that plaque hikers just after snow melt. My favorite time to hike this trail is on a clear day after the first autumn snow dusts the mountain in late September or October. This is when the area is free of bugs AND crowds.

From Top Spur: The Family Route

For a shorter hike that works well for families with kids (or for adults looking for a short afternoon or evening activity) you can also approach Bald Mountain from the Top Spur trailhead. Be forewarned that this is one of the most popular trailheads in the Mount Hood region, and mobbed on summer weekends.

But even on busy weekends, you can smile to yourself as you leave the crowds behind, and head up the quiet, old lookout path for some solitude — hidden in plain sight! From the summit viewpoint, you can literally look down on hikers passing hundreds of feet below on the Timberline Trail, oblivious to your presence.

Click here for a larger map

The Top Spur option is just two miles long, round-trip, with an elevation gain of 550 feet. Though short, portions of both the Top Spur and Bald Mountain trails are steep, so you will notice the elevation gain! The tradeoff for kids is the feeling of climbing a real mountain. Bring a pair of binoculars for kids to explore the details of Mount Hood or watch hawks float across the Muddy Fork Valley, below.

For a detailed description of the Top Spur approach, including travel instructions, visit the Portland Hikers Field Guide page:

Top Spur to Bald Mountain Hike

One of the most magical times to visit Bald Mountain is evening, when you can watch the awesome west face of Mount Hood light up at sunset, but still have enough light to hike back to the Top Spur trailhead.

Both hikes are usually open from mid-June through mid-November, and both require a Northwest Forest Pass to park. Both trailheads usually have portable toilets, but no water — be sure to carry your own.

Blazes!

Trail blazing is the ancient practice of marking paths with a system of symbols to help travelers navigate, and since the rise of recreational hiking in the 1800s, has been adapted to foot trails. Blazes are generally placed at eye-level, and spaced frequently enough to reassure hikers of the route.

In other parts of the country, where trails often cross private lands and many are maintained by hiking clubs, blazes can take the form of painted dots and symbols or small signs or medallions attached to trees, with hundreds of localized variations. These symbols are easy for volunteers to maintain, and often lend their design to the trail name (e.g., the “White Cross”, “Red Dot” and “White Cross” trails in New Hampshire’s White Mountains)

In the Pacific Northwest, where most of our hiking is on public lands, we are used to the standard Forest Service tree blazes that still mark most of our trails (like the one pictured at the top of this article). Though the practice of chopping blazes into trees has long been discontinued out of consideration for trees and trail aesthetics, many of the original blazes still remain, decades later.

Where trails leave the forest canopy, many Northwest trails are marked with stone cairns, such as along Gunsight Ridge (above) near Mount Hood. Along Mount Hood’s famous Timberline trail, cairns along the high eastern section are further accented by 6x6x8 cedar posts (below) that have been gracefully carved by the elements over the years.

Today, the legacy of Pacific Northwest trail blazing is fading quickly, as most blazes were made at least 50 years ago, and some as much as a century ago. The example below, on Mount Hood, is from a standing snag that tells a familiar story: the tree survived the initial blaze marks for many years — long enough to heal — before finally dying and losing its bark, revealing the layers of blaze-scarred wood, beneath.

Most northwest trees large enough to withstand a blaze are very large, long-lived species, so there are also countless examples of blazes that have simply been swallowed up by successive seasons of growth. With a sharp eye, you can often spot examples like the one below, where only the healed-over scar of the blaze remains. This tree has nearly erased the blaze scars that were likely made in the 1930s or 40s, but could easily thrive and grow for another century or more.

The Forest Service Standard

By the 1930s, the Forest Service had established a simple standard for blazes that is responsible for the thousands of blaze remnants that we see today. The Forest Service blaze consisted of an 8” rectangle topped by a 2” rectangle, forming the familiar upside-down exclamation mark that we still find on our trails. The width of the rectangles was determined by the width of an axe blade, roughly 4” across.

The following instructional diagram is from a Forest Service trail manual dating to the 1930s, and provided the basics for the thousands of young Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) workers who flooded the nation’s forests and parks during the Depression, building trails, campgrounds and roads.

As the diagram (above) shows, the Forest Service blaze was designed for speed, with trail crews quickly working their way along paths, blazing as they went. The crews of the 1930s covered thousands of miles of trails, as the trail network of the day was more than twice what survives today.

The following is another schematic from the same manual, providing more tips for the CCC crews on how to cut blazes:

Though most of our trail blazes in the Pacific Northwest follow this standard (or use cairns in open areas), one notable exception exists that is closer to the Eastern system of customized trail icons: the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT).

Throughout its length, the trail is marked with the familiar triangular shield (below), though the old-style metal PCT signs still survive in many sections of the trail.

The PCT sign is an accepted Forest Service standard, and it makes sense that an iconic sign is warranted, as most of the PCT is stitched together from the cobweb of forest trails that existed prior to the PCT, making for many potentially confusing junctions along the way.

There are also a few local trails in our region that carry an iconic, themed logo that follows the Eastern style, thanks to the work of a few volunteers in the 1970s and 80s. Most notable among them was Basil W. Clark, who not only helped build new trails, but also created illustrated signs for them, such as the “Chetwoot Loop” sign, below:

Clark’s whimsical icon signs also appeared at Devils Rest and Trapper Creek, as well as other spots in the Gorge, and a few still remain today, providing a charming, rustic feel that is unique to these spots. Click here for an early 1980s Oregonian tribute to Clark.

A Future for Themed Blazes?

Chopping blazes into living trees is now a relic of the past, but is there a future for more contemporary blazes along our forest trails? After all, we have only a few decades left before all traces of this earlier era are erased, and trails will be completely reliant on other forms of signage and markings.

One route that could benefit from an iconic, tailored blaze sign is the Timberline Trail. The system of cairns built in the most alpine sections are a good start, but along the rest of the route, there are many spots where the web of intersecting approach routes make it confusing to know if you are still on the loop trail. The Timberline Trail has a couple of easy options for a blaze theme — the Timberline Lodge logo (below, left) or perhaps a CCC-based logo (below, right), given the unique history of the trail.

Other candidates could be the simple loop paths that circle Lost Lake and Trillium Lake, two of Mount Hood’s most visited destinations. Both have thousands of newbie hikers visiting them in the course of a year, many hiking for the very first time. Both trails also have a maze of unofficial, unmarked fisherman and campground paths that can make staying on the loop trail confusing, so a system of blaze signs would provide a useful function.

How might this come about?

As Basil Clark proved, themed blazes are a perfect project for volunteers, from designing and creating the signs, to providing the ongoing installation and maintenance inherent to trail signage. Perhaps trail organizations like Trailkeepers of Oregon, the Mazamas or the Trails Club of Oregon would jump at the opportunity to provide this service?

As always, one way you can help is to propose this idea (or any others you might have) to the Forest Service through their online suggestion box.

Building the Timberline Trail

The McNeil Point Shelter.

For decades, hikers and backpackers have taken Mount Hood’s famous Timberline Trail for granted — and why not? It was one of the earliest alpine hiking trails in the American West, and seems to have evolved with the mountain itself.

But the story of the trail is one of an original vision that has been realized in fits and starts, and the story is still unfolding.

The first recreational trail on Mount Hood followed the South Eliot Moraine from Cloud Cap Inn to Cooper Spur, as shown on this 1911 map.

The first modern trail on Mount Hood was established in 1885, beginning at David Rose Cooper’s tent camp hotel, located near the present-day Cloud Cap Inn. The route followed the south Eliot Moraine to his namesake Cooper Spur. Soon thereafter, the Langille family would lead hikes and climbs on this route from the new Cloud Cap Inn, completed in 1889.

The Langilles also established a route from Cloud Cap to Elk Cove for their visitors, completing another section of what would someday become the Timberline Trail.

Hikers climbing toward Cooper Spur along one of the original sections of the Timberline Trail.

The route remains a popular trail, today, though it has never been formally adopted or maintained by the Forest Service. The first leg of this trail briefly functioned as a segment of the Timberline Trail, thanks to a temporary re-routing in the mid-2000s (more about that, later).

The significance of the original Cooper Spur trail is that it was built entirely for recreational purposes, the first such route on the mountain.

Camp Blossom was built some fifty years before Timberline Lodge was opened in 1938, but established the same network of trails that have since served the lodge.

Other hiking routes soon followed on the south side of the mountain, connecting the former Camp Blossom to nearby Paradise Park and the White River canyon. Camp Blossom was built by a “Judge Blossom” in 1888 to cater to tourists. The camp was at the end of a new wagon road from Government Camp, and located near present-day Timberline Lodge. It was eventually replaced by the Timberline Cabin (1916), and later, Timberline Lodge (1938).

The informal network of alpine trails radiating from Camp Blossom in the late 1800s still forms the framework of trails we use today. This is especially true for the nearly 7 miles of trail from White River to Paradise Park, which largely defined the Timberline Trail alignment in this section.

By the 1920s, the Langille family had developed trails from their Cloud Cap Inn to nearby Elk Cove (1924 USGS map).

By the 1920s, the Mazamas and other local outdoor clubs were pushing for more recreation facilities around the mountain, and public interest in a round-the-mountain trail was growing.

By this time, new Forest Service trails had been built on the north side of the mountain from the Clear Branch valley to Elk Cove and along Vista Ridge to WyEast Basin. These trails were connected at timberline (with a spur to Dollar Lake), creating another segment of what was to become the Timberline Trail. Combined with the route from Cloud Cap to Elk Cove, nearly 8 miles of the future Timberline Trail had been built on the north side of the mountain by the 1920s.

By the 1920s, the Vista Ridge and Elk Cove trails were established, extending the emerging Timberline Trail from Cloud Cap to Eden Park (1924 USGS map).

The Timberline Trail is Born

The concept of a complete loop around the mountain finally came together in the 1930s, during the depths of the Great Depression, when Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal recovery program, and the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), brought the needed manpower and financial resources to the project.

The CCC completed the new 37.6 mile Timberline Trail in 1934, stitching together the existing north side and south side trails, and covering completely new terrain on the remote west and east sides of the mountain.

The venerable Cooper Spur shelter still stands on the slopes above Cloud Cap, maintained by volunteers.

The Corps built a generous tread for the time in anticipation of heavy recreation use. The new trail was built 4 feet wide in forested areas, 2 feet wide in open terrain, and gently graded for easy hiking.

The trail was marked by square cedar posts placed at rectangular intervals over open country and by blazes in forested areas. Many of the distinctive trail posts survive between Cloud Cap and Gnarl Ridge, mounted in huge cairns.

Shelters were built along the trail by the CCC crews as a place for hikers to camp and rest, and as protection against sudden storms. Most are of the same stone design, with a small fireplace and chimney. They were built with steel rafters instead of wood so that the structures, themselves, would not be used as firewood in the treeless high country, and also to withstand heavy winter snows. Of the six original stone structures, only those at McNeil Point, Cairn Basin and Cooper Spur survive (see large version of map, below).

Map of the completed Timberline Trail and CCC era shelters.

(Click here for a large map)

Three wood structures were also built along lower sections of trail, at Ramona Falls, Bald Mountain and Elk Meadows. Of the three, only the rapidly deteriorating structure at Elk Meadows survives.

The completed trail featured a couple of oddities: the McNeil Point shelter had been constructed on a high bluff above the Muddy Fork that was eventually left off the final trail alignment, due to concerns about maintaining the trail at this elevation. Today, thousands of hikers nevertheless use the partially completed trail each year to reach the historic shelter and spectacular viewpoint.

Curiously, the shelter at Elk Meadows was also built off the main loop, perhaps because at the time, the meadows were seen as much a place to graze packhorses as for their scenic value. Like McNeil Point, this “forgotten” shelter continues to be a very popular stop for hikers, today.

This 1921 map shows the Oregon Skyline Trail terminating at Mount Hood, before construction of the Timberline Trail. Note the early Bull Run Reserve encompassing the entire west side of the mountain.

By the late 1930s, much of the new Timberline Trail had also been designated as an extension of the Oregon Skyline Trail — according to maps from the time (above), the Skyline had previously terminated on the slopes of Mount Hood, above Government Camp.

The expanded Skyline Trail arrived at the Timberline Trail from the south, near Timberline Lodge, turned east and traced the new Timberline Trail counter-clockwise around the mountain before descending to Lolo Pass, then headed north to Lost Lake and the Columbia Gorge.

1970s Trail Renaissance

A third major era of trail construction on the mountain came in the 1960s and 1970s, when several major re-routes of the Timberline Trail were built.

By the early 1960s, the Oregon Skyline Trail had been relocated to the west side of the mountain, following the Timberline Trail from Timberline Lodge north to the Bald Mountain Shelter, then on to Lolo Pass.

By the time the Pacific Crest Trail was established in the 1968 National Trails Act, absorbing the old Skyline Trail, a new route across the Muddy Fork canyon was in the works for the Timberline Trail.

The Cairn Basin stone shelter is the best-preserved of the CCC-era structures, thanks to more protection from the elements than most of the original buildings.

By the early 1970s, this new section rounded Yocum Ridge from Ramona Falls, crossed both branches of the Muddy Fork, then ascended to the steep meadows of Bald Mountain, one of the most popular Timberline Trail destinations today.

The new Muddy Fork segment is now part of the Timberline Trail loop, with the Pacific Crest Trail following the old Timberline Trail/Oregon Skyline Trail alignment. Though less scenic, the old route is more direct and reliable for through hikers and horses.

In contrast, the scenic new route for the Timberline Trail has been a challenge for the Forest Service to keep open, with the Muddy Fork regularly changing channels, and avalanche chutes on the valley walls taking out sections of trail, as well.

Going, going… this view from the slowly collapsing Elk Meadows shelter will soon be a memory. This is the only remaining wood shelter of three that were built by the CCC.

In the 1970s, a section of trail descending the east wall of Zigzag Canyon was also relocated, presumably as part of meeting Pacific Crest Trail design standards. While the old route traversed open, loose slopes of sand and boulders, the new trail ducks below the tree line, descending through forest in gentle switchbacks to the Zigzag River crossing of today.

At Paradise Park, a “low route” was built below the main meadow complex, and the headwater cliffs of Rushing Water Creek. Like the Zigzag Canyon reroute, the Paradise Park bypass was presumably built to PCT standards, which among other requirements, are intended to accommodate horses.

The north side of the mountain also saw major changes in the early 1970s. The original Timberline Trail had descended from Cathedral Ridge to Eden Park, before climbing around Vista Ridge and up to WyEast Basin. The new route skips Eden Park, traveling through Cairn Basin, instead, and climbing high over the crest of Vista Ridge before dropping to WyEast Basin.

Beautiful meadow views line the “new” Vista Ridge trail section completed in the early 1970s.

Finally, a section of trail near Dollar Lake was moved upslope, shortening the hike to the lake by a few hundred yards, and creating the sweeping views to the north that hikers now enjoy from open talus slopes east of Dollar Lake. Just beyond Dollar Lake junction, the descent into Elk Cove was also rebuilt, with today’s long, single switchback replacing a total of six on the old trail which descended more sharply into the cove.

In each case, the new trail segments from the early 1970s are notable for their well-graded design and longer, gentler switchbacks. While the main intent of the trail designers was an improved Timberline Trail, the new segments also created a numerous new routes for day hikers who could follow new and old trail segments to form hiking loops. These loops are among the most popular hikes on the mountain today.

The Future?

The retreat of Mount Hood’s glaciers in recent years has destabilized the outwash canyons, and in the past two decades, massive debris flows have buried highways and scoured out streambeds. One of the oldest segments of the Timberline Trail, near Cloud Cap, has been disrupted by washouts for nearly a decade, and is now completely closed, thanks to a huge washout on the Eliot Branch in 2007.

Sign from the first re-route, posted in 2001. Now the trail is completely closed at the Eliot Branch.

The Forest Service has since struggled to find funding to reconnect the trail at the Eliot Branch. The first washout moved the stream crossing uphill, taking advantage of the original Cooper Spur path established in the 1880s, then crossing to a parallel climbers path on the north moraine of the Eliot Glacier.

This temporary crossing lasted a for a few years in the early 2000s before the massive washout in 2007 permanently erased this section of trail. This portion of the loop as since been completely closed, though hundreds of hikers each summer continue to cross this extremely unstable, very dangerous terrain.

Site of the Eliot Branch washout and closure -- and the risky route hikers are taking, anyway.

The growing volatility of the glacial streams will ultimately claim other sections of trail, creating an ongoing challenge for the Forest Service to keep the Timberline Trail open each summer.

If repairing the washouts along the trail were as costly as those along the nearby Mount Hood Loop Highway, then there might be some question of whether it makes sense to keep the trail open. After all, millions of dollars are being spent this year to rebuild the Mount Hood Highway bridge over White River, yet again, in an area that has had repeated washouts.

Hikers crossing the Eliot Branch before the 2007 washout.

By comparison, a wilderness trail is exceptionally cheap to build, and much less constrained by topographical or environmental concerns than a road. It really just comes down to money and priorities, and the Forest Service simply doesn’t have the funding to keep pace with the growing needs of the Timberline Trail. With even a modest increase in funding, the trail can be rebuilt and adapted to periodic washouts, or other natural disturbances.

Speaking Up

One way to have an impact on the funding situation for the Timberline Trail is to weigh in with your Congressman and Senators. While the current political climate says that earmarks are dead, history tells us otherwise: ask for an earmark for the Timberline Trail. After all, the trail is historic and an international draw that brings tourists from around the world to help boost local economies.

If you’re not an earmark fan, then you can argue for an across-the-board funding boost for forest trails as a job-producing priority in the federal budget. A ten-fold increase over current levels would be lost in rounding areas in the context of the massive federal budget.

Yet another angle are the health benefits that trails provide, particularly given the federal government’s newly expanded interest in public health. This is emerging as the best reason to begin investing in trails, once again.

Hikers negotiating the Muddy Fork crossing after the 2002 debris flow swept through the canyon.

Of particular interest is the fact that Oregon Congressmen Earl Blumenauer and Greg Walden actually hiked the loop, just before the 2007 Eliot Branch washout. One is a Democrat, the other Republican, so you can cover your bipartisan bases with an e-mail both! They share the mountain, with the congressional district boundary running right down the middle, so both have an interest in the Timberline Trail.

Finally, Oregon Senator Ron Wyden championed expanded wilderness for the Mount Hood area for years, and President Obama finally signed the bill into law earlier this year. So, another angle is to argue for the needed funding to support trail maintenance in these new wilderness areas, especially since they will require more costly, manual maintenance now.

It really makes a difference to weigh in, plus it feels good to advocate for trails with your Congressional delegation. Here’s a handy resource page for contacting these representatives, and the rest of the Oregon delegation:

Here’s how to send an e-mail to Congress

Thanks in advance for making your voice heard!