Mount Hood view — or not
A few weeks ago, back before these hot and sunny days, back in mid July, when morning mist and clouds hung around far too long and blocked true summer’s appearance, my friend, Wyatt, and I headed east in search of some mountain sunshine. And we found it. Not, however, on Mount Hood.
Instead, we drove out of a Portland drizzle, Hood socked in behind a curtain of gray, and made our way over and up to the east side of Mount St. Helens. Up there, at Ape Canyon and all the way up to the Plains of Abraham — 13 miles roundtrip for us — we caught plenty of blue sky, sunshine, and giant if only partly cloudy views of the mountain.
The next weekend, it was still gray in town and there was April-like rain in the air. Still, we headed out, for if you only ventured out on clear, bluebird days, you’d surely be missing too much. This time, we headed to Hood and a standby favorite: Zigzag Mountain via Burnt Lake.
The clouds lifted once for a nice far-off view of the mountain about halfway up and then just again — just — before we topped out. (Look hard. It’s there.)
We didn’t get much else in terms of mountain views that day, but I’m not sure we really needed much more. Sometimes just being out and about, rambling in the hills, is more than enough.
Peek into the Mountain — reprise
It’s Pickathon time again, and what better way to get in the mindset for this weekend’s festival than to look back to a bit of Pickathon past. From a 2011 post:
The first time I really ever heard The Heartless Bastards, an incredible band formed in Cincinnati, Ohio, in 2003, was at Pickathon 2010. And the first song I ever heard of theirs is one called, simply, The Mountain.
The band, particularly lead singer Erika Wennerstrom, hit me hard, sharing an energy I’d not felt about any band in quite some time. And the song came at just the right time. I’d been finishing up On Mount Hood and culling my notes and research for some quotes to head up each chapter. The opening lines from The Mountain seemed to convey just what I had in mind for the introduction of the book.
Oh you feel and you taste it
And you want to go higher, so what do you do
And so you peek into the mountain
Where your desire goes
I got to write about the Heartless Bastards and The Mountain a little earlier this spring, as part of Tim LaBarge’s Pickathonography book, which looks at five years of the music festival from 2006 through 2010. The piece went along with some fantastic photos of the band that really captured the musical highlights of the entire weekend for me.
Take a peek. (And look forward to their sets at Pickathon 2012 . . .)
A unexpected look at Mount Hood
I’m not much of an auto racing fan, but every few years or so, Amy needs a Portland International Raceway fix. So I indulge her, and now my daughter and my son, too.
We headed out there last weekend for the annual Rose Cup races, and rather than sit in our usual spot on a particularly fast corner coming into the straightaway, we asked one of the regulars where he liked to take in the action. He pointed us way down the track to a windy section called the chicane. From there, the vantage point of the races is much, much better. It also provides an unexpected view of Mount Hood way off in the distance.
And while that view didn’t completely convert me into a fan, it did help make for a fun — and scenic — day.
John Muir on Mount Hood
Just a simple post tonight, an excerpt from Steep Trails, a collection of three decades worth of the famed naturalist John Muir’s writings. This is a passage about one of his most memorable sightings of Mount Hood from Portland, “one calm evening in July”
Absorbed in the happy scene, given up to dreamy, random observation of what lay immediately before me, I was not conscious of anything occurring on the outer rim of the landscape. Forest, mountain, and sky were forgotten, when my companion suddenly directed my attention to the eastward, shouting, “Oh, look! look!” in so loud and excited a tone of voice that passers-by, saunterers like ourselves, were startled and looked over the bridge as if expecting to see some boat upset. Looking across the forest, over which the mellow light of the sunset was streaming, I soon discovered the source of my friend’s excitement. There stood Mount Hood in all the glory of the alpenglow, looming immensely high, beaming with intelligence, and so impressive that one was overawed as if suddenly brought before some superior being newly arrived from the sky.
The atmosphere was somewhat hazy, but the mountain seemed neither near nor far. Its glaciers flashed in the divine light. The rugged, storm-worn ridges between them and the snowfields of the summit, these perhaps might have been traced as far as they were in sight, and the blending zones of color about the base. But so profound was the general impression, partial analysis did not come into play. The whole mountain appeared as one glorious manifestation of divine power, enthusiastic and benevolent, glowing like a countenance with ineffable repose and beauty, before which we could only gaze in devout and lowly admiration.
Mount Hood Railroad
The boy’s a big fan of trains, as so many little boys are. And while we haven’t yet made the trip on the Mount Hood Railroad — maybe next Christmas for the Polar Express — we did get our fill of big engines out near the mountain this past weekend while camping at Memaloose State Park.
Threaded in between I-84 and the railroad tracks along the south side of the Columbia River a few miles east of Hood River, Memaloose is actually a fairly scenic spot, assuming you get one of the campsites with a commanding river view. But even if you do get a money spot, there’s really no escaping the noise — the constant din of highway traffic to the south, the regular, repeated rumble and roar of trains just one blackberry thicket away. What’s more, there’s another set of train tracks just across the river in Washington, which adds even more railroad action throughout any stay at Memaloose. Some people might find it a little too noisy.
Others, not so much.
On Mount Hood — in Eugene
Since the book published almost a year ago, I’ve taken On Mount Hood and my slideshow all over the Portland metro region. I’ve also been out to Hood River and Welches near the mountain, McMinnville, and even Seaside out on the coast.
In just a few weeks, it’ll be down in Eugene at the Eugene Public Library. The free event kicks off at 6 p.m., Thursday, June 21, at the downtown library. Looking very forward to it. Here’s their poster for the event. Hope to see you there.
On MOUNT HOOD 