Reading the Oregonian this morning, I came across a bit of sad news: John Steiner, a master craftsmen who, along with his father, Henry, built some of the most unique mountain cabins up near Mount Hood, passed away on Friday. He was 99.

I never got to meet him, but I’ve talked to some people who have. And I’ve also been lucky enough to spend a little time in one of his unique and charming Mount Hood cabins. In honor of such a one-of-a-kind legacy, here’s a post I wrote up last year about a memorable weekend in a most memorable Steiner Cabin.

STEINERS
Father’s Day weekend this year was a rainy and gray one. The water came in a nearly unending stream and the wooly clouds parked overhead and didn’t budge.

I’d had a book signing at Wy’East Book Shoppe & Art Gallery in Welches that Friday night — the last sign of sunshine for a few days — but rather than head back home afterwards, we decided to make a weekend out of it.

We did so in a Steiner cabin up in Government Camp, thanks to some very generous friends who were lucky enough to come across one of these unique little getaways a few years ago.

Built over two decades by a German craftsman named Henry Steiner beginning in the late 1920s, Steiner cabins stand apart from other alpine hideaways on Mount Hood for their singular accents and ingenious incorporation of natural elements. Steiner and later, his son, John, built the cabins by hand — without power tools — and used nearby materials as much as possible: glacial stones, river rocks, Douglas firs and other on-site timbers they hewed themselves. (Henry Steiner also hand-hewed the towering fir columns at Timberline Lodge over just two weeks in the late 1930s.)

Mount Hood and the Mount Hood National Forest are home to an absolute trove of hydrological resources: creeks, streams, rivers, hidden tarns, ponds, and, of course, lakes. Add up all the surface water across the entire national forest, and you get something close to 71,000 acres — about half the size of Lake Tahoe. There’s so much important and pristine water around Mount Hood that I wrote a whole chapter about it in my book.

Bull Run Lake

With the spring sun shining and hints of the coming season in the air, today seems an ideal day to share Portland State University’s new Atlas of Oregon Lakes. The online index, which I read about this morning on Terry Richard’s blog at The Oregonian, contains 215 lakes all over Oregon. The majority of the entries include maps, detailed descriptions, interesting stories and lore, photos, and other great information for either planning a trip or just broadening knowledge.

It’s not comprehensive by any means, but it is fairly extensive and includes some of the gems around Mount Hood: Lost Lake, Bull Run Lake, Trillium Lake, and many others. Another great resource for exploring not only the mountain, but the national forest and the entire state.

On the way to Mount Hood from Portland, there’s a little gas station and cafe just southeast of Sandy on the right side of Highway 26. I’ve passed it countless times on the way to the mountain and back over the past 15 years, but never stopped there. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’ve just never needed gas or a quick bite to eat right then and there. (And to be quite honest, whenever we’re coming back from a hard day on the mountain, a day on which we’ve earned it, we’re stopping for Mexican at El Buro Loco in Welches or burgers and beers at Calamity Jane’s in Sandy)

But I’ve almost always been intrigued by the name of this little roadside stop: Shorty’s Corner.

We got one step closer to stopping at Shorty’s Corner this past weekend. Not because we headed up to Mount Hood, but instead because we were toasting the times at Wurstfest,  an annual mini Oktoberfest held in tiny Mt. Angel every February.

After a few hours of music, dancing, and a couple nice pilsners from Silverton’s 7 Brides, we walked up the road for a fantastic dinner at the Mt. Angel Sausage Company.  Just as we were ordering up, in came three of the members of the Greg Meier Bavarian Quartet, who’d just finished up a great set over at the fest. But they weren’t done playing yet. And because we were one of the only tables in the place at the time, we ended up getting pretty much a private, table side concert from a talented and spirited group of authentic musicians.

The tie to Shorty’s Corner came as we traded words with Meier, the accordion player and leader of the group. Over a round of “Ein Prosit” and a German-infused medley of Disney tunes, I told Meier about my book and he told us about Shorty’s Corner. His parents have owned it for 33 years.

“Stop by and say hi next time you’re up there,” he said.

Now, we definitely will.